actor
Marlon Brando
“An actor is at most a poet and at least an entertainer.” | |
Marlon Brando |
Peter O’Toole – R.I.P.
“BEE BOP” by Bill Duke
Outsides fine
And I guess that’s the way it’s supposed to be
Outsides fine
But that’s got nothin’ to do with me
Outside things are goin’ swell
But I’m at the bottom of a wishin’ well
Cold as hell
Inside
Outside thing’s are goin’ fine:
Smellin’ flowers
Drinkin’ wine
Lovin’ people
Bein’ kind
Refined
But inside things are ready to bust
Mistrust is turnin’ my love to lust
Confusion’s makin’ fun of hate
All my earlies come too late
Identity treats me like a dog
And all of it’s driftin’ through a fog
Inside
Outside goin’ around givin’ advice
Tellin’ folks that bad is nice
And how great things must have been for Christ
Because he was willin’ to pay the price
But inside
The price has never been paid
And all except delusions fade
Like limping shadows across a shade
Of all my broken promises made
Afraid
Outsides fine
And I guess that’s the way it’s supposed to be
Outsides fine
But that’s got nothin’ to do with me
Outside things are goin’ swell
But I’m at the bottom of a wishin’ well
Cold as hell
Inside
All Rights Reserved
© 2011
James Dean
Marlon Brando
Michael Camacho
“The Wheel of Time Read my Mind, with a Penny for My Thoughts”
-Michael Ferdinand Camacho – actor/singer
© 2010
Congratulations to Bill Duke on receiving Director’s Guild’s Lifetime Achievement Award!
“POEM TO THE WORLD”
When lovers
on the brink
of
finding out
Recline on
fat illusions
of
their words
And utter platitudes
-instead of shouts
Forget
tender silences
they’ve shared
And all confession’s
awkwardness they’ve dared
Like
children peeking softly from their doubts,
There comes a time
of
darkness and despair
When moments seem
like hours under weights
Regret and fear
like
garbage fills the air
And lips of fondest memories
turn to hate.
When lovers
on the brink
of
coming near
forget
the
body’s swelled
and
aching cries
And
substitute excuses for their tears,
Something soft
and silent in them dies.
And
that, perhaps, is why there are old men
On benches
all alone
in city parks
And
bony-fingered spinsters with hard sad eyes
Knitting things for babies in the dark
And
maybe why we’re lonely
in
the spring
When
all the earth her fat thighs open wide
To show us all her pretty under-things
And
laughingly invites us to her side
To
kiss away the differences we’ve known
With the
tenderness
and
wisdom of her groans
Yet
We
lie beside each other
in despair
While
our bodies
make love
–in
the air.
All Rights Reserved
© 2009
David Proval
“As an artist you need to feel what you feel and say what you mean
and tell the truth…even if your lying.”
All Rights Reserved
© 2010