#teetering
Have I been too long at the fair?
by Michael R. Burch
Have I been too long at the fair?
The summer has faded,
the leaves have turned brown,
the Ferris wheel teeters,
not up, yet not down . . .
Have I been too long at the fair?
NOTE: This is one of my earliest poems, written around age 15 when we were living with my grandfather within walking distance of the Nashville fairgrounds. I believe the Ferris wheel only operated during the state fair. So my “educated guess” is that this poem was written during the 1973 state fair, or shortly thereafter. I remember watching people hanging suspended in mid-air, waiting for carnies to deposit them safely on terra firma again. Keywords/Tags: state, fair, carnival, carnies, Ferris, wheel, teeters, teetering, up, down, summer, fall, leaves, falling, time
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 6:03 AM UTC
Have I been too long at the fair?
by Michael R. Burch
Have I been too long at the fair?
The summer has faded,
the leaves have turned brown,
the Ferris wheel teeters,
not up, yet not down . . .
Have I been too long at the fair?
NOTE: This is one of my earliest poems, written around age 15 when we were living with my grandfather within walking distance of the Nashville fairgrounds. I believe the Ferris wheel only operated during the state fair. So my “educated guess” is that this poem was written during the 1973 state fair, or shortly thereafter. I remember watching people hanging suspended in mid-air, waiting for carnies to deposit them safely on terra firma again. Keywords/Tags: state, fair, carnival, carnies, Ferris, wheel, teeters, teetering, up, down, summer, fall, leaves, falling, time
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 2:07 AM UTC
Yesterday I found my heart teetering
on the tops of your fingertips.
I was attempting to walk across a tight rope
from my chest to yours without falling.
Ev'ry word you spoke was a gust of wind
pulling me closer to falling and I spoke
my own words to stabilize my legs.
But I knew the tragedy of one slip,
If I said something too strongly or
or I didn't listen well enough,
stumbling off the rope was inevitable;
whether I hit an unknown bottom
or kept falling down the rabbit hole
the result would be the same.
My heart, broken on impact,
the force of gravity tenfold
because the value of my love for you
is everything times ten to the tenth power.
I cannot really fathom a shattered heart right now,
but I'd imagine its something like--
Humpty Dumpty on steroids falling
from the moon instead because someone
accidentally mixed up the two children stories.
Humpty Dumpty jumped over the moon
and shattered every piece of himself on the way down.
For the kings men would never find him again
And I would never be able
to put the pieces back together.
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 2:22 PM UTC
Two withered paths, a corded brow, a face rigged in string.
Each subsequent step away from the decision –
Just met –
Draws this string ever tighter
Its tension rigging the two paths;
Options that will last,
Into this sort of equilibrium.
For the crossroads –
Just left –
To peter down the path
Of which he is unsure if his decision was one
That could be respected,
A sort of pride remained behind
Dragging him back, down the path
Which he just passed
A decision regretted
To bring him to the start which he, oh so hated
Why did he repeat these wonderings
With no meanings?
What brung him back –
time and time again –
To that same track?
He teeters on the edge of one path,
Then falls into the other
Only, to his dismay,
To be pulled back on strings – traps –
That rip him back to those same crossroads
Will he ever learn his lesson?
Or is his lesson learnt?
The man who swings on ropes of fate
between one decision
and another.
Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 12:50 PM UTC