Tuesday, August 9, 2011

The Magician

The illusionist makes wide sweeping gestures
walks across the stage and back again
all the while he produces the magic
he is well known for.

There is a moment in the performance
when I’m lost in the show, don’t see
the strings or mirrors, don’t care about
the trick.  He smiles.

I try to stay in the moment but the spell
is broken.  I see him through the fog,
no magic, no special powers, just a man
of subterfuge and lies.


Peggy said...

It is more fun to stay in the moment. But I guess we do have to acknowledge the subterfuge and lies, sadly.

Ann said...

My sentiments exactly, Judy!

Victoria said...

You are good on this theme Judy - the whole issue of truth and lie, delusions and cons. I remember other poems of yours on these themes and they always speak strongly to me, like the one about the lottery tickets.

Willow said...

Wow, Judy, powerful ending. There is no magic, only subterfuge and lies.

Rachel Hoyt said...

Haha! Take that, magicians. :) Great write.

Mary said...

Very few magicians can disguise their subterfuge well. I like this poem!

California Ink in Motion said...

Love poems about Magicians. Yours was wonderful and so true.
I wrote one awhile back.

Thank you for posting your wonderful poee.

California Ink in Motion said...

Guess my html needs work

Mike Patrick said...

Ah, feet of clay. Where once magic was misdirection and slight of hand, today's magician lives on special effects and a crowd of assistants. I liked the old days.