One Hand Clapping

Curtain
inspired by comments in
This Sublime Dance
 
Two weeks prior is the hell
a week prior to hell-- only
in theatre, where hell is not
a place or stage, but Time:
Moments.  Frozen only in
limelight, gone, but haloed
in recollection, a tear-filtered
vision at the call of the curtain.

Afterglow-- these are places
of the heart and not time at all.
Connected forever, like blood
to veins, blue on the return trip,
the dramatic re-entrance-- you,
actor, are another who hears
someone else's music, voices
someone else's song, rehearses
someone else's dance, earns
someone else's applause.

You, actor, know that life
is not perfectly placed steps
on cue, but magical accident
in the moment of send-up, blank,
the adrenalin of forgotten lines,
the sweat that forms on palms.
 
You, actor, sustain the lyrical
nature of this world.  You know
more than the writer or painter,
more than the pianist or dancer,
because you have played.
You have become child. Again.

You live in the faint fumes of gas-
light, greasepaint, velour upholstery.
You actually wear a toga, chanting
to the muses over Athens, daily
echoes of Thespes, slaying No
dragons, still dancing with them.

You live, in limelight, someone
else's life, prayer, philosophy, and
crisis.  You, more than most, feel.

Sam E. Jay
07/23/04

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• #9 Comment from babymae1966 
  7/31/04 10:11 AM | Permalink

  May I just say....amazing! You have a gift my dear Mumsy...true feelings put into words & images!
• #8 Comment from floralilia 
  7/27/04 1:30 PM | Permalink

  aah - wonderful mumsy!
• #7 Comment from wildflower121764 
  7/26/04 8:30 PM | Permalink

  This one really gave me goosebumps! Wow, wow, and more wow! I'm going to show this to my daughter. She's considering studying theater in college. Her dad was a great actor at one time...missed his calling I think and went into the health field. I've acted only a little. I'd rather sit back and watch. ;) (or direct...lol)
• #6 Comment from lamove04 
  7/24/04 6:03 PM | Permalink

  very lovely.  Have known the feelings, but not nearly enough!  How many journals and names do you have, btw?  (Probably as many as me!)  --Albert
• #5 Comment from ckays1967 
  7/24/04 1:03 AM | Permalink

  I read this earlier after our chat and then twice more.  I went and read Old Dog's poem from today and then back to this one.
  
  The last line resonate with truth and pain.  Acting can rob us of ourselves and grant us more than we loose.  To die a thousand deaths and still live to bow....to scream for Stella.
  
  I loose myself in this one lady.  Completely.
  
  
  And that is a good thing.