I. Waiting Room
Nervous, I sit.
Foot-tapping, tongue-wagging,knee-knocking,
White-knuckled nervous.
All around me other people move
                             talk
                                breathe!
I sit, nervous.
Buried in a heavy tale to keep the wild feeling down.
It lays,
A horrid, spiteful creature,
Right below my breasts,
Waiting.

II. Entering the Theater
I am called with some others.
I must unbury myself from my tale
And fight the creature to the floor again without it.
The creature howls,
              struggles.
I sift through my memory for the piece in my mind,
Try to distract the beast with it.

We enter a room filled with people.
The hateful creature begins to get loose.
It isn't distracted by the words, 
I take a deep breath
And muscle it back to the ground again.

I find a place and sit firmly 
On top of the creature.  

Be still!

III.  The Audition Itself
My name is called.
It is a real struggle to keep the beast
(Foul creature)
Hidden from those at the table.
I take one more breath to try to calm the creature
It will not be calmed.
I must clearly recite the piece
While I fight to keep the horrid thing
Out of sight.

At last I am finished
Yet not.
I still have to sit down again.

I drag the creature back to my seat.
Then, reluctantly, I release it.

13 responses total.

This is another one of those Julie Pratt Special-Written-on-the-Spot 
poems.  Anybody care to comment?

I like this...but one spot kinda bugs me:

"I must unbury myself from my tale
 And fight the creature to the floor again without it.
 The creature howls,
               struggles."

am I missing somethign or is it O.K. to ask "Without what?"

Grammatically, this is awkward and you leave your meaning unclear.

I know.  I had a look at it.  I've fixed it, I hope, and, when it's 
completely fixed, I'll re-post it under a different item and you guys 
can tell me what you think.  Okay?

just a musing
love does not command
love does not demand
it frees your mind 
does not keep you in a bind
for binds bring sorrow
and everything is gone by tomorrow
and then there is pain
and we see that everything was in vain
love is not pleasure
love is not sorrow
love is no toy
for love is sheer joy

(penned this down a few days back....and found this poetry room here so just
thought would put it here )

Uhm, mayhaps you could put this in a new item, Rajababu... It's nice, but,
ah, in this item I think... that is:  This item is here to discuss Julie's
peice, to be blunt.

About Julie's piece:
        I can somewhat emphasize with this one, but I'm not sure I know what
"the beast" is that you're refering to.  I think perhaps you are talking about
a rather violent nerveousness; sweating, shakes, etc, that some of us are
inclined to.

I've moved Rajababu's piece to it's own item, where it can get some proper
attention. (item 522)

cloud you are correct...
The beast referred to is nervousness.

Tell the man what he's won, Johnny

It's a brand new car!!

Julie got some feedback from a friend of ours and she picked right up on 
it.  She identified correctly the urge to hang on to that fear and 
nervousness, and a reluctance to let it go.

nice...  
i like it... nervousness very well fits..

<bows>  Thank you.  Thank you.  No applause, please.

Just throw money.

<grins>

<allida doesn't have any money to throw.>
throw money at me please?????
<j/k>

(linked to the new poetry conf)

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