The Last Act ~

The Last Act ~

 

I watched as you walked away,

And dimmed the lights on my last act.   

 

You left me standing at the threshold,

Holding nothing but my thoughts-

A bouquet of dead roses,

For me to cherish as-

The only token that you’d sent,

In admiration for my performance.

 

Would you have let me role-play-

For just a short time?

No . . .

You removed the mask I wore,

And left me standing there,

Naked and abandoned.

 

My thoughts and my heart I bore,

And wore upon my face,

The mask of my illusions shattered . . .

 

Nothing but a cracking smile,

And broken love mapped my features,

And formed the geography of my face,

Which flapped from the temples,

But, you saw nothing of interest there to trace . . .

 

You dropped the landscape that I’d sketched,

And told me of your attachment-

 

Then you rolled up the map,

And gently put me aside,

And placed me back on the shelf rest.

 

And you closed the door on me.

And left me standing . . .

The only thing left-

 

A bouquet of dead roses in my hand,

The last prop,

In my fourteen month love-act,

Which I’d finally, completed.

 

I let it go,

And I walked away from the stage . . .

Without so much as an applause-

Because . . .

My audience had already left.

 

I looked around at a dead stage,

As the lights went down,

Empty-handed and bereft-

I looked down . . .

And, in a detached mode,

I picked up my bouquet of roses you’d sent me-

To cherish from my final act.

Reviews

[Chris]

Ouch... so many breakups seem so blindsided. I don't "feel" an anger, mainly a sense of "resignation". Almost as if it was somehow expected but still not really seen coming.

[Foxemerald]

Thank you again for your thoughts . . . yes, I think your description of the sentiments expressed are quite accurate. A sense of resignation that characterizes and expectation- and yet, expectation of an event that was not foreseen. Thank you again!

[Wolfwind Words]

This was really good. Normally I find the double spacing a frustrating element in reading poetry, yet in this piece, it helps the reader take in each line slower and forces their mind to mull it over before scrolling on and taking in the next. The shape of the piece flowing smoothly between long to short lines, and then becoming more broken towards the end added a unque flare to the emotions in the ink.

The story being told is tragic, yet it's told with a layer of introspective warmth, as if the words come from an actress on the stage who is being warmed by the stage lights.

Overall, two thumbs up!
Aaron

[Foxemerald]

Hi,

Thank you so much for taking the time to review. Your comments on the syntax, flow, and verse are especially welcome, since I tend to get less commenting on the technical aspect- inasmuch as the content, story, and ‘entertainment’ value. And yet, your insight still gave this egocentric ‘author’ persona the gratification she so covets.

Thank you, and I hope that we will cross thresholds again- I’ll be sure to stop in on you when I get a moment.

Best,
Brooke ~

[B J Hughes]

W O W ! ! !
Foxy, you have thoroughly and completely melted my heart. You have used so many aspects of the stage as metaphor, the visuals you present to my mind are absolutely stunning. I have been given box seats to a stunningly bittersweet performance. Even the construction of your lines, the extra spacings, help set a slow pace to your melancholy, like honey flowing. Exceptional work sweet Fox!!

[Foxemerald]

BJ, thank you very much for your kind review- I don't remember having seen you on this site before . . . are you new here? I appreciate the sentiments you expressed with regards to this piece. It means something to know that my words found a recipient, and that- in spite of the context from which they sprang- their final imprint meant something, anywhere, to someone. That thought is very encouraging- again, my thanks! Please keep in touch ~

[B J Hughes]

You are so very welcome Fox. This was my pleasure I assure you. Yes, I'm fairly new here, still learning the ropes of WC and trying to get my legs under me so to speak.
This poem washes over me! On first reading, I concerned myself with disseminating and parsing meaning from your words and phrases. Once finished, I was so compelled to read it again to allow the full impact of your emotions to fill me from what I had learned from my first reading. So powerful and compelling were your words and so moved was I that I wanted to actually leap on stage, disrupt the performance to take you in my arms and comfort you in your sadness.
Your words are so captivating and enchanting that I look forward to reading more of your writing. Please, keep writing! You have been blessed with a most wonderful gift. :o)

[Foxemerald]

Hi again. Your words have not gone unnoted, and could not have been bestowed on a more 'willing'- I might even venture to say needy, recipient, I assure you. It's gratifying to know that you have imbibed some meaning from this poem, and the woman, the 'self' which I ejected from me the person- and onto this stage as the vase of this wondrous, dark, and incomprehensible emotion, I felt (incomprehensible in the weight of its pain)- is already feeling comforted. I might even write a sequel based on the feeling that thought evokes. Thank you, thank you for your commendation on my work. I really do appreciate it.

[B J Hughes]

There is poetry even in your reply! Describing your projection of yourself as "the 'self' which I ejected from me the person- and onto this stage . . ." sings to me.
And the resonating depth of "this wondrous, dark, and incomprehensible emotion, I felt (incomprehensible in the weight of its pain)", it fairly embraces my empath, having experienced this abysmal painful darkness myself.
Continued reading of this poem has not diminished any of the impact I had experienced from my initial readings. I would so look forward to reading a sequel if your muse so dictates.
Roses to you sweet Fox. And may your stage lights never be dimmed ever again. :o)