This is a sample of my poems from my second poetry collection called Having Fun At The Fringe: An Eclectic Collection.
A Sassy Street Performer
She's got a lot of lip--
But she runs a tight ship.
But hey, she's hip--
And she takes you on quite a trip.
The Piano Player
He had red hair--
And played the piano with such flair.
He had so much to bare;
So much to spare.
All his care was in his music.
He sang about death,
Destruction, despair, homelessness--
And the L.A. riots.
He wouldn't deny us the truth.
He wasn't uncouth.
He was kind--being creative with his mind.
His eyes weren't telling any lies; but reflecting a compassionate view.
He taught me about the marriage between mind, music, and message.
The piano player will not be forgotten.
So as I gave him some change,
His soul through the piano keys touched mine.
I know that creativity is essential--and it's everywhere.
It feeds me--it's my lifeline.
I also learnt that music is another medium--
Through which thoughts travel.
The Magician
What a fool.
His humour was unkind;
And his manner was so uncool.
Speaking Shakespeare
That's what I wanted to hear--
Some Shakespeare.
He pretended to be MacBeth--
And to fight to the death.
A volunteer acted as MacDuff:
Strutting his stuff.
I laughed; others did too--
There were no hisses. There were no boos.
He juggled; he joked.
What a funny bloke!
Street Performers
They're neat people--
With so much talent to spare.
You wouldn't dare take them on.
Street Performers.
What an amazing troupe!
What a gregarious group--
Who make people laugh without fail.
Street Performers.
They're artists.
They're magicians.
They're juggling tacticians:
Who are good at their craft.
Some are daft.
Others are downright silly.
Believe me when I say,
There is so much by the way of laughter.
That's what the world needs.
That's why the world bleeds:
It needs more laughter and goodwill.
Not the chill created by politicians.
The Flaming Idiots
What a charade!
What a hip parade!
Three guys doing their thing:
Performing a show with a fling.
Gyro, Pyro, and what's his name?
I am not to blame for forgetting his name.
Their claim-to-fame was putting the rest of us to shame,
By juggling, jumping, and jolting us with their humour.
Their act was never a blur in my mind.
And I'm not trying to be kind.
What a find,
What a new kind of show.
It did blow me away,
I must say.
The Fringe
All the shows--
All the experiences from which you could grow.
It could blow your mind.
So much to do,
So many things to try that are new.
The Fringe is fantastically fun, amazingly artsy,
And creatively cool.
These poems are inspired by a festival called "The Fringe" which takes place in Alberta during the summer. It consists of plays, street performers and activities for the kids to do as well.
Poetry by Alison Clarke
Read 467 times
Written on 2006-08-19 at 10:15
Tags Performers Festival Alberta
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Some Poems From Having Fun At The Fringe: An Eclectic Collection
A Sassy Street Performer
She's got a lot of lip--
But she runs a tight ship.
But hey, she's hip--
And she takes you on quite a trip.
The Piano Player
He had red hair--
And played the piano with such flair.
He had so much to bare;
So much to spare.
All his care was in his music.
He sang about death,
Destruction, despair, homelessness--
And the L.A. riots.
He wouldn't deny us the truth.
He wasn't uncouth.
He was kind--being creative with his mind.
His eyes weren't telling any lies; but reflecting a compassionate view.
He taught me about the marriage between mind, music, and message.
The piano player will not be forgotten.
So as I gave him some change,
His soul through the piano keys touched mine.
I know that creativity is essential--and it's everywhere.
It feeds me--it's my lifeline.
I also learnt that music is another medium--
Through which thoughts travel.
The Magician
What a fool.
His humour was unkind;
And his manner was so uncool.
Speaking Shakespeare
That's what I wanted to hear--
Some Shakespeare.
He pretended to be MacBeth--
And to fight to the death.
A volunteer acted as MacDuff:
Strutting his stuff.
I laughed; others did too--
There were no hisses. There were no boos.
He juggled; he joked.
What a funny bloke!
Street Performers
They're neat people--
With so much talent to spare.
You wouldn't dare take them on.
Street Performers.
What an amazing troupe!
What a gregarious group--
Who make people laugh without fail.
Street Performers.
They're artists.
They're magicians.
They're juggling tacticians:
Who are good at their craft.
Some are daft.
Others are downright silly.
Believe me when I say,
There is so much by the way of laughter.
That's what the world needs.
That's why the world bleeds:
It needs more laughter and goodwill.
Not the chill created by politicians.
The Flaming Idiots
What a charade!
What a hip parade!
Three guys doing their thing:
Performing a show with a fling.
Gyro, Pyro, and what's his name?
I am not to blame for forgetting his name.
Their claim-to-fame was putting the rest of us to shame,
By juggling, jumping, and jolting us with their humour.
Their act was never a blur in my mind.
And I'm not trying to be kind.
What a find,
What a new kind of show.
It did blow me away,
I must say.
The Fringe
All the shows--
All the experiences from which you could grow.
It could blow your mind.
So much to do,
So many things to try that are new.
The Fringe is fantastically fun, amazingly artsy,
And creatively cool.
These poems are inspired by a festival called "The Fringe" which takes place in Alberta during the summer. It consists of plays, street performers and activities for the kids to do as well.
Poetry by Alison Clarke
Read 467 times
Written on 2006-08-19 at 10:15
Tags Performers Festival Alberta
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Rob Graber |
