Monday, June 16, 2014

Playing Lady MacBeth



For you and me it seems
one scene of joy to a hundred of sorrow
we are our lines; but no words come when pain enters
I turn, shattering spotlight beams

I now have a paper mask to wear
a virgin plaster, a face white and pale
I stand majestic in tapestried words until the dagger glints
I step away from the circle of light

For you I changed a hundred times for the lies' long drill-
through the red-lit, hundred, sorrow'd days:
now I am mad: comic-mouthing with a paisley'd mask,
I burn in the spotlight beams






painting: Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth, by John Singer Sargent