Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jade Feb 2018
Come one,

come all

and

join me

for a night of

unadulterated madness.
--------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------------
“I see a dreadful fright in your future.”

–Madame Tarot
-----------------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------
Poor, dizzy fools.

Watch how they

go round and round

until their eyes pop

from their sockets,

until they *****

pink streaks of cotton candy

onto the sweet

horses with golden hooves

and blazing eyes.

–Cursed Carousel
--------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------------
My lovely Lady Tightrope

I do believe that skirt is

far too short and

that leotard far too snug.



When you said you wished

to put on a show for us,

I did not realize this is

what you had implied.

–Getting Freaky
----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------
They say these grounds are haunted

by little girls in feathered bonnets

and little boys in blue trousers.


And, if you listen carefully,

mingled in with the pervasive

notes of carnival music

are the morbid wails of these children–

children whose balloons have burst,

and whose ice cream cones have been dropped.
--------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------------
“But Mr. Clown, mama says I’m not supposed to take candy from strangers.”
-----------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------------
How ironic that the ringmaster

is missing his own ring finger.

–She purred like a kitty but knew how to pounce
----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------
“Why, what terribly big teeth you have.”

“The better to eat you with, my dear.”
----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------
I present to you

The Great Dr. Whim.



Watch how he saws his

assistant in half.



Relish in the piercing

serenade of her screams,

and how they ricochet off the

tapestried walls.



Grin wildly as her blood–

thick with candy floss

and other disgustingly sweet

delicacies–

drips down into the

cracks of the floorboards,

slowly inching its way

towards the audience.

–Magician’s Corner
----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------
See there?


Hidden among the

silhouette of the trees

is a man with

blistered lips and

charred teeth.


If you look carefully,

from a distance,

you will notice

a gray fog curling above the

pines–

it is the smoke billowing from his

nostrils,

threatening to wrap

its angry hands

around any guest

who dare venture too far

from the carnival grounds.

–Fire Eater
-----------------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------
More often than not

his daggers do not hit the target,

but instead find themselves

embedded in

the backs of our

lovely attendees.

–Knife Thrower
---------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------
And to end the evening,

we have something spectacular

in store for you–

our human cannonball.


He is to fly,

but to never come down,

cut from his tether

to this earth

like a balloon that has been cut

from its string.


And at the most climactic moment

of his soaring escapade,

his flesh is to ignite,

leaving for his viewers

something resembling a firework show,

as a mesh of burning cartilage and

scorched bone set the night

sky ablaze with horror.
---------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------
Oh?


You say you are afraid?


But I am simply fulfilling

the promise I made to you

upon your initial arrival–

it was madness I promised,

and it is madness you have received.
Jasmine Reid Feb 2018
The music chimes around everyone, as the clowns come out.
There for fun and happiness, don't trust them little one.
The balloons are filled with poison, and if popped, you know the result.

Do not give into their lies about joyous adventures and fun, fun, fun!
Never run away with the circus, the singer is out back, smoking her *** with the lions.
The acrobats are in their carriage making out.
The knife thrower is popping his pills, his costume covering the bandages from the encoring crowd
The clowns leading little girls into the forest, with a cheery smile.
A vile smile.
"It's just a game, now be quiet"

The elephants being whipped and running in circles,
a bear riding a little bike,
the horses gasping for air and dying for a drink.
How evil.

The ringleader getting off inside all the dancers, his performers, his workers. What a wonderful man.
The tent has risen, high and mighty on the east side of America, luring in the innocence of others that just want to feel joy.
Least some survive and are not touched by the vile truth, and are forced to dive down into acceptance.

They are not happy.
They are evil.
Real.

A cloud of smoke leaves the singers mouth, as her eyes are covered in a red shading, her green eyes popping out.
The knife throwers container dropped to the floor, his body throwing up blood, tearing itself up piece by piece.
A flashlight growing over the clown in the woods.

The girls leave the ringleaders carriage, as he throws his head back, consuming liquid courage, fighting off his demons from the past.

No one is truly happy, this is the real world.
Cruel, Corrupt, Sick, Twisted.
Wrong
Messed up poem by a messed up head.
Raven Feb 2018
Well she

                Spread-eagled in the empty air

                                 Saw the waiting faces

        Time stood still

And she didn’t trust a man in tights

so



She fell

                   She paused in her existence

Feeding her resistance

No one had answers

Not even her



She decided absurdity wasn’t for her

And chose to follow a different philosophy

To live by

And grabbed a solid rung
Marco Benitez Jan 2018
People call it a cage, but I call it my room
I was born here, this is my very home

The lights are starting to shine
Is it already showtime?

The spotlight in the middle of the arena,
All eyes on me.

"DANCE!"
You yell, and I put on a show for you.

"FIGHT!"
Your demand reaches my ears,

"JUMP!"
                                                  ­              "TWIRL!"
                        "ROAR!"
          ­                                                                 ­      "SING!"
                                     "****!"
"SWIM!"
                                                 ­                                               "RUN!"

Your words are my commands,
Commands I Follow without questioning.

My only purpose is to entertain you,
My only desire is to hear you cheer.

You deserve it
You are better than me
I'm just a useless beast.


I got hurt?
It does not matter,
The show must go on.

After all, this show is for you specifically.


And you.


And you.


All of you are important
Let me be your slave
It would be a pleasure.



Kick me
Insult me
Make fun of me
Make me feel miserable.

Just don't hate me
It would ruin my purpose.

Do you hate me?
Am I not entertaining you?

I will change how I look!
I can make you laugh!
I can act better!
I will torture myself if I have to.

Is that not enough?

I can do better.
I can!

Just tell me what you want
I will do anything to please you



Am I still not enough?











WHAT DO YOU WANT?
I PROMISE I CAN DO IT!








no?
















Am I not entertaining anymore?















































**** ME

































EVEN BETTER











I CAN SAVE YOU THE WORK




























































­


































i will **** myself


anything to satisfy my audience.









anything

to satify

YOU

.
Jeevan Oct 2017
“Hello, and welcome to the show.
My name is Captain Sin.”
As Dancers tumble to and fro,
protected by thick skin.
“Release the snare!”, the Captain yells,
gripping a chair, metal strikes bells,
The audience roars with anticipation.
And the tigers temper, is just causation.

But Captain Sin is never through.
Lacking neither whip or mood.
He swings his crop and hits it true,
confidence is what he exudes.
The tiger rears to claw his face,
But Captain Sin just seems displaced,
too quick to see or venerate,
a cause for cheers to celebrate.

Another crack across the skin,
the beast now seems subdued.
Another smack across it's chin,
the monster takes review.

The cage is closed to mournful eyes.
For those who thought of Sin's demise.
And Captain Sin, takes a final bow.
He removes his hat, to cloak his brow.
Sin shades the line of red they missed.
As music plays, the show persists.
Let me know if it reads smoothly.
Ismail Nasution Oct 2017
I was a kid who happened
to be happy being lost
In a crowded amusement park.

It was a fine Saturday evening
And the circus was performing.
A firework of excitement
Was exploding in my head.

A candy floss was on my left hand
And right was parental boredom
That I purposely let it slip away.

And how sweet is memory?
Too sweet to forget
As the circus leaves the town
Early morning on Sunday
yellah girl Sep 2017
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.
Whit Howland Aug 2017
Your circus friends
the roustabouts trapeze girls
and all the other clowns

they've seen the light
and that's why they'll never call
and you know they'll never write

because of this
you swim in pity

to the joy of thousands
of  hollow fans

Whit Howland ©2017
Zero Nine Aug 2017
You think I give a **** how much you kick and scream?
It's actually so ******* cute that you think you're over me.
I know the need to destroy, I know your destructive destiny,
but it's high time, and we both deserve to stay alive. One more
time, I'll beg you ride the rails, arms around me. If I die, I'd prefer
not to be interred by me, all the death in hand as dirt, surrounding.
outstretched fingers
Next page