Requiem for an Aging Prima Donna
“Encore!” they bleed
Curtsied and ruffled,
Once royal flesh, now
Leotard callous kneed
Greasy painted mirth,
I bow my swanned head
in kinned animate dread.
Dwindled times chant
Wrinkles and sags
Wriggle and creep,
Seep from concealed
Lucid farrows,
Creases that won’t be
denied. Inside I weep.
Curtains sweep, velvet
hushed, slippered feet
Pid-pad scarred planks.
Trembled steel, I sway and
Wipe mirrored mirage away,
Aggrieved hag, I kiss bliss,
A syringed candle salve.
Morning’s cleaner finds a
Crumpled bag of bones,
Camisoled and flung, my
Arthritic bird claw frozen
Over trickling stemware.
A quiet squeaky gurney
To my final dressing room.
image 1: “The Dancer,” 1890 painting by Pierre Carrier-Belleuse
image 2: “Ballet Dancer with Black Cat,” 1891 painting by Pierre Carrier-Belleuse
Laura is today’s host of dVerse. Laura says:
Your challenge is to take FIVE of these 21 ‘charms’ and string them together in a poem with style and word length of your choosing. You should read [Samuel Greenberg’s] whole poem “The pale Impromptu” and must cite it in your post:
Dim Accuracy; Candle salve; Consumed moon;
Eyes jealousy; Fouls deviation; Grey life;
Hearts brow; Lucid farrows; Nulling marrows;
Painted mirth; Pale heat; Palmed rose;
Pearls from tissue; Pellucid quest; Royal flesh;
Skulls of saints; Slime pigments; Spiritual songs;
Solitudes wish; Times chant; Yellow dreams;
Tao Talk 
What a sad demise of a prima ballerina… as always you must cease before the end is there.
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Thank you much, Bjorn, yes, ideally…
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This is such a vivid picture of the faded prima donna and a really good use of the prompt- a ‘pathetique’ full of decay and sumptuous lines like
“Wriggle and creep,
Seep from concealed
Lucid farrows,”
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Many thanks, Laura.
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A lovely requiem, Lisa! I haven’t read poetry about ballet for a long time and I love the pictures you chose to illustrate yours. I was drawn to the lines about wrinkles and creases, which are things that many of us are concerned with these days. I gasped at the lines:
‘Morning’s cleaner finds a
Crumpled bag of bones,
Camisoled and flung, my
Arthritic bird claw frozen’.
It reminded me of a piece of flash fiction I wrote back in 2016:
https://writinginnorthnorfolk.com/dancing-with-shadows/
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Thanks much, Kim! I just read your story and definitely see a connection between the two. The needle is a type of shadow for sure.
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Nice use of rhyme in this, and I do like your opening lines!
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Thank you, Jane. No matter how jacked-up Greenberg’s lines are they all lead to darkness.
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That’s true 🙂
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I like all those “eep” sounds. That last stanza is a stunning ending. I wondered about hauntings. Great write, Lisa.
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Thanks, Sarah.
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This is incredibly stunning, Lisa! 💝 I love; “Trembled steel, I sway and wipe mirrored mirage away.”
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Thank you so much, Sanaa ❤
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This prompt has really brought out the best in our imagination — well done.
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Thank you, Francis, you’re right!
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So much beautiful imagery that leads up to the dancer’s demise. The comparisons between young and old, and how it all had changed for her. With leading up to her death, it made my stomach drop. The way you wrote this was as elegant itself like a dance. How beautifully written and solemn. I especially loved these lines:
“A quiet squeaky gurney
To my final dressing room.”
The use of “final dressing room” is clever and emotional. Very beautifully penned and eloquent. ❤ ❤
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❤ Thank you, Lucy, for seeing her.
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Lovely piece Lisa, lots of clever sounding add to the imagery – and Greenberg’s surrealist charms – ‘concealed / Lucid farrows’ – adds to the sense of the addled confusion of the ballerina at her last. (I always thought ballet was a crap art form that eats its best; at least if you’re a poet, you get to die of TB in a cold garret penniless and alone…)
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LOL I love that last bit. I’ll give up my keyboard when they pry it from my cold, dead arthritis-laden fingers. Thank you for reading and your comments.
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I love the fact that you gave us a coherent tale, and then sprinkled the dark spice of Greenberg’s spirit as needed. I could sense the line breaks implied, loved the internal rhymes, and the haunting loss that we artists must all one day confront. I loved Peter’s comment about we poets, who can lose our looks, our mobility, our treasures and still are capable of scrawling out poetic truth. I envision that on my death day, I will start an epic poem, and just stop mid-sentence and mid-message, just become three dots and a smudge of ink.
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❤ Love your comment, Glenn. May we all be so blessed.
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These little Greenberg “charms” were not easy to assimilate into a poem — but bravo Lisa… well done! 🙂
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🙂 Thank you! It was a real challenge, you’re right.
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kaykuala
A quiet squeaky gurney
To my final dressing room.
She already had her day, just bidding her time. The sad moments all will experience prior to fading away. Touching take Jade!
Hank
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Indeed, Hank. Thanks.
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Oh I love where the “charms” took you Lisa! The last stanza was epic and I loved the image of her arthritic hand clutching that glass ☺️
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🙂 ❤ Christine so glad you enjoyed the poem.
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Your story poem was creative. It’s a sad tale but, I enjoyed reading every line. Thanks
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Truedessa, the story came to me through those charming charms, thank you and glad you enjoyed them.
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Your poem is steeped in poignancy and realism.
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Sadje, thank you very much.
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My pleasure
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The pathos of that final performance…Brava!
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Many thanks, Lynn!
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Stunningly visual and a heartbreaking tale!
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😦 Thank you, Punam.
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You are welcome.
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You’ve employed Greenberg’s charms in a most visceral manner here, Lisa. I think there is an inherent criticism within your words of a society which discards women as soon as they cease being young and nubile. It’s also true of Hollywood and I’m surprised and a bit disappointed that the ‘Me too’ movement didn’t make more of this.
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Ingrid, 100% in agreement with you.
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Not only did you capture the atmosphere of Greenberg, you created a vivid glimpse into the struggles of an aging body and spirit. (K)
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❤ Thank you.
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Wow! This like an antithesis to “Sunset Boulevard,” with the burned-out star instead dreading a return to the limelight, well aware that she has reached her nadir. Well done.
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Ken, thank you and appreciate your comment.
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You nailed it, Jade. I couldn’t make this prompt work for me at all.
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It wasn’t easy for me either, Alexandra, especially since I wrote it with only 3 of the prompts got ready to post and saw I needed 5 of them! Thank you.
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A very sad but beautiful poem. So well done Lisa. You have captured the feeling of angst and agony in those last performances. Remembering how it used to be…
Curtains sweep, velvet
hushed, slippered feet
Pid-pad scarred planks.
Trembled steel, I sway and
Wipe mirrored mirage away,
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Thank you, Dwight.
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You are welcome!
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Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
A wonderful poem shared by a talented writer.
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Thank you, John 🙂
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I enjoyed the poem and thank you for sharing the poetry.
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Thank you and you are welcome, John. I appreciate you reblogging also.
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I enjoyed your work and you are welcome.
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Beautiful writing! I really enjoyed this poem. So glad to have found your work, Lisa 😊
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Thank you, Katy 🙂
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Moving poem….touches the truth of the pain and nostalgia of this journey of aging….Thank you.
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Many thanks and happy to oblige.
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