Performance Poems - Poems about Performance

Lisa and I played a round of frisbee-disc golf today—let’s reminisce. I love the ‘live performance’ of sports, how you must physicalise discipline. You get this instant feedback that you have to own and lean hard into. The being present to adjust, the internalised mechanisms of performance—the ‘liveness’—is the most exciting thing about sports. And, of course, the...

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2025.04.08 Recently, I was fortunate enough to receive Special treatments, at the RMIT building 51, Where not only I have had so much fun. But also having the bodily remedial therapy done. I chatted and laughed with these young students. What they did was part of their courses' curriculum. They came up with a win-win situation, Which they would provide massages...

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in our french big top i take the shoulder lenth of the tight rope bar and our cubism begins theses are frames in sound film slides sound is on the beam when we come back for the slip of the tongue...

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When it came to the art of rappin', this kid knew how to make it happen. The scenes of a dark apocalypse that gushed forth from his stormy lips had all souls standing around clappin'....

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Life is lived as one big performance, The stage is set, with sights before us. The curtain rises. It's time to shine, Oh, what a time to be alive! You make the most of a life that's given, A life that's lived full of ambition. We live for today and not for tomorrow, Be content in your life for others to follow. Live...

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The Great Hall of the People. After the performance she appears above us, stepping out from a Chinese painting of heaven. She descends into the foyer, camera’s whir. Once more we are stunned by the power of beauty to command our devotion. This is her moment, surely no moment could out-match this one. Later, a reading, tea leaves in a small cup, dragons circle the rim. A vision. There are rumors, suspicions, political purges, Her...

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Today I think of your Contributions closing the theater’s door Putting together toasted bread Ready for a child to be fed Youngster wearing grape jelly Face down to the belly Laughing saying ‘this is great’ Not showing any hate But Peanut Butter, it is you Who makes the mid-day matinee ever so cool Thank you for...

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Ah romance — such an elevated form of make-believe, with promises and roses that are rarely kept. Two players, both knowing, smiles just as wily, each coming closer, each stinging a lie. They say love’s a puzzle, some misty dance, but more likely it feels like an enterprise, a turn – a wink and a promise neither has any right to...

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Muniz motoring down the track object of affection, heating up performance wheels. Not predicated on subjective analysis, but merely his speed and placement in the race. No acting required, just talent, practice, showing up. Will he be a superhero one day, admired by all ages? For now, his stage is kicking up dirt, and oh yes, he has an audience. Will he be Malcolm in the...

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Singer appreciate singer Who sing their songs One time, in the mall An artist just walk on the lobby And suddenly hears her song being sung By an ordinary artist who performs To the audience for an intermission Suddenly, the original artist came At the back and whisper that says "That's my song", then the singer said You are Morissette, she said yes "Can you...

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Before we play, let's preamble with the entree, Enjoy the soft shoe shuffle, before the souffle. Dancing tipsy, on tippy-toes, to belay and delay the mainstay. It's a wily whisper of words, a teaser to savor in foreplay. To amble and gamble, to begin with the starters on show, Unscrambles the egg, but won’t scramble the glow. For it's only a...

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Awesome sunset, silence talks, only the birds' soundtrack on. A huge red sun sinks into the sea, the horizon is the artist painting different pictures to admire. What a magnificent show our nature offers to our eyes!. The dream of living is real while we can contemplate what it touches our depths. When nothing moves our interior, we...

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It wasn’t the life she wanted. This life drained the light from her eyes, Turning them to deep gray circles, Her voice lost its tone, She lost herself. Mothering was not a part of the plan. She was supposed to get out. Out of the town, Out of the house, Out of the state, Go to school, Go to college, Go to work. Grab the job of her...

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The morning waited for me to take my seat on the foreshore bench to begin its play, perform the piece it had scripted just for me. Opening with a prelude of waves lifting until gravity collapsed their curling height and gulped down their weight, and, at stage right, rocks bursting big watery bags of ocean into exploding walls of foam. Then there...

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Panic or stage fright, oh my, A crowd awaits, let me sit, oh why? Better standing, oh the nerves, Good morning? No, good afternoon it serves. Oh dear, I don't even know what I'm saying, How am I feeling? I can't stop swaying. Help me escape this overwhelming feeling, Or I might just faint, my head is reeling. Am I talking too fast?...

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