"carnivals" poems
575
“Heaven” has different Signs—to me—
Sometimes, I think that Noon
Is but a symbol of the Place—
And when again, at Dawn,
A mighty look runs round the World
And settles in the Hills—
An Awe if it should be like that
Upon the Ignorance steals—
The Orchard, when the Sun is on—
The Triumph of the Birds
When they together Victory make—
Some Carnivals of Clouds—
The Rapture of a finished Day—
Returning to the West—
All these—remind us of the place
That Men call “paradise”—
Itself be fairer—we suppose—
But how Ourself, shall be
Adorned, for a Superior Grace—
Not yet, our eyes can see—
7.5k
The boy sat beneath the grey gum,
listening to the magpie crooning,
somewhere far above his head.
He watched as the figure approached,
an old man stumbling down a dirt track.
"Yer back than." said the boy, standing.
"Yeah." Replied the man, "I'm back."
The boy sat down again "Yer staying?"
"I should never have left you,
I realise that now." The man replied.
"Was it fun where you went?" asked the boy,
"No, it was miserable." said the man,
"It could never be fun without you.
Have you been to the tree house lately?"
"Not since you left," said the boy.
"I've just been sitting here waiting,
for you to take me to the carnival,
where we could eat candy floss
and hot dogs to our bellies ached."
"I should have taken you with me,
I've missed the carnivals and candy floss."
The man said his eyes filling with tears.
"Is the tyre still hanging over the water hole?"
"Of cause it is," said the boy, "you want to go there?"
"Oh yes!" Cried the man "I want to go there.
More than anything I want to go there!"
The boy stood up and took his hand,
and together they walked across the pond.
03/03/2010
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 1:49 AM UTC
I love Australia it looks fine to me mate
You see Australia is very cool
There are a lot of fun things to do here
You can go down to Sydney"s beaches
Like Bondi, Manly or even Coogee
You can see if you can run faster
Than the best at city 2 surf
It puts Sydney on the Australian map
And we also have our great sporting games
Like cricket, tennis, AFL and the two rugby codes
If you go to the USA, you'll see so many parades
They have for christmas
While we just have one main parade
Which is from Adelaide, and that is really good
You get at glimpse of the past with come on Aussie come on
Sydney started a great Santa race, where you run
A marathon dressed in a Santa suit
And it was brought to Canberra
And it was very successful too
There are two televised Christmas carols
From Sydney's domain and Melbourne's Meyer music bowl
Yes, if you see the great ocean road and then have a look
At the grampians, you will have a great time
And there are some great surf carnivals on various beaches here
Showing that footy and cricket, is not all we have
We love to drink, sometimes too much
But we are out to have a good time
A ball, we are ready to party this Australia day
Australian sons, oh let us rejoice
But we need to include women too
Australians all let us rejoice
With Tony Abbott wanting to destroy us
AS OUR BELOVED PRIME MINISTER OH YEAH A HEAP
We are aussie through and through
So when we go our on Australa day
We watch the fireworks, yes we are having a big ball of fun
In the country of Australia
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 5:55 PM UTC
With worthless words
In his throat
And on his tongue
He sits a thousand miles across
Through earth’s hard calluses atop bent-knuckle mountains
And soft, golden hair growing in the soil
Through lakes full with tears
And forests filled with hands and fingers...
He sits a hundred blinks of the sun
And watches drive-in theaters disappear
Along with the ferris wheels
Spinning into nothing
Dances going mute
Bodies moving soundlessly through the air
He watches lights go out in carnivals
And hands letting go
THE SUN BLINKS
With worthless words
In his throat
And on his tongue
He stands and shuffles
Through undefined shapes of colour
A brilliant array of blurred blues
And greens
And yellows
They move so
Fast
Through his eyes
THE SUN BLINKS
With worthless words
In his throat
And on his tongue
He sits
Through the drone of voices in his ears
And nods
To mask his heart
And smiles
To mask the obvious
Pull
On his soul
Dragging it down
Trying to keep it from being pulled
Out
Through the soles of his feet
A mask on his face
To hide the struggle
To keep it from
Slipping
Away
THE SUN BLINKS
With worthless words
In his throat
And on his tongue
He writes with his thumbs
Words he hopes
Can be felt
Like winds that whisper love
Through ears
And cold water
That reaches through
Skin and freezes bone
And the words return
Like rivers do
Sometimes
Missing
A few drops of water
Sometimes
A little less happy
And a little more
Tainted
With sad things
Like broke down carnivals
And quiet dances...
Ferris wheels that stop turning
And drive in theaters that stop playing movies
It becomes a little more polluted
With sad things
Like closed curtains over the sunset
Through the window
And tea that goes cold
A little more
And a little more
Until the words that return
Like rivers do
Are missing
More drops of water
And
They
Dry
Until
No
Water
Runs
Down
The
River
THE SUN BLINKS
With worthless words
In his throat
And on his tongue
He sits with lips closed
Under the mask of a smile
A mask of calmness over the worry
In his heart
Sadness masked by happiness
Tears masked by laughter
Fears masked by confidence
A mask
For every
Emotion
That his brain triggers
Except one
Because to him
No mask can cover
What she makes him feel
Such pure
Perfection
When she
Holds
His
Hand
THE SUN BLINKS
And no words come to his tongue
Or pass his lips
Silence, masked
Nov 19, 2010
Nov 19, 2010 at 1:56 AM UTC
they're the worst, and i mean that literally
imagine this, imagine that
everything that terrifies you, from any age that you've been
from the things that barely ***** you to the things that you are deathly afraid of
under one tent, an old worn down halloween coloured carny tent, filled with broken down rides and fallen apart structures and lit only by the moon
all with one intent, all of them working together to reach one goal
to get you, and have their way with you
and you can't fight back, every time you try to, they just get stronger
so you do the one thing you can do at this point
you run
you run faster then you ever have before, and none of this weird *** dream running where you move slowly when you're trying to run
i mean full out sprinting
you run and try to escape
but there's no way out, the holed purple and orange walls of the tent flap in the wind but when you go to touch them, they fill and turn solid
solid concrete below three inches of dirt, and you can't see anything to climb
you run and try to hide
the lesser terrors might try to help you.
trying to convince you that this place is safe, or to let them lead the others off of your trail
but they never tell the truth, they only do one thing
they help the greater terrors find you
so you refuse their help, shooing them away, and you survive for a bit longer
but its always the same, in the end, no matter what you try, every time it ends the same way
they find you, hiding on top of one of the structures, in a little cave, somewhere in one of the rides
and you're tortured
you're tortured worse than you ever thought that a being would do
sometimes your tongue is split into thirds from side to side, and is then cut from front to back
sometimes your limbs and body are twisted and contorted into strange shapes, making you into human art
you foolishly believed that these things might have a heart and not make it as slow and painful as they could
well you're right for the first bit, they do have a heart of sorts
after they're done playing with you
after they're done toying with your body
they don't just let you be, leave you where you are to stay there in agony
no, they **** you
nothing extra, nothing complex
just a stab through the heart, a ripping off of the head, and you're gone
unless they're being crueler
at which point, you have the option of fighting back
or letting them **** you in a gruesome way, hanging you from a rope over an open tank of water with lots of hungry creatures eagerly awaiting your fall
at least, that's what you think they do, you're never asleep long enough to find out
and that's why youre glad that they've only now begun to come and get you while you're awake
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
when i see you
i am transported to a summer carnival.
and you are the ferris wheel.
you lift me up and take me to new heights.
but you drop me eventually.
you always drop me.
but maybe the drop is worth it because
I get to be lifted by you.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 1:15 AM UTC
You aren't big ****
'till you're on a stick,
not even legitimate
like gator, hotdogs, sausage and chicken.
A stick gets your mouth waterin'
and your tongue lickin'
you can get your veggies on a shish-kabob
and cotton candy handed to you at any sport
or circus,
we even got religious services about servin'
this person on a stick!
Wanna be famous? Get your wish
and put somethin' on a stick--
the get rich quick types stick 'em up their ***
while the rest of us gather
at fairs and carnivals to mindlessly laugh
at jugglers, clowns and ride circular rides.
All the while snackin' on somethin' on a stick.
Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 4:22 PM UTC
Little one,
try not to be
so broken.
Save a shuddering
breath or two,
you've already spoken.
Little one,
emotions,
energy
is spent,
vent,
vent now little one,
cry on my collarbone.
Nerves and naves
may fail you
but I will never leave you alone.
I need red.
Give me purple,
fuchsia, and maroon.
All of the colors that sear your insides;
carnivals come too soon.
Little one,
let it out,
just
save me some.
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 7:09 PM UTC
To everyone else who used it to seal a present,
It was nothing more than
A color to choose
A length to measure
A string to knot
It was something that held together a treasure
But to her, a ribbon was so much more
The triangular slit
She herself had cut at the edge
Of the soft pink ribbon,
Ended in corners,
The way her smile did
Everytime she'd
Loop and pull
Loop and pull
The bows she'd craft
Were more to her
Than just bunny ears and tails.
They were trinkets of triumph
Hints of hope
Possessions of passion
They reminded her of spring
Not the season
But spring
Of the trampoline
In her first gymnastics competition.
The ribbon hugged her ponytail
Delicate and dainty
The ribbon lay around her neck holding
Gold
Silver
Bronze
Ribbon nonetheless
They reminded her of balloons
Not the hot air type.
Balloons at carnivals
That floated
Miles away
Heights astray
If there was not ribbon
To secure it tight
On her fragile wrist
They reminded her of father.
Not that he wore ribbons or anything.
But that he left her with one
Wrapped around
A freshly picked
Bundle of flowers
Bundle of happiness
Bundle of unspoken words of affirmation
But flowers die
And so did father
When they did,
She was left with nothing but the ribbon
Loose and dirtied.
But the pinkness
Unlike flowers and father,
Barely faded away
And for the first time in a long time,
She saw life
In something that didn't have any.
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 1:59 PM UTC
The sky is pink with the sunset and,
The clouds look like cotton candy.
I want to eat popcorn at carnivals,
or spend all day by riverbanks soaking up the atmosphere.
The air is tinged with sun tan lotion, freshly mowed grass and,
the laughter of children playing in puddles
left over from afternoon showers.
The breeze is thick and warm, flowing through the skirts of lovers
And kissing bare shoulders.
Daisies and dandelions tilt their faces towards the sun,
Proudly pretending they each deserve to be picked and
braided into chains, adorning necks and hair.
Little girls dressed in sunshine
dance in the evening glow, as
little boys catch fireflies in an attempt to captivate and impress.
I hold my breath as the sun dips below the horizon and,
sets the sky on fire one last time.
I could swear time stops
As everything transforms into silhouettes of what they were.
The clouds give way to a million stars, that still can't shine
as bright as your eyes.
The whole world tucks itself away, but not us.
We lounge in the cool grass and breathe in the moment when
all I can feel is your hand in mine, and
the earth still coming alive with summertime.
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 9:54 PM UTC
I love Australia it looks fine to me mate
You see Australia is very cool
There are a lot of fun things to do here
You can go down to Sydney"s beaches
Like Bondi, Manly or even Coogee
You can see if you can run faster
Than the best at city 2 surf
It puts Sydney on the Australian map
And we also have our great sporting games
Like cricket, tennis, AFL and the two rugby codes
If you go to the USA, you'll see so many parades
They have for christmas
While we just have one main parade
Which is from Adelaide, and that is really good
You get at glimpse of the past with come on Aussie come on
Sydney started a great Santa race, where you run
A marathon dressed in a Santa suit
And it was brought to Canberra
And it was very successful too
There are two televised Christmas carols
From Sydney's domain and Melbourne's Meyer music bowl
Yes, if you see the great ocean road and then have a look
At the grampians, you will have a great time
And there are some great surf carnivals on various beaches here
Showing that footy and cricket, is not all we have
We love to drink, sometimes too much
But we are out to have a good time
A ball, we are ready to party this Australia day
Australian sons, oh let us rejoice
But we need to include women too
Australians all let us rejoice
With Tony Abbott wanting to destroy us
TOO BAD JULIA AND KEVIN WEREN’T ANY MATCH BUT
We are aussie through and through
So when we go our on Australa day
We watch the fireworks, yes we are having a big ball of fun
In the country of Australia
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 2:45 AM UTC
Up, down, all around,
Twirling, whirling, blurs of sound,
Din of colours, clashing loud,
Speed rushing,
Time pulling,
Air flowing,
Gliding upwards,
Sky so blue,
Flying downwards,
See you soon,
Laughter floating all around,
Scents dancing home from town,
Pink clouds sold on sticks,
Enchanted by magic tricks,
Music falling to the ground,
Happiness all around.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 2:14 AM UTC
postulate carnivals festivities ferris wheels unicorns
tooting horns laughs squeals of carnivorous
joviality held breath heights scary games of chance
winning all today
it is our day
to populate reality
with
fairy tales or obliviate insanity send notice
from highs cry together deny no more the obvious
sobriety holding in that hit wary of getting caught
losing it all
so say with me
I believe
in fairy tales
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 4:27 AM UTC
The body was quickly covered by a black sheet, but Tommy had still seen it, and the image seemed to stick to his eyes like a melted Popsicle. He did not feel sad, or angry, or even curious – Tommy felt nothing at all except wonder at the fact that you could exist one moment, and not the next.
“Hey there,” said the tall man in blue. He wore a badge on his shirt that said ‘police’.
“Hi,” said Tommy, nervously looking up at the man. He felt as though he should not have been looking at the body, as though it were forbidden.
“What’s your name, son?”
“My name is Tommy and I live down the street,” he said, the words spilling out of his mouth. He felt that he needed to explain himself. “I was just riding my bike when...”
“Did you see what was under that tarp?” the man asked, pointing at the blanket. The body had since disappeared, but Tommy knew that the body had just been taken away so others wouldn’t see. Tommy didn’t respond, but the officer nodded.
“Do you want to see something cool?” said the policeman, and Tommy nodded once more.
The policeman walked over to his car and dipped inside, ducking his head under the ledge of the door frame. He looked at Tommy and smiled, clicked a few buttons, and then suddenly there were bright colours, not unlike the colours Tommy had seen at carnivals.
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 10:37 AM UTC
Favorites, Reposts, Comments:
Currency of the cacophonous conumdrum carried onward in carnivals of catatonic cherubims trading virtual cadence for confidence and compliments.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 4:00 AM UTC
I like people who don't
trust people
Like a locked bathroom door
Protected from their own
Self exposure
But I just want to develop them
in black & white
Sell their silhouettes on the black market
Seeing what they're really worth
These are the people
with lures hanging from their teeth
like wind chimes or dreamcatchers
Bodies of abandoned carnivals
And people become like trespassers
On their unholy grounds
Here to document
the decay
Caress the chipping paint
Hoping for tetanus
They wonder when they became
Archeology
Like the lost part of found
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
_my stange addiction - Billie Eilish_
No, Billie, I haven't done that dance since my wife died
There's a whole crowd of people out there who need to learn how to do the Scarn
Don't ask questions you don't wanna know
Learned my lesson way too long ago
To be talking to you, belladonna
Shoulda taken a break, not an oxford comma
Take what I want when I wanna
And I want ya
Bad, bad news
One of us is gonna lose
I'm the powder, you're the fuse
Just add some friction
You are my strange addiction
You are my strange addiction
My doctors can't explain
My symptoms or my pain
But you are my strange addiction
I'm really, really sorry
I think I was just relieved to see that Michael Scarn got his confidence back
Yeah, Michael, that movie is amazing
It's like, one of the best movies I've ever seen in my life
Deadly fever, please don't ever break
Be my reliever 'cause I don't self medicate
And it burns like a gin and I like it
Put your lips on my skin and you might ignite it
Hurts, but I know how to hide it, kinda like it
Bad, bad news
One of us is gonna lose
I'm the powder, you're the fuse
Just add some friction
You are my strange addiction
You are my strange addiction
My doctors can't explain
My symptoms or my pain
But you are my strange addiction
Bite my glass, set myself on fire
Can't you tell I'm crass?
Can't you tell I'm wired?
Tell me "Nothing lasts"
Like I don't know
You could kiss my as-king about my motto
You should enter it in festivals
Or carnivals
Thoughts?
Pretty good reaction
Pretty cool, right?
You are my strange addiction
You are my strange addiction
My doctors can't explain
My symptoms or my pain
But you are my strange addiction
Did you like it? Did you like that?
Um, which part?
Feb 16, 2020
Feb 16, 2020 at 11:01 AM UTC
I wrote this a few months ago on a flight across the country. Not my best, but it healed me a bit
Thinking about you doesn't get any easier and even at 30,000 feet in the air the feeling you left with me somehow manages to suffocate me, through twenty different layers of clouds and pressurized cabins. The lady sitting next to me has a sad look in her eyes. Maybe she is suffering through some kind of heartbreak herself, just like me. She orders her coffee black. I want to reach out to her and hold her hand, but it's probably too cold, and she might **** away from my touch, the same way you did that day when you left. She smells like cheap perfume and the lies of lovers she has tried too hard to forget.
I wonder about jumping right out this plane right now. I wonder if I'd land with a splat and if a nice young man would arrive with a broom and pan, sweep me up, and discard me into the nearest trash can, like they do in the carnivals. Would I regret it the moment my feet left the edge of the plane? Would I get the same feeling in my stomach on the way down as I did when we were together? I think I'd only jump if I were holding your hand.
I wrote “I miss you” in a too big sharpie across the front of my notebook on Tuesday. Colored it in blue because there’s not enough green to feel much else when you're not around. Two hours to go and my entire life is falling down around me. (Leave me be leave me be leave me be.) I want to be the space that water fills between your toes and hidden among the things that keeps your rusty heart beating. But I can't be the oil that makes your wheels keep spinning. At best I'm the hot hot steam that keeps your hands from burning and bleeding. You don't want me and you never fell in love with me. You fell in love with words I learned to recite and looks I knew when to give and this carcinogenic smile.
Apologies don't sound as true as they should and I never really say what I mean. I'm just as ****** up as you. And these are words carved into walls of abandoned asylums and painted on canvases with blood in lieu of paint and this is the only way I know how to say that I know what you're going through and what you've been through and how sorry I am that I can't be everything you expected of me.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 12:02 AM UTC
We don't say "I love you" anymore
The sentiment buried deep
Seldom considered
Never discussed
A declaration that swims
With memories
Sinks with exhaustion
Hardens with repetition
Deep in the recesses of our souls
The fear of it's loss
Is the proof of it's existence
Throughout it's evolution
How painful to let go of what it once was
How difficult to grasp what it has become
How dreadful to consider what it may turn into
Sublimated, as it is
Fighting gravity to escape the ocean floor
This love awaits resurrection
The renewal of senses dumbed down
"I love you" takes it's rightful place
Beyond the realm of intelligence
Into the dumb bliss of Spirit
To mingle with childhood dreams
Memories of carnivals and candy
Moms and Dads
To pick up after us
Teaching, alas, by example
Wide-eyed wonder for alien species
Dogs and cats and turtles and frogs
Butterflies and bees, lightning bugs and praying mantis
We marvel at it's devotion and wonder
What is he praying for? Who is he praying for?
More likely we marveled at how green he was
Days when we knew love without knowing it's name
Before we knew what it was
A given
Yes, a Given
Waiting for the day when it would be
Taken for granted
Yes, Taken
The words have become useless to us
Offered and received so many times
Put them to rest
Hope for the best
Jan 6, 2011
Jan 6, 2011 at 6:50 AM UTC
it's always fun at carnivals.
pretty lights, cotton candy, fun games
it's a fountain of youth for everyone.
until
the lights shut down.
the cotton candy rots.
the games are already playing you.
and it gets worse.
the dark, cloudy sky chases you.
kids start crying all over the place.
rain is pouring down the carousel.
the carousel? The Carousel?
The Carousel, where you thought would be the safest ride.
where you carefully placed the secrets of your world.
where you wistfully pointed out your dreams.
where you stayed without feeling dizzy
when all you did was to go round and round and round
round and round
until
you started to get tired.
you saw the horses are not the real horses you always dreamed of riding.
you heard the music isn't pleasing anymore.
you heard cracks and gears being dislocated.
you can't see anything anymore.
your secrets have escaped instead of you.
you tried to escape this demeaning makeshift world of yours but to no luck.
you've seen the whole carnival now.
dreary, miserable, lonely.
the once colorful tents were now drenched in sorrowful monochrome.
mirrors are placed all over the gaming booths.
broken lights.
sad, sad music.
you thought The Carousel was the carnival itself.
i thought The Carousel was the carnival itself.
i made the greatest mistake of not tasting the cotton candy, not feeling the sun on my skin.
have the horses tricked me?
i've seen the whole carnival now.
it's not what it is years ago.
the gates are closed.
it's always fun at carnivals.
the fun never stops.
dim lights, rotten food, mind games.
everyone's favorite choice is escape.
i tried to.
i'm still trying to.
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 10:59 AM UTC
graham ******* mud pie at pop's,
rest his soul
the rush of new friendships,
the faith in letting go
reading when you’re lonely,
chillin' while you’re old,
rivers in the blinding heat,
campfires in the cold
car rides with the windows down,
jogging with the pooch,
biking through a foreign town,
stealing a native smooch
gum drops,
lemon heads,
marshmallow peeps,
sunday dinner,
carnivals,
local meet-and-greets
snow days,
warm winter days,
soup to ward the flu,
paydays,
big-puppy days,
and coming home to you
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 6:44 PM UTC
the day races to extinction
and as the shadows dominate
the last few warm rays
become lambent on the abnormal insight
that has grown within me as
the day has grown long
she had no face
she had no presence in the air
no name or written word to leave behind
yet here she is
a mere ghost image between the dark sheets
of the rainstorm
as she has for may years
just watching silently
the scratching noises of the pen in my hand
replaces the wind-song of summer day with harsh tones
yet it brings my thoughts to distant woodland lake
that was my escape from the years that i spent in the
company of the lesser misbegotten
that lake and the my time there
was unchanged and seems remote in my vision
from the turmoil of my winterbound soul
plundering my forward motion for the energy to cope
with the passing thoughts like carnivals of flesh
obscene visions of naked truth
unrestrained by years of devoted hiding
i am unable to grasp any other path
than to become like her
a shadow obscured in the
in the rainstorm
a fleeting vision
in the passing hours
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 4:05 AM UTC
Maybe it was something I did. Something I said. Something that could've been avoided, maybe not.
I could've waited, stalled a little longer, but I couldn't hold back the words that changed you.
They tried to tell me how crazy I was, chasing after a carnie. But I was stupid enough not to listen.
They tried to tell me that I was just gonna end up crying with a broken heart, and I was rebellious enough to ignore it.
So now you'll go on with your life, leaving me behind.
And I'll regret the words I spoke too soon for the rest of my life.
You'll continue to be the wonderful carnie you are.
And I'll keep being the reckless little girl who fell in love with a carnie and never looked back.
We'll part ways as strangers who were once lovers, and you'll reminisce on the times we spent together.
I'll go become a chef, or a waitress, and hope you'll come into my restaurant and sweep me off my feet, just like that summer of pure happiness and freedom.
Girls will crawl backwards to be with you, but you'll know in your heart that none of them will ever be me, and I'll be tripping myself up trying to get over you.
You'll meet celebrities and singers and all sorts of beautiful women.
I'll earn a big time gig with a chef from Miami, or some big city, and move away, forgetting about you.
And you'll realize that the girl you left crying in the dirt was the girl you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, and I'll look back at the pictures, remembering the carnie that I was stupid enough to fall for.
You'll come searching for me, while working your many carnivals, with your heart of steel on your sleeve.
We'll run into each other somewhere down the road, an awkward run-in, but an unforgettable one.
I'll remember how much I loved you and run right back into your arms, forgetting the life I had just built for myself.
But that is just a daydream of a helpless girl who just had her young fragile heart broken by the restless carnie who was bad enough to steal it from her.
And so for now, we forgive and forget, cherishing the summer of love, the summer of swiftness, and the summer of absolute certainty.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 2:27 PM UTC