Best Carny Poems
Riding off into the Ivory Palace sunset,
in a pitch-black limousine, no less
Hear the heavy metallic chariot roar,
leaving exacerbated fumes echo deplored
Aural palette, enamel pestilent pain
on burnt crimson background grain
Scorching prairie brush fire
was the cruel comfort desire
It’s aghast portrait in pandemic grief,
pyramid scheme exit of paucity relief
The curtain call, pulmonary rating king
is a modern-day Nero
His favorite numbers (violin strumming)
are the printed zeroes
Fashioning a Fourth Reich,
naked emperor be blew Lenin unsound
Ballot dropping the psych,
bosom burning the divided house down
With a teary grift posturing diddle,
Amerikan Nero is playing the fiddle
Rearview rolling one last Rublecon riddle,
carny Fahrenheit was the plucking piddle
Crumbling democracy
was brimstone seen through the smoke
Ash trail of hypocrisy
left an urn nation crematorium stoked
12-29-20
I yelled and flung the empty whiskey bottle through the air
The marching high school band is getting closer
Children running, playing with the pygmy bear
The carny selling snake oil, argues with the grocer
Soldiers marching past the fountain try hard to hide their stares
as ladies of the night walk by and boldly strut their wares
The preacher turns the other cheek, and quickly looks away
As mothers hide their children’s eyes, on such a dreadful day
The hunchback and the midget playing baseball on the grass
run off the growling rabid dog that almost bit their ass
The fishermen pull up their anchors in the dark and tranquil bay
and sail off to their secret place, where mermaids swim and play
The doctors and the lawyers and their limo drivers too
lay drunk across their tables in the dimly lit saloon
The one eyed hooker sings aloud her favorite Country tune
As the village idiot runs in circles, howling at the moon
And me I’m just here sitting, watching from the bleachers
As children on their outing, yell profanities at their teachers
The firemen turn their hoses on the salesmen trying to sell
Direct TV subscriptions, as the crowds yell “go to hell”.
City lights come alive, the cats desert the streets
The silence of the falling leaves, are gathering at my feet
As I walk past the working men, erecting circus tents
To bring tomorrow’s curious here, to offer new events
you'd beckoned my thoughts again
through sudden whispers
i've declined to respond morbidly
catering to the quaint findings
of life after death a quiet calm
arose over shattered fixings
wildly i'd mastered the gory details
hindering my every whim
childishly i catered to his robe
nestled beneath wrath carny
and the mild mannered masterpieces
torn between terror and sheer neediness
while captured beyond graveness
the sullen memory of where time resided
my inner self crawled eagerly i suppose
as my body bargained with my soul
a meaningful gesture giving my heart
infamous nudges arousing tattered bliss
mere ashes to be smeared throughout
the galaxy of fairness and the norm
i'd become immortal again binding
a hardened stone catering to the sensual
needs to gather soiled stained hanker chief
a sudden removal of all earthly gesture's
i'd crawled beneath self tracing his footsteps
he guided me somewhere between heaven and earth
i suppose as night crawled under day creating
a soft mauve glow throughout the sky all sense's
were quite balanced and filled with a tidiness
i'd rather not embrace the calmness about me
moved searching for granite hills and solid
foundations as the warm mist traveled evenly
through ancient greenery of pastel pasture's
while my mind craved a certain mastery i found
little peace depicting a tranquil finding i'd began
to shatter openly into a million pieces a sheer
rapture abode my firm structure as my mind
swayed tossing memories back and forward
a charming force chasing the eye of the needle
i'd encased virtue beyond my wild eye's slowly
madness had return shivering about my space
why i'd carefully stored it somewhere between
the grand piano of broken keys and lost notes
unspoken memorandums followed by speech
hence moving tolerance behind me abandoning
life as i gazed earnestly above the carny dreams
of a folklore's tale capturing my soul in a borrowed
dance a game of chance as i began watering the earth
with a mountain of tear drops drowning myself into
solace and relief quiet moments opened the windows
to my mind seeking refuge in my thoughts my desires
an infamous notion that i once walked among
the living that i once soared through the galaxy
clinging to light clinging to hope's findings absorbing
life's bruise's feeling human emotions for one small
moment i'd felt a twinge where life once dwelled
somewhere within me
“Truth isn’t truth,”
that’s what some Cap’n Obvious toady recently said
He was pissy mad, when his angry tears wet the bed
Lieutenant Rudy Brown-Nose
a has-been sniffing the swine caboose breeze:
Loco breath wafting
between sulfuric methane, prune puckered lips —
sphincter pie holes half-closed
Politrician power tools pocket plugged into their patsy roles,
says with dark chaos authority: Everything is under control
Public trust pirates,
dressed in
populist parrot disguise,
love $inging tavern song$
Foaming out the frothy, dark-amber lager lies
Iscariot getaway chariots
be karaoke squealing yellow snow —
highway robbery melodies
Money green
dollar rain
golden showers
On silver cloud vapor piles,
sticky six-finger flies
be spitting out
buzz-kill dung beetle cries
Butt of the jokes be the wench reward
for the stumbling,
power-drunk whores
Wet froggy kisses
scraping the sky
for a few rubles more
$ee the neon $ign $potlight in the $ky,
it’s showing some Two-Face, penny-wise liar
(Riddling?)
Ritalin up the final justice score
Bat-crazy, Commish slum lord
got the Lewd tenant
boot-licking
filthy lucre crumbs on the floor
Dog whistles got the railroad cage bent ...
Wall Street woofers on a barf paid, carny bark yell
Every foul commodity bowel movement
do slug leave a regurgitated profit stench vomit trail
While the vote suckers are on the slow buy,
their Good Ship Lollipop is on a quick sell
“Truth isn’t truth,”
is what some Cap’n Crunch croaker just said
That’s a mouth full of self-serving, apron purse ties
Sweet Georgia boo pecan pie is tasty cow pucky lies
Go on ... take another covetous slice,
and a couple more burglar bites
Wet froggy kisses
scraping the sea below
for a few dollars mo’
Spitballing Prince of Tides
love muddying the waters so
Sold old truths as new lies
“Truth is truth,”
ain’t what some Cap’n Ahab toady just white lie wail said
It crocodile aqua lava seems
the Cap’n Nemo Lying King
is gonna sleep well tonight, on your hot Pompeii water bed
we are but poets
the woman yelled
into the vacant crowd
poet I say
left emotionally
scarred bearing
one's soul
over time between
a sudden blow of carny
mirth fascist beliefs
tarnished by eternal
immortality
where greatness
is found in stone
we Waited-
the summer for the carnival to arrive-
all the rides
and all the side shows
the screams far and wide
and the carnival treats
running to get on the roller coaster
was that me there
yelling
that's when my world was wonderful
the ferris wheel
oh gosh we are high
far and wide
my friend leans over and I close my eyes
from ride to ride we rush
the music is blaring
and we
tilt
and whirl
the smell
of candy-apples in the air
balloon man whistling for us
and the music is
blaring
come take a chance
carny men yell-
I went-
to the carnival not long ago-
it seemed unchanged
same rides and same
sounds far and wide
nothing had changed at the carnival
but I had I had grown up
so no screaming
no yelling any more
the excitement was gone
or
was it
from ride to ride I wandered
and kids ran past me
skipping
shouting
and the balloon man still whistled
and the carny man still called out
but I was quiet
a watcher
now
and lovers passed by arm in arm
holding huge
teddy bears
____________________
October 19, 2017
Poetry/Free Verse/The Carnival
Copyright Protected, ID 17-9509-15-0
All Rights Reserved.
Submitted to the contest,
Any poem won in a contest in November,
sponsor, Laura Loo
First Place, Judged December 4, 2017
___________________
Written for the contest, The Sound of the Past
Sponsor, Eve Roper
First Place, Judged November 4, 2017
Its wet and drear in London dear, the pomp in on full trope
Though hope is gone, not dead for Jesus is the only hope!
Its foolish to trust in others; dopes.' In robes and words
In fear and force, its hackneyed ethos, solid dross of course
One hundred mill, so bums can sit.' and ears listen to
Waffle and some titter, and scraps and traps such slippery
Tounges we'll no doubt hear, yet will we sum? A throne of
Gold in a nation sold, to the w e f, just same old same old.'
The crowds are thin, not much the din' dis-enchantment is
Setting in.' geriatrics in phylactics gather and throng how
Can such traversitys continue on? Food in piles is stored
Away, as childen are hungered, its the British way.' Some
Vassels also, it seems agree although; their people need
To be set free.! Free to thrive to grow and prosper, yet to no
Reason i now return, to the parody of vanitys and a useless
Crown ' thats just the head though, i'll make this clear on
A British day of pomp and drear, might he take a little trip?
Before the throne..As ascends he it.' Twould be indicative of
The wider nation, that needs a real King not this Abberation.'
Man, it’s been four long dog years!
Forlorn doggone tears
of toil
and trouble
It’s a flee collar fact,
this feels like forty years
of Sirius jaw smack:
Loss leader of the pack
has got a Cujo shifty,
barf shuffle
Spit pissing
constant doggie poo
puff bubbles
It’s bad to the bone,
contentious err
Listening to those vulgar [s]wag tales,
has pup aged
my schnauzer soul ten-fold
That’s howl long it’s been,
four dog-eared years!
All of them dog whistle tweets,
mutter sounds belch indiscreet
Vomit noise spilt in the streets,
by deputy dawgs on gag delete:
A Pluto soundbyte loop repeat
Those pilfer pooches
was gon be
the Scooby-Doo death of me
But I didn’t wanna wait-see
Woe, man! It’s been four long dog years,
of carny bark
not subtle
Every wrinkled nose ballot spoke,
grey stubble
Too many me
were simply dog tired
Of seeing Lady Tramp Liberty
lip muffled
Her trashed democracy hope
getting Lassie tear-tossed
in the rubble
I truly dream-fear
those rabid dog years
(four centuries of snarl jeers)
will runt-of-the-litter reappear
11-30-20
The music was so loud I could hardly hear myself think
as the carny's followed the crowd as if they we're the missing link
the carny's and customers danced to the rhythm of the beat
while I searched and hunted, longing for a seat to rest my feet
Round and round I went feeling like I was on the tilt a whirl
up and down the aisles bumping into a dancing girl
arms and legs moving as the crescendo of music built
as some carny's swarmed upon me, I didn't know what to think
Then I heard a carny bark something about a great deal
barking come on up here to spin this here magic spinning wheel
soon there was a stampede of feet running to the front
while I hung in the back, not wanting to feel the brunt
After two hours the carny's announced it was closing time
so I grabbed my belongings and made it to the front line
still dancing the carny's cleaned up which I thought comical
and while exiting I heard above the music, thanks for shopping at Shoe Carnival!
murder sang in me where the sultriness
of hot cotton fields consumed by
old carny folk gestures given any doubt
to a freedom that ole Abe spoke of diligently
why I never dreamt a better dream
where I'd giggled life's fortitude beneath a darkened
sky with brillant hues of wandering mirth beyond
a quaint timing of lemonade and broken slacks
why I'd began to simply utter faint whispers
of where I'd been through the gallows and gentle
memoirs of mi Irish pappy I'd exploded in a sensational
absolute glow covered in shamrocks I solemnly wondered
what gift shall I leave to mi irish pappy perhaps
the cream colered scarf or a pair of paisley socks
as the hanging moss spread sparingly over land
where he'd become to grow as old as mud pies
underneath the empty porch
One man, one vote
Listen to the double zero
poll echo
One man, one vote
is power transition farcical
A national joke
One man, one vote
is very unpopular electoral
Lever pull okey-doke
One man, one vote
was a woman suffrage hoax
A muzzle masterstroke
One man, one vote
Con-stitutional pipe smokers
took a fake vapor toke
One man, one vote of very lil’ jolt
Alternate current voices
got a direct party line swing nope
One man, one vote
Poll echo tally count double zero
Sum abacus croak
One man, one vote
Majority honk indignation
got a carny clown soak
One man, one vote
Popular gripe concession
twas a ballot tear choke
One man, one vote
be a lost bleat, pearly poll wee echo
Uno shuffle double zero
One man, one cell vote
sorely received the Bilk-o freedom cry
A Trump card eye poke
One man, one vote ~ Democracy false hope
Mandela truth was a pauper lie
Just like that rich Joker bloke crying broke
Circus cat Cecil
Fantastically flew free
Soaring sailing sourpuss
Projecting piercing paws
Blow blarney bugle blow
The bogus sound waves echo
bifurcated notes
That hollow sting tone
has a subtil serpentine drone
Toot the tout timbre tune deceptively
Let the stealth vibrations
blare witness with utter bandit ease
This covetous instrument
was slyly carved from a money tree
When the heist horn blow,
those with adder ears
let their ostrich eyes close
Be a blind mice in the atmospheric mint maze,
have a deaf eardrum
to the brass burn rubber sound theft getaway
Blow blarney bugle blow
Carny breath allow the counterfeit air
to fraudulently cash flow
Soon every silent blare witness
will empty pockets know
Peel back the onion tear squeals
coming from a televised live politico lynch rally
See the sound byte rubber duckie
teflon touting
his favorite effigy combustible hits
Penguin strutting presidential seal
got a billy goat attitude, kicking rude gutter alley
A moving goalpost sway dis plucky,
sour spouting
his most edgy, nitroglycerin lip obits
Give an Orwellian mad props shout out
to this Banana Republic appeal
It’s got plenty of Hammedetha hate, swastika love
Bent cross rules
trolling tropic yellow fever
Rabid delirious cold sweat vanilla doubt,
fascist hope has a death toll knell
It’s got bundles of blitzkrieg love, Haman hate
Coin bossed tools
pull on the hangman’s lever
Banana Republic appeal
got a filthy lucre piggy publican feel
Roman togas behind the keel steering wheel,
Caesars wanton more red dollar bills
Two thousand fraudulent, furrowed years,
crucified cries dripping with Diaspora tears
Banana Republic appeal ...
Legionnaire monkeyshine hurt,
skeleton bones
sabertooth rattle toss
a high yellow alert
Alien fear don’t have to gun tote yield,
power corrupts when a Balaam wields
Scimitar curved insides
swinging sling blade serrated hate
Dividing every Canary gripe state
Carny barker razor edge spit,
spiked with Herod care,
lung pour Raid
the Dixie klear kup of Kool-Aid
Banana Republic appeal ...
heady void, thoughtless swill
Pendulum arc bullet shot
is a guillotine drop done deal