Poem 268 – The Magic of the Theatre

The magic of the theatre
Consists not in the things on stage
But rather the darkness of the wings
In which the pain and anger of the day
Are hidden beneath the scattered detritus
Of endless Art; Anger is subsumed
And released in sanctified pleasure.


Dear readers,

Some of you who have been reading this blog for a while (You are much appreciated) may remember that I wrote a poem called The Fallen Curtain after being in an opera last year. This year I was in another one, and wrote this on the last night. I enjoy being in theatres – there’s something very special about the backstage area. I hope that this poem conveys some of that uniqueness.

Kind regards,

The Hapless Neo-Romantic


Tell us what you thought, or if to you these words are naught.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s