performance – One Woman's Quest

Free

Blazing glorious
day bids adieu

Night has it own
shadowy shenanigans

Dawn and dusk –
ever-submissive

Wait with anticipation
for the gratuitous show.

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknuton. Art my own)

To orchestrate
harmony of the whole
banish dysphoric memories

Salvage unraveled bits,
extinguish sulphur stench
of failed flames

The show is underway:
banish past to backstage,
future is in the audience.

(Image my own)

Dressed in our finest personas
we submit to public scrutiny,
polish our performances, risk
criticism to achieve the prize

Practice behind the scenes
preparing lists and scripts,
questioning qualifications,
comparisons deflating egos

Yet we succumb to pressure
step into the spotlight, react
emotions and insecurities
demolishing golden intentions

We scramble for our lines,
to maintain integrity, curse
our folly, our vulnerability
slaves to external editors

Competition eradicates value
of black and white resumes
survival of the fittest presides
we race to stay in the running

traces of authenticity discarded
like unwanted footage, spliced
realities catering to contrived
standards: a social experiment.

Point me towards the boards;
watch me improvise – calm
rehearsed, funny mastered,

catering to audiences a forte’,
command performances key
to locking out this perusing

soul’s wordless angst – will
unleash soliloquies, cleverly
unscripted quips to delight

well-attended audiences,
on queue hijinks, will not miss
a line, or quit the show, find

refuge in the wings. Spotlights
motivate me, trigger adrenaline;
save me from an interminable foe

that stalks behind the curtain
sneers at applause, assures me
ovation does not to me apply.