swanthief's blogs

Smoke and Mirrors ...

May 04, 2012

Those whispered words fall from your lips,
tumbling forth with a hasty cadence.
Night after night, it seems the same old dance.
Smoke and mirrors, baby.
Nothing more. That's what you'd say.
But it's become a game,
telephone tag without the phone.
Words and meanings become misconstrued.
Your tales, they spin ‘round,
an endless circle, a Ring around the Rosie.
And like ashes in wine, their true meaning,
well, it's gone down the hill
along with Jack and Jill.

Stepping onto the stage,
those invisible masks unfurl,
shrouding you in a second skin.
They breathe life into the performer.
Applause and cheers sustain the energy,
for the now at least.
Giving you that adrenaline high,
the junkie's fix.

For tomorrow when the lights come up,
all that remains will be castles in the sand.
Waiting, waiting to be swept out to sea,
as a veil of darkness chases the sun away.
And the stage, oh, she’ll beckon once again.

Backstage, the smoke lingers heavy in the air
while cigarettes sizzle in cold coffee.
Loud voices, they talk, they laugh, they say nothing.
The soft strumming of a guitar,
creating a yet unheard song.
On the outside, watching you, I am.
You're in another world.
I ask if you're ok.
You answer with a soft kiss and

Those whispered words again fall from your lips,
tumbling forth with that hasty cadence.
Night after night, it seems the same old dance.
Just smoke and mirrors, baby, just smoke and mirrors.

Written: May 04, 2012
Posted: May 04, 2012
MCN: C699U-MN8D8-FE64R
© C Berger
All Rights Reserved

NOTE: Poem written to go with a photo of a band performing on stage. Recently photo'd some bands before, after, and during performing ...