Plays Or PedagogiesThe essentials stay hidden,
The credentials anything but,
Though it’s both on the starlet
And the viewer, the same,
That widens your eyes but clamps your smart-mouth shut.
It may just not occur at the counter,
But once you’re immersed in the arts,
Your behind aches from having sat tart,
For way too long, as does your heart,
And surprised I won’t be, if in there,
You were behind a shopping cart!
And then comes the earth-shaker,
For that’s what it is to me,
That’s shaken me up so deep,
Down within weep;
My emotions are so important here, you see.
For they are what we all share,
Where we stand alike and come together,
Though you may not gather,
Oh my sisters, but we are one in this weather,
This fight for the mere better.
Of what, you ask??
How can you, when you and I,
Have nodded off in the same theatre,
encountered the same seers
Sans sight,
When you couldn’t tell apart Cleopatra and Antony
And sounded a sigh,
And withered away from an eager,
infant pink to dry,
Old gray, once the curtains had climbed unattainably high??
There are of course the exceptions,
Preity Zinta and Antony Hopkins,
Make my shut mouth gape in awe
(though it ain’t theatre acting),
Shakespeare’s and Shaws’ seems like legendary
Glimpses of heaven from them coming;
Their performance so real,
it’s not even anymore acting.
But they are just a handful,
And a handful they’ll remain,
For the work is for any Cain,
Who can cup his hands for the payin’,
And ignore the parched pupils
watching his pretentious playin’.
You see, it oughtn’t to be taken so callously,
For those plays staged by the torpid thespian,
We suffer the summer, weakened on ‘em,
Until the winter-descend,
Bear through, hollow till the end,
The revolution must arrive before the Depression sets in
So when will they realize?
Will you tell them or has it got to be me?
The one to take,bear and not feign,
To stand up, against and finally out?! Nay,
I do your work now, so that you don’t whine
When your teeth creak!
Oh sacred imposters, lend me your eyes,
Thou art amusing for thou art lying,
It does not suffice to merely know the lines,
Or to blame it on the lack of discipline,
For its missing the most in thine!
You are God, guard and guide,
The bearer of the lamp to the light,
You are to bring to life,
Yourself and the audience alike.
Why would you groan now, when you were aware
Of this all the while?
For after having lived in the darkness of the theatre,
Unaccustomed to us nocturnal, the world is like the glaring sun,
We blink stupidly, look around and find familiar none.
Now, a return to the melodrama would be simply dumb.
Finally, plough forward cautiously with the fear of getting burned.
My only hope is that you provide me artillery,
(As my chicken and kitchen are barren for the time being),
For the horrific histrionics and atrocious acting.
And swear to me you shall head the call
Only from the inner being,
To bring in the light where it’s dark, for if anything,
It’ll make for us and posterity, a better quality of living.
Poem By:Zerin Zachariah
