Best Carousels Poems
As early dawns sunlight, of golden glass....
Now drips from the ambient forest of green
Showers of light reflected, from across the pond
Gazing amid the cabins threshold; these love laced thoughts
A nightingale lingering; singing atop the windows ledge
Faraway whispers, from the preludings winds of time....
Ushering these images, beyond the corridores of ones soul
Still waters resurgent; resplendent, upon the silverish blue
Alluvions resillence, painted in criterion before my eyes
Lavishly renewed colours, brushed gently this heart of mine....
Fireflies and butterflies, floating through the turquoise sky
Melodies atop this brilliant canvas', carousels of life ~
But, as the pendulums gravities of truth sway inside my mind
I find myself within a fortitude of ponder; fortified
By the realization that not all is fairytales and or, ice cream rides....
Pestilence of plights befalling millions and who's wrong or right?
Thus in the referendum of self, one must choose and decide
The ways of justice, balanced upon the scales of conscious
Betwixt the pabulums dividing lines of love and hate?
And a poet writes....
Peering across the pond unto the other side
Beautiful faces beautiful eyes, beautiful hearts and beautiful lives
Red Robins sing and White Swans they fly ~
Embracing them all; this knowing; these treasures inside!?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The forest green....
I used to be a dreamer
Growing up within my mind,
I was no heavy sleeper
By creativity confined
I used to be a hero
One day, and then the next
I could've been Jack Sparrow
Prancing between the decks
I used to live in a circus
With carousels and flying cats,
I'd muck about without a purpose
All day out, with Mr. Tall Hat
I used to be a rarity
From anyone else, I was unique
I used to live in fantasy
Believed in fairy tales, even magic
Today, I am another person
As normal as they define
Too scared to be uncommon
Afraid to be left behind
Today, I live in blunt reality
A world of black and white,
that outlaws every little oddity
and punish them on sight
I have been dead before,
When they took my dreams away.
A feeling that the room is spinning
especially with specific head movements
Bout of dizziness
don't look up, down or to the side
- just straight ahead
I loved carousels when I was a kid
One step, one goal
grab a door frame or a chair
Vertigo... hits the labyrinth in the inner ear
My crystals ran wild
finally the diamonds are where they should be
I don't like carousels anymore
Dance, Ladies, dance!—
By the light of lanterns.
Let your red skirts swirl
Like the tops of carousels—
Candy-apple red.
Dance, Children, dance!
With your glowing adornments—
Rainbow blue and green—
Firefly green.
The scent of gardenias
Wafts from urban gardens—
Gardenias and radishes.
The night air breathes magic;
The block has been transformed.
She kissing my lips so softly
Wet pink; saying, just breathe
Baby lay back and enjoy whileas..
The neon lights burst into a million
Teddy bears fluffy bright ecstasy
A colourful carousels midways
Deep sea stars magical ride.
Planets live their lives, spinning;
Colorful carousels in
Space, never worry about
Death; they’ve too much joy.
as embers glow on wintry nights
candy canes and x-mas lights
truth gives way to summer’s steam
carousels and caramel cream
what fancy leads me on to dream
of sugar plums in frozen cream
O, free me from this August's blight
encase the world in beams of light
From a roulette of colored bands,
sewn by the pole of Maytime’s cheer
round and round, we dance lively swirls
encircling the gilded carousels.
Floats of laughter merrily wafts
as jiggling arms offer Spring’s pleasure,
through music warmed by folks beaming
under one sun, we form a ring.
And bouncy the prance, left to right
each cluster of hands on dressed bows
where hearts blend from a season’s glee,
to reap life’s gift of harmony!
Seren Roberts' Life Is Like A Maypole Contest
1/31/2015
A haze…
Languorous oft in summer days
Where sundrops drip
From melting skies
Onto city grind
And parasols shade the cobbled grays
Across back alley lanes
Trains and trolleys tip toe by
As a fool in love forever waits
Among a noon bistro Paris crowd
For his girl, who is always fashionably late
Outside a sidewalk somewhere café cityscape
Young beauties amidst a mid-day stroll
Becomingly, become ever respectively
The flowers that line the picket way
Or some frilly prize ponies
Beneath carousels about avenues of Torrid place
A testament to this…
The carriage horses that turn their whiny heads
And then, when I turn mine
It’s to witness boots of cavalier instead
That step to one side
For moments languor has left
As my own prize has made red carpets rise
Those flutter lashes like shotguns glint blasts
And soon the white dove makes its notorious descent
Where the gentlemen, unbeknownst to them, become like minded ruffians
As they dive into madness for her precious handkerchief
“Oh” this women of mine, she has her perculiar ways
Just like all the silly rest
My damsel mademoiselle never enters into throes of distress
Longer lace invites mischievous about a button down dress
And her kisses offer smiles and arduent waves
With utter love contempt to them, but my hand is her biggest praise
I guess it’s the thrill of the game
And she’s the tigress and I her willful prey
Opening up the Gazette, coffee I incredulous sip and purposely hide my face
As my sweet flora strolls my way
And lands into her lover's arms
In a somewhere summer Paris afternoon café
Goose Fair
I really do love Goose Fair
It’s such a great feeling just to be there
Carousels going round and round
With your feet not even touching the ground
Or Dodgems bumping into one another
Leaving your heart all of a flutter
Candy floss, sticking all over your face
Tucking into hot mushy peas, while round you race
Some rides just too scary to go on
If like me, you are getting on
But that does not stop you having the time of your life
Especially when you have had, Countless years of Agoraphobia and strife.
The alleyways within the maze are paved with rats and mice.
Evangelists with moneyed fists collect the sacrifice
from losers scorned and rubes reborn, and promise paradise,
while in the back they cook some crack, inhale, and roll the dice.
A bum called Boe has stubbed his toe, he’s stumbled in the gutter;
with broken neck, he looks a wreck, the sparrows all aflutter,
the passers-by, they close an eye, and turn their heads and mutter:
“Let’s pray for rains to wash the lanes, to clear away the clutter.”
A river slows neath mountain snows, and leaves begin to shudder.
Though rip-off shops and crooked cops are paid not once but thrice,
the painted girl with flaxen curl is paring down her price
and loosely tempts cold hands unkempt to touch the merchandise.
A crazy guy cries “where am I”, a schizo titters twice,
and double quick a lunatic affects a fight with lice.
The jungle teems, a siren screams, the air is filled with meth.
The Reverent Priest and nuns unleash the Holy Shibboleth.
And Righteous Jane who is insane, as well as Sister Beth,
while telling tales to no avail of everlasting death,
at least imbue Hagg Avenue with whisky on their breath.
The Reverent Priest combats the Beast, they’re kneeling down to prey,
to fight the truth with fang and tooth, to toil for yesterday,
to etch their mark within the dark, to paint their résumé
on shrouds and sheets which then completes the devil’s dossier.
Old dan, he's drunk and in a funk, all mired in the mud.
A Monk begins to wash Dan’s sins, and asks “How are you, Bud?”
“I’m feeling pain and crying rain till soon there is a flood.
And no god’s there who seems to care I’m always coughing blood.”
The Monk, he turns, Dan’s words he spurns and lets the bible thud.
Well, Banjo Boy, he will annoy with jangled rhymes that fray:
“The clanging bells of carousels lead blind men’s minds astray
to rings of gold they’ll never hold in fingers made of clay.
But crest and crown will crumble down, when withered roots decay.”
Continued
SWEATS and SWEETS
Shooting sighs and moans we fired last night still glows
As tangoed silhouetted shadows hungered love dancing
Peeping breeze outside match our whispers and calls flow
Desiring to dip and sway like leaves our top wanting
Our hands and lips pastel strokes to light brushes show
Two bared torso's touching amidst silken sheets warmed
Daring palms to fingertips send fevers upon hungry hips
Heartbeats stomps and thumps like bass drums stormed
Thrusts and pumps to nerves draw carousels of round trips
Stirring sweats to trail slow on curves adorned
Sweet scented heart lips in nonstop loving caress
As tempos rising aplenty voice fusion fueled cries
Torso's now blossom blessed by their loving impress
Gyration waves ebb after reaching heavenly skies
Legs twine, breaths calm, sated souls fall finesse
______________________________________________________________
©J. A. Fraser and O. E. Guillermo
17.14pm, May 24, 2015
“CAROUSELS AND CANDYFLOSS’
Childhood memories cherished and remote recollections
Emerging in magnified clarity encourage renewed perceptions
Open air big screen films referred to as “Drive-Ins”
A regular Saturday night treat -- family car, excitement within
After eating our packed picnic snack
Permission asked to play—promises to come back
Our greatest thrill sat under the huge white screen
Amusement ride—galloping flying horses-- enchanting scene
Carousel rotating- fairground organ—a musical ride
Merry-go-round- gilded Horse ballet dancing with pride
Some high on poles, interspersed benches—
These were placed for the less adventurous
Waiting patiently the ride slows down
Small minds choosing horses to call their own
Rushing to mount our fantasy up high
Small feet in stirrups, as wooden horses fly
The candy-floss man stands on the side
Inflated packets-- pale pink, blue and white divide
Cotton- wool sugary treats entice as we wait
Melt in the mouth moments to keep us awake
Kim van Breda—February 2013
Cotton candy treat
Ferris wheels and carousels
Amazing fun house
Shooting sighs and moans we fired last night still glows
As tangoed silhouetted shadows hungered love dancing
Peeping breeze outside match our whispers and calls flow
Desiring to dip and sway like leaves our top wanting
Our hands and lips pastel strokes to light brushes show
Two bared torso's touching amidst silken sheets warmed
Daring palms to fingertips send fevers upon hungry hips
Heartbeats stomps and thumps like bass drums stormed
Thrusts and pumps to nerves draw carousels of round trips
Stirring sweats to trail slow on curves adorned
Sweet scented heart lips in nonstop loving caress
As tempos rising aplenty voice fusion fueled cries
Torso's now blossom blessed by their loving impress
Gyration waves ebb after reaching heavenly skies
Legs twine, breaths calm, sated souls fall finesse
©J. A. Fraser and O. E. Guillermo 17.14pm, May 24, 2015