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ryn Aug 2014
Step right up and get in line
Produce your ticket, your seat I'll assign
Down the steps, then left to your row
Best you hurry, lights are dimmed low

Take your seat, settle in, be comfortable
The show will begin at the blow of the whistle
I'm your ringmaster, behold the spectacle
Welcome to your life, your very own circus carnival!

Be awed, be mystified, be entertained
Be ready to witness the life you've gained
You'll see fate defying feats and high wire decisions,
Emotion driven acrobats and will bending magicians!

First up, we have a duo, we have a pair
A man and a woman, whom you've learnt to care
Armed with big hearts along with hardened whips
Here are your tamers, they're yours for keeps

They'll attempt and try till their very last breaths
Keep you riveted, as they toy with death
Love with their hearts and their whips do straighten
Teach you lessons with firm handed affection

Stay put, you ain't seen nothing yet
Seen it all you think, but not this I'll bet
Bespectacled, they work alone but part of a guild
Pen juggling and book flipping, one aim to build

To impart all they know across varying disciplines
They'll get it done through different ways and means
Sit tight, do well, for you'll be rewarded
After their routine, you'd have learnt, your life you'd have charted

Put your hands together for next in tow
No my friend, it's not the end of the show
Let's welcome the one you'll soon come to seek
Dons a suit, you might see him five days a week

For sustenance, it is him that you will search
Hurls tight deadline projects from his obscure little perch
Equipped with a bow and bolts in his quiver
Shoots assignment laced arrows, makes sure you deliver

This last act would be the best
It could be true, no! It's no jest
Feast your eyes on your evening's temptress
With curves that could **** and garbed like a sorceress

Tease your heart aflame with wild raw magics
Render you submissive with her sensuous feline tricks
She could be the one, for whom you would have bled
She could be the only, you might want to wed

This finally marks the end of our night of nights
Night abundant with reflective imagery and titillating sights
Hope you've the enjoyed the performances we've lined
Hope we've lit the spark in your body and mind

Before we part and go on our own separate ways
Before the sun rises for the rest of our days
Allow me to leave you with one final say
"Life will be the ultimate circus; whether or not you choose to play".
Esmena Valdés Oct 2018
A blank box.
The antistrophe of the only thought of your dwelling repeats.
Your riveted eyes
like silkscreens of my harsh summers continue to ******* me,
they are imprinted to my seemingly abandoned, seemingly rotten consciousness.
I saw you reach the ledge
and then jump into the sea.
The sea sounds beautiful and is beautiful but also: The Sea

Down there your coastal effects
lay within the wave that pacifies
two legged sharks,
and the waters swallowed you
with voracious hunger.

Everything became withered,
the death cart arrived.
It came to take you to the great party of the longest night.
The beasts followed their pulse leading your way
to the black sun's of cosmo
giving way to perpetuity.

A blank box.
The antistrophe of the only thought of your dwelling repeats.
Only the sea witnessed you flight
and now you are The Sea.
danna22081 Feb 19
It might be said:

He walked alone,
Through the woods of ancient roots,
Within endless shrubs of glistening-green stems,
And aging, decomposing fruits.

He ran along the maze of bushes,
As though escape was distant...
Expertise no longer consistent.

He tripped, stumbled,
Along the snakes of vines,
Which promised him care, comfort,
Contentment intertwined.

As the mouse was promised love by the cat,
Vines were no longer able to maintain their caution for the boy,
For he slipped through their bare, smoothed curls
Of stems, and dislocated his purpose for living.

He fell into the cave of confusion,
Psychological transfusion,  
No longer riveted by the significance in living,
And prior to anybody’s realisation,
Of his surreal, realistic, reality of life,
Took his own, upon individual discretion.
Mental Illnesses are not jokes. Many individuals have committed suicide, due to influences of their surrounding community, and wider society.
Deb Jones Sep 2017
Little wrinkled bags
Oh, how some sag

Contrary to popular belief
Not all are "High and tight"
Some sadly sag to mid thigh

Some men shouldn't wear shorts
That are too loose around the leg

When they squat
A ******* may plop

I've seen it happen
The man, unaware

Until it hit the cold tile floor
He immediately stood,
And headed for the door

The ******* did protrude
With a lively bounce on his thigh
As it danced with his stride

My eyes were riveted
I know.
It was rude
But in my defense

Being a medical provider
I saw the poor constricted
Thing turning purple.

I wanted to yell...
Hey Mister!
Need some help?

Like a fin on the water
I wondered about what lay beneath.

Was it a covered behemoth
Beneath his loose runner shorts
Covering a majestic treasure?

Which led me to another thought
How could he run and control all that?

Did they swing back and forth?
Propelling him forward?
Like a peg leg on an unfortunate soul.

I have talked to them before
Although I have never smoked
I talk in a 2 pack a day,
30 year disguised gravelly voice

Talking to them like they are soldiers. Up close and personal.

"Get in there, buck up, follow through, take one for the team...." Yes, at times I drift into football lingo.

Why do I do this? I wonder.

After I have this awkward conversation.
I don't make eye contact for the remaining duration.

Men want women to take both testicles in her mouth
Roll them around before spitting them out

Do you think we look like squirrels?
Filling our cheeks with nuts for the coming winter?

I have perfected the look
When I first see a man naked

Hands to my cheeks
My eyes opened wide

I exclaim in excitement
"Is all THAT for me??
This is pure satire. I did see a gentleman squat to talk to a toddler and see everything fall out the leg of his short shorts. I don't think anyone else noticed and I swear I didn't laugh until he was out of earshot. AND I have only seen one man with testicles to his mid thighs. He was 90 years old and naked. Running away from me down a hospital corridor.
Harriet Cleve Aug 2018 silence he stared till his eyes ached from exhaustion.
The shallow breathing unsettled his mind. It was frostbite cold.
His head swirled with giddiness and instinctive fear; the
horrific realisation he was not alone and his form was no longer human. It was a deep rooted consciousness that instilled terror in his brain. An awareness this was Hell. No flames to flicker the shadows.

It was then the Devil opened his mouth to eat a plateful of dumbstruck souls writhing and recoiling from the sharp nails.
Slowly a tongue lapped them all up and relished in their horror.

He wanted to run from the Devil but was riveted in gut wrenching fear and was immersed in the souls and meshed with their terror, saturated in their gruesome awareness of their tormented new existence.

The Devil swallowed and drank their blood by the gallon and slaked his gory throat. Silence. Silence. Silence.

A realisation formed in his brain and either side of him lay decayed teeth. Rotten and mouldy and gangrenous. He had become a tooth in the mouth of the Devil.

Another plate of souls was placed before the Devil and he chewed with an appetite that would never be sated. The Devil laughed!
An evil cackle that drowned the fear of the writhing souls.

A tooth screamed within the Devils mouth. It screamed. Screamed.


— The End —