~ Ode to Joy ~

White gold ambassador
canine past eight
soul seekers ascend
(from cirque to seven)
to peak
to peak
to peak

Saddlerock spearhead
ptarmigan
and flute
Christmas trees
in winter glades
over dusted crystal scape

Fissile (eiger) sanction
open shale and tusk
indiscriminate members
roll the bluffs
and ice falls
above the
north face steep

Dead silent dawn
breathless, bitter cold
the beating hearts
and brahmas
warm the spirit
of pakalolo

Sentenced to the hygienist, because I got that Indian virus.
Wish I was more like Leonidas, for my warrior self was vanquished.
Got a sense of anguish, as I don’t even know my own people’s Language.
Why did I get banished from my own land, and these immigrants now hold thee advantage?
Feels like they on a witch hunt, ain’t life a ***** huh?  
Can’t even make a quick buck, because I’m seen as a stupid ****.
Feel like a sitting duck with the ****** locked, **** is this the feeling of a cuck?
Stories always end up sad but Afterall I’m just the ******* of the brady bunch!
Brown skin cursed kin and a desperate sin so I gotta eat outta garbage’s for lunch.
Trying not to use victimization as a crutch,
but it’s like I’m a kid who got tricked into a game of double Dutch.
Crazy braided brain, deranged rabid rabbit spewing train going down a road of pain.
Come on yawl don’t you want to see the freak from cirque de soleil?
Trying in vain to wash away my shame, but the colour of my skin just won’t go away, oh what a shame!
So, I’m left crying and thinking about dying, hoping to be anything…
that may stray away from my family name.
For I’ve realized that I’m stigmatized by the whitened eyes:
that be educating lies of me being the one to blame.

No more will I be ok with this forced recital!
No more will I sit idle!
No more patriarchy, and **** the curse of ham nonsense used to justify you being spiteful!
**** your racist sentiments man, my colour doesn’t make me homicidal.

Brown clown, Down syndrome gnome!
Torn men, torn women left in prison zones!
Burn them, **** them, **** them right in they home!
Don’t frown, don’t make a sound, just stay on the ground.
Hands behind heads, then shot with lead, like a dog from the pound!
Lost and never found, but this just the curse of being brown!
What’s this now?
Nothing but wards of the crown.
Just a *****, just a glitch, that live in some crack towns!
Or reserves doesn’t matter what the word
Or what the place is when one puts on war paint on top of their savage faces.
Here’s the thing *****, I’m not scared of staring ya down #okacrisis!
For as see it colonists are no different than isis.
I know we deal with vices,
But it’s just the effects of dealing with your hepatitis!
And I just might be bias,
But at least I’m not a delusional racist!
It doesn’t matter if it’s Past, present or future violence,
I think it’s about time to end the silence!

(This poem doesn't belong to me. The rightful owner is the author Darren Shan who wrote the Demonata and the Cirque du Freak book series. This poem is from his first book of the Demonata book series: Lord Loss.)

Lord loss sows all the sorrows of the world, lord loss seeds the grief starched trees

In the center  of the web lowly lord loss bows his head

Mangled hands, naked eyes
Fanged snakes his soul line
Curled inside like texture sin
****** curdle sheets for skin

In the center of the web vile lord loss torments the dead
Over strands of red, lord loss crawls
Dispensing pain, despising all
Shuns friends, nurtures foes
Ravages hope, breeds woe
Drinks moons, devours suns
Twirls his thumbs till the reaper comes

In the center of the web Lush Lord Loss is all that is left.

Night Circus

A black tent stands in front of you
red flags, chilling wind
welcome to my night circus
you found my red curtain door
I’ve been waiting for you
so step right in

Put this mask on, bizarre but
soon it’ll be clear
there are no faces,
no faces,
no faces down here,
No faces no light,
your mind misty, unclear,
and you don’t know it yet
but you need to be here

I hear whispers in your head
they are sounding
your heart’s beat in your ears
it’s pounding
warped mirrors, evil seen
is your reflection shattering
the person you knew
is gone, curtains drawn
my wicked dream
it’s magnetic, riveting,
astounding

Cold blood will course through your veins
look away
but all around you, look, see
you’ll reel from their stains
you say you’ll leave
but where
how did you lose the way
you came here, you entered
there’s a price you’ll pay
there are no refunds
no second chances
..and oh the games
we will play

You knew it hurt, but went back
every time
through a once white skin door
until your own skin matched mine
the colors of pain,
my black, red decor
until now
you’ve always asked to endure,
to taste just one more
you did this to yourself
bought the ticket
now settle your score

Bring the reflection of yourself
behind your mask in the crowd
my curtain’s pulled back for you
step through
not a sound

No one here will see you
cry as before
no one here will silence you
or muzzle your roar
as you end the life
of the person you knew
of the self that was you
who you were before

So welcome to the show
you arrived just on time
The Rules
don’t lie, don’t touch,
and don’t waste my time
You came to my circus
my tent,
you entered my mind
now you’ll hear and you’ll suffer
the ringleader’s rhyme

You feel strange down here,
yes, at first
thinking you’re alone
Ha ha guess again
check the stands
every second
look and see how they’ve grown
faces you can’t see
but there’s an army within
wondering
why did they come
you see, there’s few ways out
endless ways in
held by nothing but curtain
in this place created by pen

I hold a lighter
to this cigarette and
I can show you the way
you've found my hell, child
so come take my hand
fangs glistening, lets watch,
watch your own show begin

Join the legion here,
seeking belonging, refuge
lost and alone, savages
behind masks
here we all are people
monsters
creatures like you
but this is your trail
you’ll see it through to completion
don’t fall to the side
perhaps you can grant to me,
grant an end to my own story
my own obsoletion

I live this circus
every act, done them all
the show of the ******
my kingdom written
in red, every seat
in black, every wall
this is my world  
my guest
you're welcome to know
a little about me
take in the sights
with my ember in darkness
the hope I have
as you go

I was born here
somehow caught and strung up,
the first exhibit
the freak show,
a forcibly twisted, stiff contortionist,
a broken puppet's
head hung low,
clowns hammer to the head
that drum-roll cadence you hear
thumping, ringing,
a bearded lady singing
my art's crescendo,
each act slowly, chipping away
each step bringing us, closer, today
I’m the no-net trapeze artist
who wildly swings
while mad jugglers toss
swords across delicate strings,
the magician who saws
his woman in half,
the strong man crushed
beneath the weight on his back,
the tamer pray to his lions
bones not whips crack,
the disfigured clown who hopelessly fails
every attempt to make you laugh,
I'm the fire-breather choking
hearing cheers for his burn,
the acrobats diving into a cement empty pool
each gracefully standing waiting their turn
I was the tigers
who brought
the elephant down
and the helpless escape artist
chained, humiliated,
destined to drown
And now here I stand
your host
Ringleader
your showman
maitre d'
you're welcome to join
mais j'espere, tu ne reviens jamais
jusqu'au port de mon coeur
Le Cirque de la Nuit

-A bow without applause-

You’ve hosted your show
feel free to do more
but this tent will be bigger
each time you perform
I belong, some are trapped here
but you, you are not
the choice is still yours
so when you decide
you are free
to the world
I’ll release you
but let you be warned
wherever you go
the key you carry within
your night circus
your shadow behind you
is waiting
hungry
I plead
..don’t fall back in

[Intro: John Legend]
Let's play the blame game, I love you, more
Let's play the blame game for sure
Let's call out names, names, I hate you, more
Let's call out names, names, for sure
I'll call you ***** for short
As a last resort, and my first result
You call me ******* for long
At the end of it you know we both were wrong

[Hook: John Legend]
But I love to play the blame game, I love you more
Let's play the blame game for sure
Let's call her names, names, I hate you, more
Let's call her names, names, for sure

[Verse 1: Kanye West]
On a bathroom wall I wrote
"I'd rather argue with you than be with someone else"
I took a **** and dismiss it like "**** it"
And I went and found somebody else
**** arguing and harvesting the feelings
Yo, I'd rather be by my ******* self
Till about two a.m. and I call back
And I hang up and I start to blame myself
Somebody help...

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Kanye West]
You weren't perfect but you made life worth it
Stick around, some real feelings might surface
Been a long time since I spoke to you in a bathroom
Gripping you up, ******* and choking you
What the hell was I supposed to do?
I know you ain't getting this type of **** from that local dude
And if you are I hope you are having a good time
Cause I definitely be having mine
And you ain't finna see a mogul get emotional
Every time I hear bout other ****** is strokin' you
Lying, say I hit you, he sitting there consoling you
Running my name through the mud, who's provoking you?
You should be grateful a ***** like me ever noticed you
Now you noticeable and can't nobody get control of you
One a.m. and can't nobody get a hold of you
I'm calling your brother's phone like what was I supposed to do?
Even though I knew, he never told the truth
He was just gon' say whatever that you told him to
At a certain point I had to stop asking questions
Y'all got dirt on each other like mud wrestlers
I heard he bought some coke with my money
That ain't right girl
You getting blackmailed for that white girl
You always said Yeezy I ain't your right girl
You'll probably find one of them "I like art"-type girls
All of the lights, she-was-caught-in-the-hype girl
And I was satisfied being in love with the lie
Now who to blame, you to blame, me to blame
For the pain and it poured every time when it rained
Lets play the blame game

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Kanye West]
"Things used to be, now they not
Anything but us is who we are
Disguising ourselves as secret lovers
We've become public enemies
We walk away like strangers in the street
Gone for eternity
We erased one another
So far from where we came
With so much of everything, how do we leave with nothing?
Lack of visual empathy equates the meaning of L-O-V-E
Hatred and attitude tear us entirely" - Chloe Mitchell

[Hook x2: Kanye West]
I can't love you this much
No, I can't love you this much

[Verse 4: Kanye West]
And I know that you are somewhere doing your thing
And when the phone called it just ring and ring
You ain't pick up but your phone accidentally called me back
And I heard the whole thing
I heard the whole thing, the whole thing, the whole thing

["The Best Birthday": Chris Rock]
Ohh my God
Baby you done took this **** to another mother ******* level!
Now a neighborhood ***** like me
Ain't supposed to be gettin no ***** like this
*******, *******!
Who taught you how to get **** for a *****?
(Yeezy taught me)
You never used to talk *****, but now you ******* disgusting
My, my God, where'd you learn that?
(Yeezy taught me)
Look at you mother ******* **** *** naked...
With them mother ******* Jimmy Choos on
Who taught you how to put some Jimmy Choos on?
(Yeezy taught me)
Yo you took your ***** game up a whole 'nother level
This is some Cirque du Soleil ***** now! ****!
You done went all ***** on a *****, okay? And I, and I love it...
And I thank you, I thank you, my **** thanks you!
How did you learn, how... how did your ***** game come up?
(Yeezy taught me)
I was ******* parts of your ***** I'd never ****** before
I was in there like oh **** I never been here before
I've never even seen this part of ***** town before
It's like you got this **** re-upholstered or some ****
What the **** happened?
Who, who the **** got your ***** all re-upholstered?
(Yeezy re-upholstered my *****)
You know what, I got to thank Yeezy
And when I see that *****, I'm-a thank him. I'm-a buy his album
I'm-a download that ******* I'm-a shoot a bootlegger!
That's how good I feel about this *****
Oww, I still can't believe you got me this watch
This ******* is the exact ******* I wanted!
Even with the bezel! This is the ******* I wanted
I saw this ****, I saw it, Twista had this **** on in The Source
I remember, Twista had this ******* on in The Source
That's right, that's right! Yo yo babe, yo yo this is the best birthday ever!
Where you learn to treat a ***** like this?
(Yeezy taught me)
Yeezy taught you well, Yeezy taught you well

I had forgotten the way to the hut that I had traveled to so many times,
so many days. So many moons, I would say. But no one marks moons anymore, except hunters. And I am not one of them. Nor a gatherer.
I listen to old men tell how they felled the stags. I do not believe them.

I am a wayfarer, to use the archaic words I used to love, the words
I had forgotten, the words of time in eternity, the words of orange leaves
on towering pin oaks, the words of circles of shadows settling on Gavarnie, of snowfall in the Pyrénées. Sever Spain from the Continent.

I had lost the language of the *****, spray-painted sheep scampering
over gray-bouldered cirques on mountaintops, boulders turning into mountains in the shadows, in the fog, in drifts of snow. There are no words for this now. Bleating sheep drown them out, and yapping dogs.

There are no words for the radiance of transcendence. “Climb higher,”
I hear them say. Higher into the haze of clouds. Cirque: circle, circus. Acrobatics on hillsides, balancing acts on rockslides, skimming streams in hard-toed boots. I had forgotten the way to the words, far behind me.

I have come to a gate, a steep stile in shadow. No sheep can pass. Nothing looks familiar; nothing looks strange. I saunter in a cloud
of unknowing. I had known the words: worn, smooth as stone unscuffed by hard-toed boots, slick as snowmelt. Slide from France into Spain.

This is the path of Santiago de Compostela, the route of St. James, who said, “Do not be double-minded, brethren.” I cannot remember if I have been double-minded in my travels. I had forgotten the way. If the words do not come, which mind sees the threshold; which mind circles the fog?

What passes, what begins when we travel? I do not look backward.
The way lies ahead, waiting, wandering away from the words. Splotches
of lichen sprout orange and green. “Go no higher for safety.” No higher.
They do not mention exile or ecstasy or the straight path of radiance.

The cirque circles my words in mountain shadows. I must unlearn
the art of travel, adrift in broken fields of stone. I had forgotten the way to the hut. Rocks obscure the path. Light ensures the path leads upward. Nothing is lost. Words hold their weight. Stags dance above me in fog.

Evening shimmers wet with Autumn rain
It's sheen reflectors, mirrors, eyes

Of cavorting shadows amongst the fey
Like city tinsil this Samhain night,

Oh how lovely colors celebrate
With ghostly kin & youthful lights...

With cirque painted skins and facade
Of candied ghoulish grins,

How sweet & innocent the haunted highs
Infects each home, "trick'r'treat" of hymns.

Laughter like All's been forgiven,
All seems right, again...

Though hidden faces -  forgotten sins,
Speak sie la vie this holiday,

With carved pumpkins, witches' cry,
Screams are as illusion as the fright,

This Samhain even tide .

It's all babes and monsters ball
This hallowed eve
This Samhain night

Tra la li, tra la lay
Then tomorrow is Hop tu naa...
The days after for all our saints...

Come the winter will be white,
As the ghosts this Samhain night.

Political system
Bred off disagreement
And those instigating change
Only do so out of hatred
People just regurgitate
Networked Ignorance
Align yourself
With the Great Jumbo
Or the all Knowing ***  
What a circus act

Monochromatic scene was displayed
Within the darkness of night
Where they built the tents
and held the game of fate
For them to finally met,
to cross each other's paths

As they roamed around the circus
The smell of caramels
also the scent of daydreams
Filled their minds and hearts
With warmth and hopes

Blurry images moved pass them
As the carousel drove them into dizziness
of an overwhelming feeling
Which was dangerous
For them to endure

Golden flames illuminating
While they took a dance
under the moonlight
Though they realize
That their feelings were eternal enigmas
Which would take lifetime to solve

But they also know
The hidden secrets
About the silver linings
Holding every possible dreams
Filled with rays of happiness
Within the night circus

If I am going to die,
I am going to die victorious
nestled deep in the rotten ribcage of the fever that keeps me afloat.

Observed from a distance,
philanthropist mercenary,
In reality,
banal tragedy shared with countless generations.

Words leave long ****** marks wherever they fall,
Drenched in war paint
fit to **** the nonsense from your ***** heart,

Are you interested in a manufactured personality?

Nothing but the lies to live for,
I do not exist when I am not observed.

scuttling across the valley,
the trench was deep and steep

scorching heat of the dry sun,
dried blemishes on the weathered skin.

Settling along the rocky facades,
hackneyed by the haunting past.

Sleepless nights of the perching predators,
Hibernating in aloof worlds .

Stymied by the wind in the barren land ,
Harnessed by the futile fears.

Simone Melchoir of the sinking ship ,
would not you go down with the fault.

Shunning away from natures affection ,
for every rose does share its thorn .

Sunny ends are reached ,
when the raging ravines fade away.

Slithering away the swirling serpent ,
The sun lurks in the brewing storm .

Sanctity of the witheld winds ,
sapping away the deathly darkness.

Serene air of the seraphic angel,
brought the plighting dreams to the refugees repose

Smelting ores and melting poles,
brimming with brightness the cradled cirque .

Summons of the exalted virtue ,
To burn the lizard and fly away like the phoenix

Succumbing to the wilderness,
to soaring heights and rising spirits .

Swanking in the soothing winds,
the phoenix looked down on the plundering valley.

Scorning at the downtrodden spirits,
The fraternity of the Desert lizard

instrumental
dreamer

time free
to sight see

wide
down
corybantic
oval
perimeter
shedding
tiers

in a garden
of angels
sprinkled
with pine cones
at the border of
void and Vaud

cantons
of meltwater cirque
les petites Fauconnières
the inner basin
of my outer reaches

I am
your
visitor
I am
your
audience

let's
stop
for snow
and polar cap
songs
where things
are still run by the natural elements
instrumental dreamer
not by algorithms
not by advancement

Evening shimmers wet with Autumn rain
It's sheen reflectors, mirrors, eyes

Of cavorting shadows amongst the fey
Like city tinsil this Samhain night,

Oh how lovely colors celebrate
With ghostly kin & youthful lights...

With cirque painted skins and facade
Of candied ghoulish grins,

How sweet & innocent the haunted highs
Infects each home, "trick'r'treat" of hymns.

Laughter like All's been forgiven,
All seems right, again...

Though hidden faces -  forgotten sins,
Speak sie la vie this holiday,

With carved pumpkins, witches' cry,
Screams are as illusion as the fright,

This Samhain even tide .

It's all babes and monsters ball
This hallowed eve
This Samhain night

Tra la li, tra la lay
Then tomorrow is Hop tu naa...
The days after for all our saints...

Come the winter will be white,
As the ghosts this Samhain night.

standing straight at pond's edge, cattails—
brown corn dogs on ***** blonde stalks
several with cream colored bursting guts
hang below sky waiting on sail
there, a red-wing black bird clings
as Cirque du Soleil actor's acrobatic feat
trilling its own musical accompaniment

other cattails tilt triangle shapes
reflected side, angle, side complexion
over water's bottomless mirror
colored autumn, by shore's tree leaves,
mallard ducks, and brooding clouds
while black headed chickadees splash out
ripples of Impressionist pigments weave

-cec

Where did the circus go?

Not like the Del Mar fair
Or the Barnum and Bailey skinny cow version

I want someplace nasty
A bit sticky
Someplace that picks up and leaves
before you have time to go get your watch back

All that’s left is a lot
Full of trash and ride screws
Because the rush to leave was more important
than safety

It’s a place most days now
I wish I could run away to

Slap on fake **** and be the bearded lady
Or warts and green paint and be frog man

Be something along the lines of
Homemade make believe

Be happy believing that
This other place doesn’t have things
Like rent
And car payments
And work that ***** you harder than your own girlfriend will

And don’t tell me cirque de solei is hiring
That’s not a circus
That’s people in costumes dancing and flying around on stages
They had to go to school to do that

You don’t need school to join the circus

You just need the desire to leave
Before anyone notices you’re gone
Maybe leave behind a sticky mess
And take with you something valuable
Like a watch
Or money from the purse on the counter
Or someone’s heart

Maybe I could be tattoo man
Or the ***** Mouthed Poet
And freestyle psalms that ache behind a glass window
That you have to pay a quarter to see through
And another quarter to listen
Or I could be a wax statue of Jesus
The one that if you stare at long enough
You see him breathing

Enough to restore faith in the make believe
That keeps us going

Let me be your side show
Let me be your fortune teller
Let me be the dark room in that back
Only the men are allowed into

Women and children this way

Let me be the ***** talk of town
And leave before the lynching

Let me leave in the night like a piper
With the promise
That I will give you the life you’ve always wanted
If you leave behind all you’ve ever been

Remember him?
He joined the circus?

Where’d the circus go?

her fantasy fulfilled
she guides him by pack-horse
up the craggy mountain trail
restrained by his inexperience
their destination above
her beloved secret valley
river far below, a faded blue memory

spying snow-coned peaks beyond
she fights the urge, for his sake,
to gee her horse the last few feet
almost there, past the jagged rocks
gap's a beckoning finger now
welcoming her home
so many years of separation

the valley bursts upon them
a composite of wondrous sights
compelling her to bring him
quickly through to hallowed ground
how many times she had returned
alone
she turns to him, a stranger here
only he deserves her secret place

watching his face
seeing elation and her radiance
mirrored simultaneously in his eyes
an expanse of horizon
mountain, aspen, florid fields, and water
nature's precious jewels adorn the vista
dressed with utmost care
to steal the unsuspecting heart

she leads him into the meadow
overlooking the turquoise cirque
cool waters in which she bathed
naked and contented
when last she'd journeyed here
meadow flowers cloak
the blanket she spreads for him

her fantasy fulfilled
his body framed against the sky
-limitless as their love- and
boundless beauty in this valley

Tout beau, fauve grondeur, demeure dans ton antre,

Il n'est pas temps encore ; couche-toi sur le ventre ;

De ta queue aux crins roux flagelle-toi les flancs,

Comme un sphinx accroupi dans les sables brûlants,

Sur l'oreiller velu de tes pattes croisées

Pose ton mufle énorme, aux babines froncées ;

Dors et prends patience, ô lion du désert ;

Demain, César le veut, de ton cachot ouvert,

Demain tu sauteras dans la pleine lumière,

Au beau milieu du Cirque, aux yeux de Rome entière,

Et de tous les côtés les applaudissements

Répondront comme un chœur à tes grommèlements.

On te tient en réserve une vierge chrétienne,

Plus blanche mille fois que la Vénus païenne ;

Tu pourras à loisir, de tes griffes de fer,

Rayer ce dos d'ivoire et cette belle chair ;

Tu boiras ce sang pur, vermeil comme la rose :

Ne frotte plus ton nez contre la grille close,

Songe, sous ta crinière, au plaisir de ronger

Un beau corps tout vivant, et de pouvoir plonger

Dans le gouffre béant de ta gueule qui fume,

Une tête où déjà l'auréole s'allume.


Le Belluaire ainsi gourmande son lion,

Et le lion fait trêve à sa rébellion.


Mais toi, sauvage amour, qui, la prunelle en flamme,

Rugis affreusement dans l'antre de mon âme,

Je n'ai pas de victime à promettre à ta faim,

Ni d'esclave chrétienne à te jeter demain ;

Tâche de t'apaiser, ou je m'en vais te clore

Dans un lieu plus profond et plus sinistre encore ;

A quoi bon te débattre et grincer et hurler ?

Le temps n'est pas venu de te démuseler.

En attendant le jour de revoir la lumière,

Silencieusement, à l'angle d'une pierre,

Ou contre les barreaux de ton noir souterrain,

Aiguise le tranchant de tes ongles d'airain.

Jamming jellyfish
Top-Me 
((Giddy App Seahorse))
The horseradish on
my lap_

The jolly Jelly
Gefilte Fish
Little help from  my friends
How we click the laptop
One dent to Deceive me
The Rock and Rolling

Stomach his smoke went
Like (*** Cheese)
he leaves me
The spicy tongue map
Z-Top Zany Chilli Pepper
your # tap dance tap
Italian top of
the cheese designer skirt
The outskirts of Naples
Her sweet dimples, please
The Islands of Sicily
So many Cheese forms
Terms of Endearment

Mama Mia Murano-Positano
Her lips of Romano Cheese
(To Top Me) Challenge me
Cheese doesn't mix
with cappuccino,
she's the Capri
Ala Denti
Cheese Wiz chair
Mediterranean Wines
Bear men doing low
sips of time
the grisly(Z) pour

The car smelled like
Flight (Top Me) Swiss air
Meet Dominique

How it went La Cirque
Anti Christ Devil Red-bed
cheese mystique
SOS to their notes
PS the junk car in
Midas the makeover
Make-up artist counter
Clinique
I could paint over your hood
Creamy mind put at ease
He's so displeased

New castle disease
Mingling social disease
She's so infectious
ZZ- Top me rock me
Eyes bloodshot you got me

And nevertheless
With twelve and V
V- Vamps tramps
and 14 karats
The French Lieutenant
Mistress Brie with heavy
bite teeth like garnets

Cher turning back time
The burlesque striptease
Come back little Sheba
Z Top Queen of Sheba

I know it's coming soon?

All Tight claustrophobic
The tight squeeze
Him speaking
Mandarin Oranges
The British Colony

Unique Chinese languages
Her hills, San Francisco
Jack Nicholson
Comedy of China town
The American Women
Smile cheese at the Disco
The food Cantonese
style
Z muscles Hercules
Joan Rivers
Fashion Police
The Cheese of Portuguese
Its the meat market
With his nifty thrifty Neice

All Socrates
(Gromet and Cheese)
Those Brooklyn
workers
The Falcon Matese_*
More cheese Z-Top
Who could ever top
The string cheese
Silken strings became
to rest, I rest my cheese
What cheese fascinates you
Tell me?

In twilight sleep,
thoughts out of control,
images take hold.
Viewed against  the canvass of blackness,
dead people dance
with succubi an incubuses.
Tiny gymnasts
balance on sharp edged swords
in le cirque du soleil
under a moonless sky.

Grimm’s tales
of baked children
and hungry wolves
play out. On a runway
starving women show
the latest fashions in cardinal red.
The Grinch stole my  green silk  Balenciaga gown.
Gave it to the frog  prince.
Sleeping beauty is just a ******.
She had too much of all of it.

Hermes glass slippers are sold
Only too few and deserving  Cinderellas,
trophy wives of  mummified kings.
What they really deserve is not on the menu.
Just le plat du jour of ortolans.
The three pigs are out of breath,
Not enough air for a *******.
Rose colored glasses take on a nasty
hue of watered down blood.
Bottle green is not la couleur du jour,
rather that bile color
with a tint of pus yellow.
There is a storm brewing,
A tsunami rising,
the earth shakes,
Volcano red lava
licks down the mountain.

Destiny?
Fate?
Apocalypse?

A voice whispers:
put up a shield, a bright canvass.
Paint with bold rounded strokes
in earthen tones.  Mold  vessels
to hold the morning dew.
Catch rays of sun
in a glass glockenspiel.
Hum the world, sing life.
Touch, feel, be alive.

A ray of sun sneaks through the blinds.
Dust dances in a shaft of light.
I am safe, for another day.

Jumping, bouncing and swinging from tree to tree
In a sparse forest just outside a village on the outskirts of Antananarivo
They adapt to the changes flung at them and strive to survive

On the ground a troop leaps sideways side by side in a straight line
What a comical spectacle
However solemn their purpose, they must find a home
The little one abaft of the line
Takes one last glimpse at the home he leaves behind
Oh it’s up in flames now and bulldozers knock down his trees
Beyond, just yonder
Over a hill further down south, the prospect is in sight
A new forest with new opportunities
It’s denser; it hasn't caught the eye of encroaching villagers
They forge on towards it in that spectacular procession

High up in the trees they mark their territory
Males call out to females and they howl in response
The young ones frolic in the underbrush
They mate, they eat, they thrive

Another forced migration
There they go again in that sideways march
More deforestation for infrastructure
There must be leeway for civilization one way or the other
One must wonder now
What future lies in store for these that have no place in government?
Their trails fade away from the Malagasy ecosystem
Their lives hang in a balance at the brink of extinction
Will our grandchildren ever get to appreciate
The extraordinary feats of agility they display
The gymnastics they perform from day to day
On the trees and on the ground in the jungle everyday
Ostentations of dramatic optical presentations
In their furry coats of monochromatic patterns
Perhaps they will disappear and my son’s sons may only get to
Read about them in the has been list of the annals of history
At this rate since erecting urban jungles
Of tar roads and skyscrapers is the order of the day
They might even be able to catch an obscure image of the lemur
In the form of a costumed trapezist mimicking one
Or a twisting contortionist in The Cirque Du Soleil









Nellie Nkosi

Siachen

At the savage, indigo sky,
draped in snow, claw the mountains high.
By the cirque, a base, sheltered 'neath,
his gun sings the ballad of death.

A field of kash, in autumn swirl,
the dark braid of that village girl.
Mother's white, unwavering faith,
his gun sings the ballad of death.

Skin burns through the synthetic girth,
frozen blood inseminates earth.
Echo of loss shudders his breath,
his gun sings the ballad of death.

At the savage, indigo sky,
his gun sings the ballad of death.

I feel the warmth of the pool between the underbelly
of my eyeball and the lashes long enough to
graze my cheekbones
It takes all the strength I have left not to force their
sisters to greet them
For if this meeting takes place, my weakness will
be broadcasted
A live performance by the liquid Cirque Du Soleil
As the freaks tumble down my cheeks
So to avoid this showcase
my freaks contort themselves to stay in their
warm bed
And I try my hardest not to blink.