"fairground" poems
The first sorrow of autumn
Is the slow goodbye
Of the garden who stands so long in the evening-
A brown poppy head,
The stalk of a lily,
And still cannot go.
The second sorrow
Is the empty feet
Of a pheasant who hangs from a hook with his brothers.
The woodland of gold
Is folded in feathers
With its head in a bag.
And the third sorrow
Is the slow goodbye
Of the sun who has gathered the birds and who gathers
The minutes of evening,
The golden and holy
Ground of the picture.
The fourth sorrow
Is the pond gone black
Ruined and sunken the city of water-
The beetle's palace,
The catacombs
Of the dragonfly.
And the fifth sorrow
Is the slow goodbye
Of the woodland that quietly breaks up its camp.
One day it's gone.
It has only left litter-
Firewood, tentpoles.
And the sixth sorrow
Is the fox's sorrow
The joy of the huntsman, the joy of the hounds,
The hooves that pound
Till earth closes her ear
To the fox's prayer.
And the seventh sorrow
Is the slow goodbye
Of the face with its wrinkles that looks through the window
As the year packs up
Like a tatty fairground
That came for the children.
20.6k
i saw a little goldfish swimming in a bowl
at the local fairground the poor little soul
he swam round round with very little room
going up and down in his little tomb
coming to the top to try and get his air
in his bowl so small it really wasnt fair
i took him home with me he looked very sad
i put in my pond this it made him glad
he could move around now he had the space
a proper goldfish home in a proper goldfish place
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 8:22 AM UTC
i saw a little goldfish swimming in a bowl
at the local fairground the poor little soul
he swam round round with very little room
going up and down in his little tomb.
coming to the top to try and get his air
in his bowl so small it really wasnt fair
i took him home with me he looked very sad
i put in my pond this it made him glad.
he could move around now he had the space
a proper goldfish home in a proper goldfish place
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 9:07 AM UTC
coloring inside the lines is impossibly bleak,
with a hissing noise
atomic locomotive
rounds the bend,
extrasensory perception is not
a mindless gift,
it's a train station in the clouds,
tracking all my starting points to you,
nothing in the middle,
nothing at the end.
you leave in opera
with secrets and grievances
under the radar,
and your ready-made
wings catch in the power lines,
you're coiling like smoke
in the arches of my cathedral,
a sense of elegant decay
while sweeping up the debris,
committing arson
with the paraffin of my temporal lobe.
yesterday's fairground waltzes,
ghosted lullabies,
and woodland hymnals,
set in a context not of
resolution and closure,
but of contradiction and assimilation,
break the bond,
away they float on purveyor belts,
one too many molecules,
one too many departures,
always on the surface of everything,
nothing in the middle,
nothing at the end.
Feb 16, 2023
Feb 16, 2023 at 7:27 AM UTC
Whirlwind demonic dervish, lights flash,
Psyche rides alive!
Schizophrenia bites, jagged knife blade, soul caught, brain flavour caught, snatched by diathermy wires...!
Burning always,
No, not me, someone long ago once known, dead in body...don't know how deceased..!
Found alone in chair, cold stone!
Left bejewelled gift,
Pure treasure chest ,
Legacy of dream escape,
Female child now twenty three!
Livvi Kent27/04/2013
(no he was actually really sweet just very messed up Not the demonic man from "Secret Conception", that was just a write!)
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 5:57 AM UTC
Stormy rain, stormy Eyes.
Look at me.
Wish you had of died.
A fairground trick, you never rang the hoop around.
The fairground ride, you could see the nuts and bolts.
But still you whooped with me.
There was a time,
at the beginning of the line,
where you begged me for a kiss,
for a moment of bliss,
before the fear set in;
before the terror unfolded,
and i was screaming and opening my eyes,
and looking forward,
and never at you.
I smiled for the camera,
to capture the moment,
of unequivocal bliss, of falling and riding high again.
Still you swore you would hold my hand,
for whatever we had planned,
and when i let go,
you looked at those lines,
and realised,
boy, you're in this world alone,
to ride the ride,
with me by your side,
but alone in your seat;
So what is it?
Ultimate bliss,
or,
terror of self-defeat?
Just remember,
I was there,
just a hairtip away,
just a fingertip, from your fray,
when you start to unravel,
from me.
As we swoop,
as we fold,
as we argue through your childhood behaviour,
untold.
Line up, line up.
The ride is free.
The journey is finali-ty
when you are riding,
with me.
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
there was a little mouse he loved a fairground ride
on the roller coaster he just love to glide
sliding riding the bends going very fast
waving to the crowd as he was going past
riding on the ghost train gave him such delight
skeletons and ghouls gave him such a fright.
riding on the track feeling every bump
then a big loud scream this it made him jump.
then on to the dipper high up in the air
travelling so fast he just love the scare.
going oh so fast it would quickly dash
running through the water making such a splash
when his fun was over he took a rest and then
waiting for tomorrow to do it all again.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
i saw a little goldfish swimming in a bowl
at the local fairground the poor little soul
he swam round round with very little room
going up and down in his little tomb.
coming to the top to try and get his air
in his bowl so small it really wasnt fair
i took him home with me he looked very sad
i put in my pond this it made him glad.
he could move around now he had the space
a proper goldfish home in a proper goldfish place.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 9:45 AM UTC
We grew up together
I pulled your hair, you kicked my shins...repeatedly....with vigour
I taught you to skateboard
You taught me to tip cows....make a rope swing and cheat at kiss chase
I taught you to roll cigarettes
You taught me to shoot whiskey, drop acid and roll joints
I took you to the fairground
You took me to an illegal rave and screamed RUN!!! when the police arrived
Years between us, you older, me younger
Yet here I am, the bad influence
While your **** smells of roses!
I showed you my writing
You gave me directions....here
I will always be grateful for that
I will always be grateful for you.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
Some fairground
by the coast
taken by the Baptist mission
by coach
and outside
some magic mirror tent
after having gone in
you said to Helen
not much in there to see
and the fairground guy
having overheard you said
not much to see?
come here and see again
and he took you
in the tent again
and showed you
how you looked
in front
of the various mirrors
in some you were thin
and tall and in another
you were broad
and fat or you were
squat as if someone
had sat on you
and squashed you flat
and you laughed at that
and the guy said
see there is much to see
so go tell your girlfriend
so you went out
of the tent
and said to Helen
yes it was good
the second time around
and Helen said
perhaps we should
go in together
and so you paid the guy
the money
and you went in
with her and stood
together in front
of the mirrors
and laughed
and she held
your hand
and you remembered
the guy saying
tell your girlfriend
and you guessed
she was
and that made
you feel happy
even schoolboys
of 10 years old
sometimes want girlfriends
secretly endeared
away from the sight
or knowledge
of other boys
as if it were some kind
of betrayal
of the schoolboy code
and as you walked
about the fairground
you watched
where others
on racing
wooden horses rode.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
There was an old man, I once knew
Peaches was the name he used
He was the drunk, set on our trunk
his body old and abused
Sharing his beer with an old horse
who caroused in the end stall
Each day by three, they'd walk by me
and stumble but never fall
His liver was a lace doily
alcohol pickled him thin
He'd been turned down, all over town
no one ever took him in
He drank his beer with ole Nellie
she could tip a bottle too
Swig and sway, like Don Quixote
as they staggered, swirling, brew
We were headed for the races
this blustery afternoon
Each planned the trip, we had to ship
I knew we'd be leaving soon
From where we trained at the fairground
we carted them to the track
Where all would race, and take what place
each earned in front or in back
Peaches rode in back of the truck
so he could drink the whole way
My uncle said, he'd soon be dead
drinking had seen his decay
We sat apart from others there
he and I were best of pals
He'd tell me tales, of life’s travails
while I ogled all the gals
That day he shared a sordid tale
of pain he caused his own son
He had shouldered blame, bore the shame
for this thing that he had done
Back when he was just a young man
a pillar of support
He took his boy, his life’s great joy
to play their favorite sport
They went to a picnic that day
he had drank one too many
On the way, to watch his son play
of fears he hadn't any
His boy was riding in the back
not thinking they skipped the seat belt
He'd rolled his car, the door ajar
surprise was all he had felt
His boy was tossed out in a field
sweet clover of timothy
The child's light hair, seen lying there
remembered so vividly
"I was a Veterinarian"
said Peaches to my surprise
"I went insane, called out in vain
but God never heard my cries"
"So now I ride where I belong
In back of my self-made bar
Hoping he, will come to take me
by tossing me from the car"
Just then a tear fell from his cheek
the pain enveloped me too
Here cried a man, much deeper than
any of us ever knew
Tate
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 2:12 PM UTC
welcome to the rollercoaster merry go round
shes guarenteed to please
your head will be spinning in the clouds
you wont know which way is up and which way is down
and then you get to go again the other way around
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 7:29 PM UTC
She was sweet with her bubble gum lips
she looked up with her big brown eyes
her body was wanting all a trembling
I wanted her as much as she wanted me
So we got on the ghost train
we went round and round
till we did jump off
where the sirens did sound
Just me and her in the dark
it was naughty but such a lark
we fumbled around as the carts went by
she pushed her hot tongue in my mouth
If I had come, I would have died
for she was so wet for me
so I took her there and then
with the carts going by
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 11:05 PM UTC
Painted faces
parade
the fairground...
laughing
then came the clowns.
Jul 4, 2012
Jul 4, 2012 at 6:02 AM UTC
We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........
Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life
Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all
And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away
By Phil Roberts
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC
there was a little mouse he loved a fairground ride
on the roller coaster he just love to glide
sliding riding the bends going very fast
waving to the crowd as he was going past
riding on the ghost train gave him such delight
skeletons and ghouls gave him such a fright.
riding on the track feeling every bump
then a big loud scream this it made him jump.
then on to the dipper high up in the air
travelling so fast he just love the scare.
going oh so fast it would quickly dash
running through the water making such a splash
when his fun was over he took a rest and then
waiting for tomorrow to do it all again
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
blind and black andromeda drops her skirt
and
around her waist she drapes the coldest dirt
when the pink pearl parade is nearing
don't ask, for long forgotten what was told her
monarch and viceroy we age (but don't get any older)
2 dark lovers sleeping in a midnight clearing
overland their dreams they glide of a lower shaded tint
darkness over top of light white chocolate eggs and mint
linen kitten sheets under branches lined of frost
the surface tower rises by a shower sky of cream
silhouetted hours joined discreetly at the seam
riding overnight trains so as not to wake the lost
the cauldron of a moment seen after a lifetime's purge
parallel hips that light a smile never to converge
"she smells like nina simone with a humid voice like ether
pastel lips, renaissance legs and august sunset *******
a second to align our love before the blackened water crests
nobody, nobody, nobody knows the depths that lie beneath her
this fairground love ends in blessed rapture flame
the terminal separation that God has given name
of a strawberry village girl isolated and honey tressed
whose severed fingers have guided paths anew
when she could have left she decided not to
but bound her deserter's hands behind love's holy breast
now the violet sands cover our tracks then shift
returning to a landscape's nightly spiral drift
that was the night everything changed
the hunted left the hunting grounds
the silence longed to find a sound
the equinox flowers lay rearranged
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 11:14 PM UTC
There's roundabouts
and bumper-cars
and a big wheel
and a coconut stall
Ingrid said
and a rifle range
I said
I won a goldfish
in a plastic bag
here once
on the rifle range
we were at the fairground
on the bomb site
by Meadow Row
bright lights
and noise
and laughter
and people shouting
and girls screaming
and music blaring
out of speakers
she was excited
to be there
her brown eyes
lit up
like fireworks
her brown hair
pinned back
at the sides
with hair grips
got to have a go
on the big wheel
she said
I want to go on
the coconut stall
I said
have you money?
yes
she said
2/-
your old man
give it to you?
no my uncle
gave it me
why's that?
I asked
as we gazed
around the fair
I do things for him
she said
as we approached
the big wheel
can't say what
it's out secret
my uncle said
I nodded grimly
and we climbed
on board
the big wheel together
and off it went
up in the evening sky
the Elephant and Castle
beneath us
our flats visible
because the Square lights
were on
the area was like
it had been bombed
over night
rather than
about 15 years
before
look at that
she said
pointing
and I followed her finger
and saw the horizon
of lights
and it was like
an explosion
of brightness
which brightened up
this best of all nights.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
He plays on me like I were a fairground,
I am sun-stained
he is hard.
To me,
there is being dead
and there is being alive twice --
give me your pulse, give me your alive --
I am either empty
or full as a ferris wheel at night.
I don't say that sometimes I cannot fit in
the carousel rides
or that sometimes the carousel rides
won't fit in me. He
takes my heart and puts it on the swings.
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 6:48 PM UTC
I held his hand firmly on the fairground.
There were ferris wheel and rocking boat
even a flying saucer
of rides worth a few pennies
but the boy embracing that unlucky age
had his eyes stuck on the shining silver blue
beaming behind the sparking glass
full with rotor blades ready to take off
dreaming a ride to the sky
past the high tent of the circus
over the tallest coconut tree
into the haze of stars
where to only lonely pilots could fly
for being loved and understood
and not questioned for the cracked voice
for the thin hairlines on upper lip
for glancing at the girls
but inducted into the team of thirteen
for perpetually traversing between stars
on free rides into freedom
worth a lifetime.
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 8:26 AM UTC
Do you remember those childish days
those warm days of lemon drops and candy floss
days we spent at the fairground
so never wanting to leave till night fell
You smiled so much then
and I hoped you would never leave me
I never had someone love like you did
then when you fell ill, I was heart broken
You told me you was dying
and my world did fall apart
you my love were everything
yet knowing you were dying and we would part
I still sing that poem I wrote for you
as the light faded from your eyes
I could never love again
my love of lemon drops and candy floss
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 3:34 AM UTC
I found you, cast away in the shadows,
hiding from the laughter, of those
painted clown faces
I found you, on the rooftop
sat with your arms, clasped
to you, wrapped around
Searching through the crowd
blinded, the lights of this
crazy, maddening fairground
Colours forming, moving
the Northern lights, blazing
blues, green, pinks, yellows
Kids and lovers, screaming
the Matterhorn spinning,
a frisbee gondola swinging
Midsummer Fair, a fresh green common
distracted, I turn, the Midnight Express
decorated, loosely dressed women and men
Axles rattling in and out
Ferris wheels, bumper cars, waltzes
Ray Davies playing, side stalls and games
Rubber ducks hooked, fathers shadowing
***** misplacing baskets, a high strike to the bell
in among mirrors, I now find myself reflecting
A cacophony of sounds, noise
music of Bob Bradley penetrating
these convex mirrors, movers and shakers
I pace past drag queens, circus freaks
footsteps moving in timely accord
the Helter Skelter, confused, disorderly haste
I am the whirlwind, climbing outside
the spiral tower, to the top
stars and constellations above
At its peak, I see you
you've climbed onto the rooftop
again
I always found you here
hide and seek, morphed into
children's games of sardines
I find you, you have hidden
I stay with you,
until we are found
Together.
© Sia Jane
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
I saw a Bengal tiger
in Eureka, California
Sadly, they had not “found it.”
In a place kept afloat by something ephemeral as ***** smoke
A cage, not more than twenty feet long
by twelve feet wide
Held power in check
But a few steps away
He or she
they did not say
played with a round pillow in front of us
crushed it with a mighty paw
like one of our skulls might be
If we came upon her
a frightened ape
in the steaming green jungles
of the part of the world
Where Kolkata rests
on Kali’s Ghat
The city of creative Destruction
Where millions eat
sleep and **** in polluted air
and brush their teeth with their fingers
at the gushing water
of a communal fountain
Where milky sweet chai
in a small clay cup
costs two cents
provided with a smile
and allows the man to turn a profit
In a way, I understand why we did it.
It is great to see such a grand thing so close
Orange fur and black stripes
beauty clothing strength
And the fear of it.
Without metal bars
vertical iron rods of power
I would be nothing but a warm
squishy snack
My head as useless as a coconut
Skull only a shell for the meat inside
My legs, fast as they are,
Would amount to only drumsticks
Yet is it not best
to leave such powerful beauty be?
It is a great arrogance that chains
such a powerful thing
For the benefit of ****** poets,
old couples, and howling children
Selling the soul of a wild beast
Second by second
glimpse by glimpse
for the price
of a fairground ticket.
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 12:13 AM UTC
~
*A scribbled note passed
from one insider to the next.
The day she runs out of people
she'll conference with birds,
fall asleep a child
and wake up a woman,
broadcasting from home
on the night in question.
A hundred years from today,
she'll hold on to dead flowers
from the fairground encounter.
She will avoid the bridge,
circle instead around
the walls of Jericho.
She'll write upon the wall
like it was her heart.*
~
May 13, 2024
May 13, 2024 at 1:34 PM UTC
I ,
yes I the traveller have long seeked the moon ,
the stars and the sun ,
often they have slipped my gaze ,
now only a blanket covers my eyes ( blinded by the sun )
Have you met the story teller of the great ‘ I am ‘ ?
of his tales should I tremble ,
in his halls the lost do not seek ,
the sick and poor enter his halls with praise .
For even this Gods patience will one day like sand fall from his blood stained hands onto beaches castles were built .
Now begone with you for even I must sleep ,
and find comforts no man should wish .
For the monsters of the deep have found me ,
Lust ,pride , bitterness and fear .
Look my jailer comes with chains you can hear that drag down the passage on this dark satanic night .
Sage if you see him tell him what might have been ,
and sorrows only purpose is love .
Are you still there ?
Dam what’s wrong with my eyes ?
I used to visit the fairground ,
Preachers like Wolves used to say ‘ come this way ‘
‘ come that for a shilling , for a crown ‘.
The musics stopped ,
I can’t hear the music and what of the great hall ?
The story teller I must find on this blessed night .
Now a chain mail of Norman men rise in my sea of despair ,
they like skeleton snakes rattle like memories in my head .
Surrender or capture the light ?
Holy Spirit my demons confront me and darken my night ,
for this must end in heaven or hell I bid it the light .
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 1:42 PM UTC