Ah, baring our souls, Freddie. Well, it was said to me today that people are pretty used to me baring my soul on this forum, and it's probably because I'm no good at bullshi**ing. So all my friends are telling me fibs . . . I'm a really bad actor after all!

Not such a crazy idea though. 

Per Ardua Ad Astra

Remember that posting work on a site does not abrogate your copyright. The work still remains your property regardless unless you specifically place the work in public domain.

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

On being fifty

In my head I’m always nineteen

When a pretty young girl passes and smiles

I draw myself up suck in my gut and smile back

Relaxing back to my real self when she’s gone

I watch the marathon start and know if I wasn’t so busy I’d be there

Running the course in four hours and raising money for God knows who

Maybe next year.

Then I stand up and my knees are locked from sitting too long

Or I wake from a dream and trip over the cat while going to the loo at 2am. Again!

It’s not all bad though turning fifty.

I’ve got nothing left to prove.

No more posturing on the football field or the cricket nets.

Or bellying up to the bar in silly drinking sessions

Behaving like randy rams in head butting competitions

My life is gentler now and more relaxed.

But in my head I’m always nineteen.

©2003 A.W.Moore

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

RESERVE

Wilderness

Stark

Heat haze pall above a sandy track

Cut knees, bruised shins, another successful day

Bushy reserve hardly bigger than a row of backyards

Paradise for a plummeting youth

(C) 2008 Michael Lamont

freddie
the rocking jedi badger (temporarily gone to the dark side)

Observation ........

Cat

Mat

Rat

Fat

Shat

Drat

Cat

The Cat sat on the mat and then ate a rat and felt so bloody fat, he then had a shat - drat said the cat.

(C) 2009 Lawson Productions

Cat Rat Productions

The light switches on. Silence.
He checks the time.
Pause.
He waits. Silence.
Pause. He steps. Pause.
He checks the time.
Silence.
He speaks.
Gone. It all ends with
A full stop.
The light switches off. Silence.

(R.I.P. Harold Pinter 1930 - 2008)
(c)2008 Garreth Bradshaw

Ideas

Every time I have a new idea

I worry that it’s the last.

Is this the end of my voice

The last word I will speak.

Committing it to paper

Is such a final act

Defining and constricting.

Does the thought cease to live

When it’s shackled in chains of ink and paper

Or locked in twists of electrical thought

On computer hard drive or floppy disk

And then I look from my window

Or walk down the road

Or even wake from dreaming sleep

And find another thought

Peeking shyly from behind my worries and concerns

And I once again commit to paper

It may not be very good but it’s all mine.

©A.W.Moore 2005

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

Entrance

This is my moment.

I stand, transfixed.

Focus, focus on the Exit sign.

Breathe.

Remember, remember the line.

But make it sound original.

Just like in rehearsal.

The lights burn, blinding.

Forget the wig, how it itches.

Makeup, makeup is good.

Its chameleon cloak gives me strength.

I speak, a laugh in response.

Good.

Forward, forward to the end.

Never, never again.

Until tomorrow night.

There was a young actor named Lee

Who had his first ad on TV

Short films shown in May

Then the lead in a play

If only they weren’t all for free !  (Bdum tish!)

Lee Sheppard

(aka Secret Agent 86 of CONTROL)

And I like the limerick as well.

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

The bubbles start
Churning around,
Pressure the Heart,
The spongy ground.

Where's my jacket?
Where is my shoe?
Put back I'll bet.
I need the loo.

Now dressed with stress,
Head full of words,
I must confess,
I'm with the birds.

5 minute call,
We hide backstage,
Back against wall,
We wait an age.

The house is in,
The lights go down.
Mind in a spin,
Hold back my frown.

Lost in the Wing,
It's hard to see.
From shadows we spring,
And I'm not me.

© Jeff Watkins June 2009

Absit invidia (and DFT )

Jeff Watkins
SN Profile
"ƃuıʇsǝɹǝʇuı ǝɟıן ƃuıʞɐɯ"

1.Questions

What is art?
A Mirror?
No.
What is life?
Art?
In the end,
What are you?
Art. Life. A life. Alive.
In the end?
Only in the moment of a breath.

2. A Good End.

I'm asking for a silent end,
no trumpets of the lived life.

Do not sing for me
if there must be a song,
let it be sung by the birds,
particularly the blackbird
he has always been near.

Do not cry and moan over me
I have heard it too many times,
if there must be a lament
let the wolves howl for me
they have always called me home.

Do not pray for me,
if there must be prayers
listen to the wind
the voice of the trees,
my voice will be heard there.

Cut no loud coloured flowers for me,
if there must be decoration
look to the moon for it,
I have always danced in
her silver light.

I am asking for a silent end,
the world is loud enough.

3.A witticism not a cynicism

Sir, I do make my venture,
That while she doth gloat upon
Such golden contentment
She is like to find in a week
That the gold she once so cherished
Is but made of brass.
Mark you then, sir,
How her golden countenance,
Shall turn again to the green hue
of that fickle phantom, envy.
So say I and so say this
for this is the countenance
of all the women that to this date
My circled orbs from their vantage
Spied and are belike to the measure
That I have but so recently played for your pleasure

4.On Fame

And the glittering idols
Shine from our screens
As we sit unburdened
By thoughts or talk.
Who's fucked who?
He died? But how and when?
An escapist paradise,
A drug like any drug,
To rot our minds and hearts.
But then play on
You noble jesters
And freaks of merit
Play on you mental whores
For I need no feeling other than this
No feeling to tear my heart in twain
No feeling to comfort cries in the dark
For you are all to make my bridal bed
On whose white satin I will leave my stain.
For I embrace what I am
A pusher of drugs to ease your pain.

Cities

I am lost, utterly, completely,
The streets I once walked with such
Unassuming confidence, now grow long;
The buildings loom like childish nightmares
Preparing some cunning act of violence.

I once had a capacity for loving.
Like an awestruck dog, I'd smile at women.
I miss that smile, I miss that awe;
They are lost in my nightmare city.

The rain rips down through my soul
And another little piece flows away
And is lost to the drains with a little sigh
That pushes past teeth that are black and rotten.

Here is not the end: When I am finished scrawling,
I will still be lost
And here is not the end
And here is not the end
Here is not the end.

Children

I still remember vividly holding my children for the first time.

Feeling the awe that came with knowing they were mine.

Looking at this new life and loving it so much.

The beauty of the porcelain skin and the fine tracery, like tattoos, of the veins

Knowing that it meant that I would continue after I was gone.

Now I am honoured with grandchildren

And holding them I feel the same love and wonder

I see the same beauty

I experience the same intimations of immortality

But I also know that I can give them back.

© A.W.Moore 2005

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

Here's one I won an award for in the 2007 ECU Talus Prize (not first prize, obviously).

See if you can guess what 'it' is...

-BIGGER ON THE INSIDE-
->Mysterious Creature
->Tiny Body, Hours to Live
->Bigger on the Inside
->Depending on Price
->Attached to His Brain
->It Screams in His Mind
->Helping Him Relive
->The Art of Others

(Copyright) 2007 Michael Lamont

freddie
the rocking jedi badger (temporarily gone to the dark side)

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

It's been a bit over a day since a new post arrived and I'm enjoying this, particularly reading others contributions. Here goes another one.

Twelve

I remember when I was twelve.
Running all through those long summer days
All skinny arms and legs
Brown and scabbed
It never rained
Was never cloudy

Playing by the creek
Climbing the clay cliffs
Digging caves
Exploring in the long grass
Building hides
Of bracken and twigs

Following the creek to find monsters
Paddling in pools
Chasing tadpoles
Downstream to the orchards
Stealing oranges
From the farmers trees

Never out of energy
Going all day
Running and jumping until bedtime
When my head hit the pillow
And I slept
Dreamless and happy until morn

I’m glad I’m not twelve
Sometimes
But sometimes I miss it
I haven’t the energy
And I don’t sleep as well
But I still have the imagination.

©A.W.Moore 2008

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

I've been reading with interest the discussion regarding gender bias in theatre. I'm now starting to wonder where all the female poets are hiding.

We've had some fabulous contributions so far, but I'm dying to see some feminine perspectives. Come on ladies! It's no fun without you.

freddie
the rocking jedi badger (temporarily gone to the dark side)

Where are all my actors?
I swear I got the schedule right!
I told them that I could simply factor
In when they couldn't be in my sight.
Where's my bloody phone?
I told them I need an S.M.
It's like drawing blood from a stone-
No I don't want to send an SM
Fucking S with my phone number...
Damn it blast their hides to Hades!
I just want to rehearse this bloody Shakespeare
I should be getting paid in bloody Mercedes'
When next they arrive I will look on them with such a leer
They will want to turn and run and yet they'll stay in fright
These dogs who do omit themselves from our rehearsal night!

(In the town of Geraldton a statue stands looking out to sea, forever awaiting the return of her beloved)

lost in time, buried in blue,
resting by those they sparred,
they have not hurried to tell us what befell.

at the edge of the sea a lady stands,
gazing to the west,
tireless as the horizon ‘pon which she waits.

someone tell the lady, quick,
some clever men have found her!
with side sonar they pinned them,
the partners sleeping where they fell.

tell her the search is over,
she can rest with all our thanks,
for sydney now is found,
and we can ask her what we want.

(C) Michael Lamont 2008

BLOCKED!
How often have I sat,
Pen in hand.
Fingers poised over the keyboard
Gazing at the flickering screen, virginal paper
Playing solitaire or drawing complicated doodles
Unable to face the total lack of ideas
…………...
BLOCKED
…………...
BLOCKED
…………..
Where does inspiration hide on rainy afternoons in winter
The summer’s easy to explain as the words vanish behind images of yellow sand
Of shady seats in parks and chilled chardonnay at cellar door sales.
But why can’t I create in winter
There’s nothing else to do no distractions calling me to laziness.
No pleasant afternoon sun to beckon me to snooze on shady couch beneath fragrant trees.
!!!
There I go again
Thinking of anything but work
I must concentrate, get back to writing
But in the meantime
Here’s a verse.
© A.W.Moore 2005

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

I'd like to write a sonnet but I can't
Be bothered making all the couplets rhyme,
And of the ones I've read, there're none that aren't
Obsessed with love or death, nature or time.
So if I ever tried to write one, I
Would choose a topic that did not conform
To previous examples. I would try
To be informal and, against the norm,
I'd write a sonnet that was tongue in cheek.
But then I'd have to master the confines:
The stanzas, rhythm structure and technique
Of stress and metre, all in fourteen lines.
And still I wouldn't even be halfway;
'Cause then I'd have to find something to say...

Craig Williams, 1988

~<8>-/====\---------

Very clever.

I'm with Freddie though, where are the women?

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

This is a comment to get this back to the top of the list

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

At sixteen, unrequited and moody
I felt all my writing should rhyme
I'd usually try to put chords to it
Tap it out in four four time

Then came the attempted novels
Stories alive in my mind
The concepts where magnetic
The execution far from sublime

I'd give up after the opening pages
The stories, fallow would lie
Everything written in first person
The lack of descriptive writing a crime

For years all I wrote where essays
When I tried to write, or even read I would find
That all I could think of were therapy models
Terms like homoeostasis and paradigm

Then would you believe what happened
I left psychology behind
Got a job working in the theatre
And something strange happened inside

My brain began to work again
Pen to paper my hand would fly
Seems I have a passion for dialogue
Writers block banished with every new line!

Jess Messenger Copyright 2 minutes ago.

Killing time, as I have a terrible case of writers block, and no inspiration cometh...

Well done Jess, I like it.

Come on where are the rest of the women.

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

I wrote this after a very close friend passed away

Goodbye
I have watched over the last year,
as you changed.
infected by the dark invader
that corrupted your body and soul
wasted by the emptiness of illness.
Now it’s time to say goodbye
To cast a clot of earth
and wish you well.
Now I need to greet a world that no longer has you in it
To watch a sunrise without you.
And I must learn not to hate you
For going on without me
And leaving me alone.

©A.W.Moore 2005

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

Just getting back to the top of the list again.

Lets see some more poems.

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

Good fences make good neighbours,
As everybody knows.
They stand between us straight and tall,
Cross backyards in long rows.

They keep us out, they keep you in;
They keep us where we each belong.
There’s nothing breeds good neighbours
Like a fence that’s fine and strong.

They keep out those that are long of nose
Unless they’re standing on their toes.
They help to mark what’s yours, what’s mine.
They bring good neighbours into line.

So, why then is it that we found,
That when our fence was on the ground,
Its pickets flat upon the floor,
That we’d great neighbours right next door?

No matter how oft we’ve heard it said,
We’re coming to our senses;
It’s not the fence that makes the neighbours’ good,
It’s great neighbours make great fences.

(On the occasion of the erection of the new fence between the residences of the Malcolm’s and the Vaughan’s 2006.)

Cheers
Grant

--
Director, actor and administrator of this website

Dylan Thomas's Picnic

The weatherman said that it wouldn't rain,
But by those angry, dark clouds overhead
- it looks as though we'll all get wet again.

It happens every time I entertain;
We could have stayed indoors today; instead
The weatherman said that it wouldn't rain.

There's no point now in opening the champagne;
Pack up the chairs and try to save the bread
- it looks as though we'll all get wet again.

I wish that I had only used my brain
And listened more to what that farmer said.
The weatherman said that it wouldn't rain.

This Sunday picnic's gone right down the drain.
We'd have been better off staying in bed.
- it looks as though we'll all get wet again.

I've got a mind to ring up and complain -
I listened carefully to what he read:
The weatherman said that it wouldn't rain.
- it looks as though we'll all get wet again.

Craig Williams 1994

~<8>-/====\---------

I have to work.

Erk.

(c) Michael Lamont 2009

freddie
the rocking jedi badger (temporarily gone to the dark side)

Just bumping this back to the top

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

Johnathon Livingstone Budgerigar
Who the bloody hell do you think you are
All this philosophy won't get you far
To get on in this world, you've got to be a galah.

Bob Hudson - Newcastle's poet laureate.

www.meltheco.org.au

A lost ship, spinnakers full of wind,
slams full force into the monsterous waves
Of life and there upon some coral reef
digs such a whole in its side that in rushes
Water to douse all of the lights and life
That were once contained in its merry hold.
So is my mind like a floundering galleon
Utterly wrecked upon coral reefs not
Of my making but rather being of my
Misadventured navigation.

A Question of Wisdom

They say age brings wisdom

So they say.

It doesn’t make sense to me.

I don’t buy it.

The older I get the more confused I am.

I simply lack the moral certitude I had as a teenager.

I knew how to save the world

I knew what was right and what was wrong

I saw everything in black and white

Today I have palpitations deciding what to have for lunch.

When I was young the big issues were so obvious.

He was right, he was wrong and I could see it so clearly.

Was the world simpler then or was I?

Is it just that I have become too willing to see both sides?

Oh God have I become a fence sitter?

Someone who just wants a quiet life.

Surely not, I haven’t changed that much have I?

Where has the fiery young liberal gone?

Is he cowering behind a closet conservative?

Oh please can I have the old world back,

I knew what to do then.

Wisdom?

Oh go away, and let me choose my lunch.

¢ 2005 A.W.Moore

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

I have enjoyed reading the contributions to this thread and am posting this to get it back to the top again.I was reminded of a joke I heard many years ago.
Two literary types were arguing the merits of theiir favourite
poets.One who was a fan of Wordsworth argued that his greatness lay in his ability to gain inspiration from anything no matter how trivial."For example", he said, pointing at a very bow legged man in the street,"Wordsworth would write about that man,
I wandered lonely as a cloud
and met a man whose legs were bowed."
The other man who favoured the bard said "Shakespeare could do better.He would write
What Ho what manner of man is this
That holds his balls in parenthesis".

I am reminded of the great Ogden Nash:

"The one l lama he's a priest
the two l llama he's a beast
and i will bet a silk pajama
there isn't any three l lllama"

And I think it was also he who wrote

On the existence of generative organs in the Garden of Eden.

Adam had em.

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

Three hours we sat and waited, quick assistance we required.
"How could it take so long?" I inwardly enquired.
My brother was in status, an epileptic episode quite severe;
That he might even lose his life a very realistic fear.
The waiting room was hot and breathless, a hundred strong or more.
Such was the state of the place I only found room on the floor.
The nurses came, the nurses went, the room got smaller still,
The waiting masses were sore and sick, so pitiful and ill.
Our turn finally came at last, but I had to wait outside;
One visitor for each patient so as to hold back the tide.
And so I sat and waited amongst all the pain and hurt and tears,
And all I heard were St Martin's Bells ringing in my ears.

(C) Michael Lamont 1998

freddie
the rocking jedi badger (temporarily gone to the dark side)

O Muse, give me a pen with which I may
Take one drop of blood from my heart,
The scarlet repository of my deepest secrets.
Let me write all the words of love that are therein
Bound like prisoners awaiting the day of release.
When it is written let me give it to her,
Let me see it light that smile and bring joy and mirth
To the darkest corners of my soul.

Still...

Remain thou poem as but a testement to whom thou art writ,
For never shall she see nor know thee,
For fearing that all the hopes of my heart are
But folly and merely trifles to amuse the unjilted.

Labels

Why do you label me?
Why do you insist that your world view has power over mine?
Is it so that your vision defines me and places me in a box.
I don’t want to live in a box
Particularly not one designed by you.
You use labels to help you avoid thinking
They give you the power to treat people as things.
I’m not a thing, I’m a person.
Does it make you comfortable to be able to live by formulae.
Personally I prefer to see things as they are, not as I want them to be.
It can be unsettling but it’s certainly more exciting.

©A.W.Moore 2005

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

The journey has been long and arduous,
with uncertain paths, unwelcome advice.
Frustration. Stress. Confusion. Murdurous.
Shadows flit and skit just like timid mice.

The end is at hand, another begins.
With new knowledge I go much better armed,
Enlightened. Fresh. With forgiven sins.
For now I know that I shall not be harmed.

My new found strength, it is always MY choice. 

© Aug 2009

Absit invidia (and DFT )

Jeff Watkins
SN Profile
"ƃuıʇsǝɹǝʇuı ǝɟıן ƃuıʞɐɯ"

You have really done it this time Freddie you have gone and embarrassed a Walter,You can be so insensitive sometimes.

An anthrapiodal simeon,

hung suspended from a neolithic tree

gazing into gloomy introspection.

Thus evolved the hot sock 'n the s[lit in the skirt.

Tri wanti lontii gongalope - Anon]

This all sounds like the kind of awful lyrics or poetry written by school kids. unfortunately, i assume you are all adults...do any of you work for a living (oh, no sorry...your all actors aren't you)

I just thought I'd help out a fellow human being exhibiting obvious discomfort about their role in life. I'm here any time for you. Don't be a stranger, you crazy kid

PS- You spelled extraordinary incorrectly. Nevermind, we'll help you through it.

freddie
the rocking jedi badger (temporarily gone to the dark side)

And you also moderated the post...oh well, I'll write a poem:

The Badger is rocking
The Badger is mocking

The Badger corrects spelling
The Badger is telling

He guides the hand and guides the mind
To he the jest cannot be blind

Yet come little buttercup
Into my heart I implore

To the gate you have brought
Step at last through the door.

Freddy, I know you will enjoy the rich symbolism woven into the tapestry of my work. I wrote that on a holiday to a settlement in Little Thetford, at the time I was ridden with acne and my passion for older women grew from a place I was (at the time) uncomfortable with.

Vivaldi played on the radio as we drove to our destination, The Seasons will remain the soundtrack to my adolesence. My inability to spell was partly due to an accident we encountered that summer but I do not wish to bore you with the detail, suffice to say, I am unable to bathe without a floatation device.

Mother cooked pork on an open blaze while father and I gathered and pressed wild flowers into a small leather bound journal. When I think back I can still smell parsley, the garnish was light with a breeze of lemon.

As the days drew to a close so did my mind. The colours are now less vivid and the physical strain on the cotton underpants I wore has finely taken its toll. I wander into the night, th stars leading the way....will we, I wonder, pass each other?

If we do, be sure to let me know!

You are the rocking jedi badger (step back into the light)

ps please don't moderate

pps I know you have picked me up on mistakes before...but shouldn't freddie have a capital (oh dear)?

My teacher said people in glass houses...oh what did she say?

Thank you Don for your support.

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

I feel so proud...my teachers said I'd never ammont to anything. I have just printed the page including your gracious critique.

I felt a stirring, so I decided to pen a wee ditty:

If blue is green then I am red
To give together for ever Im led

I oft to lie in the stream of mire
Or swing instead in the arm of a tire

I believe this to inspired by 'f'reddy's post modernism teachings. I call it my purple phase. The post modernism adopted, is entwined with hazy cubism.

'f'reddy you are my pulse...thank you for keeping me fresh.

This is worth reading...all of it. Some of it is very deep, some of it highly amusing...all, even the criticisms, worthwhile!

"Life is too short to stuff a mushroom"

All the marks of life and scar tissue
Fall away from the flesh,
Dissolving like a malnourished fantasy.
This is how it is when you hide
Amongst the stars.

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

Actually I'm mostly doing it so others will read the thread. I reckon there's some good stuff on this thread and it's fun to read so I'm trying to keep it near the top.

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

1/ Dreams are funny things
People can spend their lives chasing them
Or sometimes they come true overnight
You should never stop dreaming
Otherwise you’ll never wake up.

2/ When I was young I was told
We know more because we’ve lived longer
Now I’m older I’m told
We know more because we understand the world
I want to meet someone who knows as little as I do
So we can learn together.

©A.W. Moore 2005
Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au

Is that all there is? Well if that's all there is my friend, then let's keep dancing.
www.tonymoore.id.au