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 Feb 2020 countingstars
Mims
Bring me along!
To your road trip of fun!
I'll hop In the backseat,
Unbothered by the summer heat,
And we'll drive till your fingers blister on the steering wheel.

I can ride along!
S'long I can pick the music,
Ain't really nothing to it,
But we might hit some old superchic,

Oh! Bring me along!
My skin itches to touch the hot air,
Blooming through the window,
At 60mph.

Oh won't you let me tag along?
Road Trip

the days are getting warmer now,
the sun is staying up later in the day,
the trade are winds blowing, and somehow,
I have to find me another way,

I want to get on my bike and ride,
ride my Harley into the western wind til night,
down I-10 out of Jacksonville, my shiny Elektra Glide,
hair blowing in the breeze, muscles flexing, grip tight,

the road changes to route 90 thru old Baton Rouge, LA,
heading all the way to Houston by sunsets fall,
finding a place to rest my weary soul today,
tomorrow will bring the curtain call,

heading north on 45 up to Dallas,  big “D” they say,  
now its I-35 to the destination in my mind,
she does not know that I am arriving this day,
I hope in her heart, it's love I find,

we've been friends it seems, like so very long,
never thought this time would ever ever be,
I've written just for her, this very special song,
OK City it says on the sign in front of me,

now I pull up to her place, anticipation I can feel,
taking deep breathe, to gather up my self,  
brush the dust off, hoping I can close the deal,
remembering her picture, on my shelf,

she opens the door, with that smile, cuter than a bug,
I stare at her in disbelief, my jaw dropping low,
I reach for her, with my arms wide for loving hug,
her sweet kiss on my lips makes my body glow,

and so this road trip ends with happy heart,
we spent all night talking about the future plans,
never again will we spend a night apart,
melting hearts, as we speak each others name

Gomer LePoet....
 Feb 2020 countingstars
S S
Shimmers molten road
Still air squats, beads, on my brow
Summer road trip woes.

Seat turns to quick sand
Thighs stuck fast can move no more
Summer road trip woes.

Each breath sighs, heavy
Vapoured water chokes the air
Summer road trip woes.

No soul seen for miles
Gauge collapses on empty
Woeful road trip end.
I want to go on a roadtrip. Away from things that's familiar and safe. I want to get away and break free. Maybe with someone special or maybe all on my own.  I want to raid the oldest libraries and read all the books I can to my heart's content. I want to visit museums and coffee shops and ice cream parlors and try everything they have. I want to take a walk to the oldest streets, alone or holding someone's hand, while eating ice cream. I want to explore places. I want to sleep in a tent. I want to sleep under the stars. I want to drive a motorbike. Stop a lot just to appreciate the view, take it all in the beauty before my eyes, breathe fresh air. I want to have polaroid camera and capture everything in the moment. Capture the sunrise and sunset. Capture a boy's wide smile or the old lady's toothless grin or the two lovers' embrace. I want to take pictures of myself smiling from ear to ear. I want to chase the moon and the fog. Spend hours picking strawberries, smelling flowers. I want to throw my hands in the air and dance and feel the wind in my hair. I want to buy souvenirs from each place I go as if the pictures I take are not enough, I want something that will last. I want to meet new people and make new friends. I want to make memories that will forever stay with me.
Will you go with me? :)
 Feb 2020 countingstars
silli
they look at me as a circus act
they look at me as an acrobat
I'm twisted and turned and pushed on my back
that's why they call me a circus act
and I am the ****** you point and laugh at
but in reality I am the sanity
of this circus act
and we all take part disguised by lies
we all have our own show
we are famous for our wonderful tricks and our flips
because we are the circus show
and we try our hardest to get out of this cage
the lions are hungry and we cant play this game
and if the circus doesn't **** you
you will hang
on the tightrope
no net on the ground
and we will ride our unicycle off of the bridge
we will gather our money
every penny and dime
for tickets to see the freaks in the circus act
but we are the show
The posters said tomorrow
At eleven on the dot
The Mishkin Brothers Circus
Would be here ....on this spot

There would be no carnival or midway
Just one tent and three rings
And all of the excitement
That a good old circus brings

There would be elephants and lions
Trapeze artists overhead
Dancing dogs and ponies
And zebras painted red

Clowns of all description
Answering to just one man
In the center of the circle
Was Mishkin brother....Dan

He'd run the show for twenty years
Gone from town to town to town
In one day they would get set up
And in two, they'd tear it down

One day to show the locals
The circus still was an event
With magic, form the Barnum Days
All housed inside one tent

The sideshow barkers and their geeks
Were not with this fine group
Dan Mishkin had assembled
Only the finest circus troup

From Russia he had jugglers
Knife throwers, just the best
******* riders from Decatur
Along with all the rest

Fourteen trucks and trailers
Pulled into town the night before
Breaking ground once they arrived
Working right through until four

Just old time entertainment
No travelling gypsy band was this
It was the Mishkin Brothers Circus
It was something not to miss

The show was started promptly
At twelve o'clock, like the sign said
A parade of all the players
And the zebras painted red

Two shows and it was over
The whole routine began anew
The field was once more empty
Gone was the Mishkin rolling zoo

A year from now, we'd see the signs
And we'd all go to the tent
To see the Mishkin Brothers Circus
The best money ever spent
Knock Knock Knock
On my trailer door.
More work to be done, I'm too sore and too tired to do more.
A little young lady stood there, her face painted white.
What was she doing out here in the middle of the night?
Long Teal hair framed her face.
but why was she here, she's a little out of place.
Pink hearts were painted on her cheek bones.
I invited her in
it was stupid.
I was feeling so alone.

"How do I join the circus?"
she asked.

"Well you already look the part"
I said gesturing at her Pink face paint hearts
"How old are you little Miss?"

"Seventeen today"

"Are you serious about this?"

"Yes, Sir I mean business, okay?"

"Are you aware you're under age?"

"Who else but the circus would take a runaway?"

"I bet your parents are missing you."

"Yes, I'm sure I'm greatly missed, that much is true."

"Then what brings you here?'"

"I want to join the circus haven't I made that clear?"

"Why would you want to be here and scoop elephant dung? Look at you, Under all the make up you're most likely beautiful and Gosh, you're so young."

she wrapped her arms around me I was breathless from how tightly she clung.

"Mam, what are you doing"

"listening to your heartbeat."

"what's it sound like?"

"Like life, it sounds like life. I'd give anything to feel alive."

"What's wrong with your life what about your family and your friends?"

"I'm misunderstood by them, and the torture never ends. I know it sounds funny since I'm dressed like a clown. But that's all I've ever been to anyone. A joke, never taken seriously. Maybe they were Right. Because for me, being a joke just comes so easily."

"come on lets wash your face off, Let me see the real you."

She wouldn't stop holding me she said, "I just want to feel you."

I shook her off and took her hand, led her to the sink. In a strange way this little lady felt like some sort of missing link.

"What makes your heart beat?"
She asked as I was washing off her mask.

"What a peculiar question for you to ask."

"It's just my heart keeps beating, but for no one. I have no one."

I layed down the rag when I was done.
her beauty was unbelievable.
She was God's masterpiece and I was his scribble.

"I don't know what my heart beats for.
But I know it's skipping beats for you Mi Amor."

"So you'll let me stay here? You'll let me be a circus clown."

I tilted up her chin so she'd stop looking down.
"I'm not denying you the fact you make the birds in my rib cage sing.
But, listen to me. you need to go on home now Darling."

"What's that? I've had many houses but never a home.
Please, I'm begging you don't make me go.
I'm all alone
I ran away to join the circus don't you understand?"

I tried to calm her down as I took her by the hand.
"Cant you see that this is wrong? You've run away to join the circus but you don't belong here.
You've runaway to join the circus
But you're not a clown my dear.
I understand that you've run away and your not looking back.
You've run away to join the circus.
How about, instead, you run away with me. We'll follow the train tracks. It will come easily."

We've made a life for ourselves now, one not run by fear.
But every night I wash off her make up and remind her.
"You're not a clown my Dear"


© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
the circus train comes to town once a year,
carrying Russian ballerinas & corporate America dropouts.
she brings an irresistible bouquet of
caramel apples & greasepaint, of
cotton candy & mechanical smoke.
the circus is a seductive beast, she'll grab your heart
between her teeth & she won't let go, like a
rabid dog.

when the show begins on opening night,
you'll be sure to grab a front row seat, right in the
Grand Stand, among the soccer moms & their sticky-faced toddlers.
you'll feel the childish delight bubble
in your chest when the music swells, when the elephants march
& the clowns tumble out in garish colors.

after the show, you'll stumble to the three rings with the
toddlers & their tired moms, right to the center ring, don't be
shy when the clown dressed in yellow & black,
like a bumblebee, comes towards you, a devilish grin on
his painted coal black lips.
your knees will tremble, you'll turn as red as his big nose, when he pulls your back to his solid chest, & he begins to juggle right in front of you.

"stick around, after closing" he murmurs in your ear, "that's when the real circus begins."

the circus is painted bright, a swirling mass of
red & blue, with sparks of yellow, ribbons of pink.
even when the show is over, the mystery is still
there, the sweet seduction lingers, like an old lover's fingers can trace circles on your skin in the dead of night.

when the bumblebee clown drags you around town that night,
as if he lives there & not you, you'll go along with him,
your heart racing fast, as fast as the girl dressed in
pink spandex flew from the cannon across the circus ceiling,
how could you have forgotten that?

he'll take you to McDonald's, ask you to pay for the meal, he's broke until Thursday at 2. of course. you split a small
fry and a chocolate shake, by then it's midnight,
he performs some simple magic tricks, balancing a
chair on the edge of his chin, snagging a shining quarter
from your brunette curls, watch out, girl, he's reeling you in,
he's as seductive as the circus.

he will walk you back to your college dorm &
he's sure to mention how it's been years since he has
been inside a dormitory, since clown college, yes it's real.
your roommate is gone & you're not ready to say goodbye
just yet, so you'll sign him in & guide him to your third floor
room.

he marvels at your textbooks & cuddles your teddy bear
brought from home, while you drink him in, solid, squat,
a true Texican, his skin is brown as caramel, & you wander
if he will taste just as sweet. he'll notice your blush, & pull
you close, pinch your hips, nuzzle your neck & kiss you hard,
maybe a bit too hard.

he lays you on your back, & you're naked, you're scared,
vulnerable, you watch him dip his head & kiss you, nibble you in that sweet, sweet forbidden spot. there's a black coal
in your chest, in the pit of your stomach, you're disgusted,
you're curious, you taste the circus firsthand, gagging.

the circus will remain in town for
an entire week, & for an entire week you have a
circus clown as a boyfriend.
you take him on adventures around your college campus,
to your favorite burger spot, to the big water balloon fight
& he'll show you the circus world, you'll hug
an elephant, you'll drink your first beer in Clown Alley,
& you'll watch the show a dozen times.

he'll write you a love letter on your skin, caramel drips on
China porcelain, he'll leave bruises in the shapes of hearts,
& you'll cry when he leaves, it's only been a week, but
it's been a lifetime. he'll hold you tight, too tight, and he'll whisper,

"it's only a year, i'll see you in a year."

when the circus train leaves, the asphalt lot will be
conspicuously empty, except for a trampled clown nose,
much like your aching heart. you'll feel numb & blue,
you'll cling to your phone, the clown promised you
he would call.
you fall asleep cradling your phone to your chest, startle awake when he finally calls you, it's 4 in the morning, you have an early class, but that can wait, his voice is on the other line.

you'll lose a lot more than sleep when you fall in love
with a circus clown, you have to conform to his schedule,
you see, he is the one calling the shots, not you, not we.
you'll start to slip up in your classes, all you do is stare at your phone screen, who cares about supply vs. demand, anyway?

you hitch a ride to see the clown half a year later, you could
hardly stand him being an hour away, & you'll fly into his arms
like a trapeze artist, after the show, he'll carry you like a bride
to his coffin
bed & you're naked again, scared, vulnerable, he's all the way
he's grunting and sweating, and you're cowering, numb.

you leave 15 minutes later, with shaky thighs, you're slightly
nauseated, you try to kiss him goodbye, but he pushes you away,
he's got eyes on the concession stand girl, the one with
raven black hair and a Marilyn Monroe piercing. your heart drops as you get into the car, your friend begs you to talk, but you can't,
you're confused, you're scared, you won't see the clown
for some time to come.

you try to focus on your schoolwork, but your As slip to Ds, you
try to go out with your friends, but they want to talk about
the cute guy in psychology, not about a circus clown miles away.
you forgot to do laundry, all you do is lay in bed, your dorm is
smelling moldy, your roommate starts to stay away. you're
falling, sinking into a blue sea, deep, dark, endless.

when you fall in love with a circus clown, you must know
you're just another Rube from another city, nothing special,
you see, he's got girlfriends in Florida and Las Vegas, that
concession stand girl, too, you're nothing special, girl,
not even close. you gave it all up, your love & your
bleeding heart, to a circus clown, you foolish girl, don't
you know, he'll just play you as hard as he plays in the
circus ring?
A fictitious retelling of the very non-fictitious years I spent in love with a real-life circus clown. It's been three years since my heart was broken, and I finally feel like I can tell my tale.
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