Best Circuses Poems
On the museum walls, a many hued color explosion,
As in varicolored gardens where beauty is spoken,
Or emerald forests where strange wildness thrives,
Scarlet macaws, blue frogs and orchid bee hives!
On nameless city streets, a steady fashion parade,
And sunshine orchards where luscious fruit is made.
Circuses and carnivals, with clowns and balloons,
And seeing flamingos dancing, on golden afternoons.
And popular culture in its varied shades and styles,
Painting upon the times, many appreciative smiles.
And the blur of lovely cars, sleek on the highway,
Heading toward red sunset, no thought of yesterday!
We are the last animals on earth,
Sneakily chasing elephants,
In the perilous bush, o Delight!
Eating frogs with forks
And sweet sour cream,
Reading books to dream about lazy whales,
The last animals,
Raising lions in traveling circuses,
To slaughter sheep in the name of God Almighty,
We are the last animals
Running away from hungry bears in the snowy Rockies,
To steal honey from worshipping bees, o Delight!
The last animals to change color, pain,
To whip the green asses in Sichuan,
The last animals on earth,
Feeding yellow birds in wicker cages,
To frighten the ostriches with large black feathers,
Breathing in the golden aurora jungle,
Living alone under the fast clouds,
We are the last animals, o Delight!
Capturing butterflies in picture books,
To tear the dresses with pink and high flowers
Impudic women, sweet strawberries,
To the delight of white panthers with sharp claws,
Really people, tell me, aren’t we wild animals?
Amen.
Your eyes brighten, at the side of your lips
Charming bent
How sweet it is like morning sun and love
Joined for engagement
That curve on your cheeks
Is like roses in full bloom
Colorful rainbow above heaven’s
Sky clouds loomed,
Your beauty makes it perfect
Makes it glow, as I say
No words can express how your smile
Made everything, my day,
Your smile is like a star that speaks
To the crescent moon,
Like a beautiful kiss that deflects
The music, so love the tune
Your smile is a supplement
For more joy and happiness,
Like a perfect supplement angle as angel
Drew that on your face,
When there is love,
When there’s a smile from you
Sorrows of problems turned to good vibes of gladness
Like magical incantations, it spells forward
Straight and hit my senses,
“Smile is a curve that sets everything straight”,
Yes… but yours give me love, affection of faith
Your love makes me smile like jester circuses,
That’s why I want you by my side
With a smile in my heart forever, always
I like your smile my love
You are my smile; your smile is my smile
"It is hard not to write satire," the ancient writer Juvenal wrote almost
2 milennia ago.
The times now mirror almost too well the decline of the Roman empire.
"Panem et circenses" or bread and circuses was his disgust near the end when Romans were distributed free bread and attended bloody spectacles.
Let's see, may be MacDonalds and television could be bread and circuses today!
Bread and circuses has also become a general term for government policies that seek short-term solutions to public unrest.
Yes, Juvenal, it has become just too easy to write satire today!
See my complete essay at www.http://thomasjamesmartin.com/breadcircus.htm
Both Freddy and Frieda Flea
Had an itch and felt the need
To leave their home on Beagle back
So they packed their bags while Fido napped
They'd heard magical tales of the Big Top
Since their larva days on top the pup
They weren't here this time to clown around
As they found themselves circus bound
They hitched a ride in a hobos beard
Too no telling who knows where
But one thing that is perfectly clear
Both those fleas are outta here
Along the way they purchased needs
In a marketplace made just for fleas
Like underwear and mint toothpaste
Soap on a Rope to wash their face
Plus deodorant, quite a bit
You need a lot of it when you've got 6 pits
The rumor mill can be very mean
Fleas, after all, are fairly clean
After a day of personal shopping
It was all aboard for more beard hopping
Riding that hobo from coast to coast
In this their new hairy chateau
As circuses go they started their own
Advertising on the hobos back cause he never turns around
Over time their acts they've modified
As the flaming hoops set the hobos beard on fire
Now with Freddy as Ring Master and Frieda on trapeze
They are the Greatest Show On Earth, at least among fleas
Sure... an old man in ballet slippers
can make you smile,
but soon, he too must
don overalls and mud boots.
Tabby cats turning cartwheels
and curly-haired dogs
in dotted clown suits
can take your mind to
funny places for awhile,
but eventually the crocodile circuses
and that tattooed frog
plowing apricot fields
must disappear, as forbidden
fruits cannot be glued
back onto trees.
So dream while you can,
go to whimsical isles,
drink coconut wine
and glide over the seas,
tango with lovers,
sing Sinatra songs,
cry with a friend and
jump in mud puddles-
forgive yourself and flout the wind
then begin the new day Hercules strong.
The clown
Circuit circuits
moving round in circles
swings and roundabouts
junctions dead ends
living closures and
beginnings
The fool wise man
woman child in all
posits mocks
understands the world
beauty horror
misgivings paths
ahead and gone
retrieved adventoured
learned felt inspected
long gone present
Re-chisseles
comprehends in
jest and wonderment
The jester
foolhardy
and foolproof
scribes in stone
and pencil
when fool’s gold
is just enough
where paradise
develops based on
hopes beliefs
and inner truth
The clown speaks
joy in face
of darkness
insight desperation
inspiration sweating
away the clouded
skies of dogma
digma paradigm
A joker true to
juddered jibes
jewels miracles
astonished tunes
informal charters
melodies and scented
wordings
bridges schisms
buffering the madness
infinite insanity
impoverished delusion
A senseless idiot
giving idioms
meaning iconoclastic
impromptu impropriety
making sense of what
there really is
A bubble blower
whistle blower
soapy gentle creature
carbolic and pugnacious
peaceful warrior
observing pulchritude
a journeyman
The circuits circle
circuses' loops
and rounded
loopholes spirals
intervening interweaving
fabrics
tapestries
makes
the clown
admittely i am one treasonous cat
and people everywhere had better take note
i ain't no republican nor democrat
and i don't see any reason for phools to vote
listen up people,
politics are a plague perceived of by desperate men
folks who sold themselves out fora few sheckles or less
and i must confess Jefferson and Franklin, quite frankly, were all fu**ed up
they dictated this declaration that declared us free to pursue our independence
but in the parenthesis they lasciviously limited our liberties
then there are those conventions that follow conventions conceived of by phools
and i'd appreciate it if someone could explain their rules
because conventions are circuitous circuses minus three rings and decorum
a most useless and absurd forum
they do, however, contain clowns that pour out of tiny little cars
and reveal a sick society's scars
they are meetings for a faction of felonious freaks who foist phoolishness on phools in places like Philly that are simply silly
or elsewhere
as they run around willy nilly casting votes akin to a fishing rod aimed at a pitiful pond
well there ain't no flounder in Philly or anywhere else as far as i am concerned
whilst i have been more than twice burned
and methinks the the fishing really stinks
while their constituents constitute a confusing array of idiots who idealize con-artists
men and women who treat candidates like they are Hollywood stars
well if you ask me Jennifer Anniston would make a pretty good prez
says me
she's got the curves for congress, the sexiness for the senate
and tempting t*ts that would make her perfect for a titular head of state
now, have i stated my case to your satisfaction?
so you can stand in line to vote for one of these assh*les
alas as for me i'd rather vote for Jennifer or someone of her kind
i'm sick of your Clintons, Bushes and Bobby Doles
and take this for the Gospel as preached by the undersigned
(c) 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
I went to The Jester’s Tea Party
In the tower with the winding stair
Frida Kahlo manned the door
And God and the Devil were there
The artist was stood in the shadows
Silently summoning me
To stand with him like a tiny child
At the edge of an innocent sea
He showed me the sadness of circuses
And the violent colours of night
Swept by the brush of his sorrow
Upon canvases heavy with light
He showed me the bones of roses
Strewn on a luminous land
Yama and Dali and Karma and Kali
A heart in a mannequin’s hand
He showed me a skull full of sinister dolls
The ink on a baby’s skin
The wild provocation of beauty
And the unsubtle presence of sin
He showed me unusual clichés
Arranged in original ways
Dudes in the gloom of a glorious doom
Rocking the Ancient of Days
He showed me a girl with an earring
A boy sat alone with a scream
The mischievous mosh of Breughel and Bosch
Through acrylic satirical dream
He showed me the judgement of jesters
The torments of transient lust
The whirling of dervishes whipping up wind
The imprints of pride in the dust
As he showed me his rainbow emotions
His passion, and bright neon grace
Solemn tears came tumbling down
His secret and hidden face
When I asked for the key to his magic
To his powerful mystical prayer
He turned
In silence
And pointed to
The lonely clown on the stair
‘Tis time to face the darkness
The words of the flyer had said
In Simon Griffiths’ art I found
The light of his soul instead
© Gail Foster 2016
knabstrup starstruck
a galloping galaxy
polka dot ponies
*Knabstrup Horse - Knabstrupper, a Danish breed of spotted horse
often used in circuses for their striking coats.
*haiku form with poetic license
01/18/19
For Edward Ibeh's
Polka Dots Poetry Contest
The Dogs of War are on a Blood Trail.
The first, Blinken, of many vermin that will lead to Biden's son, who is up a tree hiding, will soon be devoured.
Just before Hunter, now hunted, is tracked down and torn to shreds by public scrutiny and judicial process, will he likely take his own life, being the coward that he is, to spare his father from further embarrassment?
Or, due to his own frailty, and utter corruption, will the resident and cheat, father Biden, suffer and collapse from heart failure by the sheer weight of his own sins?
The story is unfolding, like a Shakespearean masterpiece, that will be retold for centuries to come.
Nixon, Kennedy... will be like children's Mother Goose stories compared to this epic, Romanesque drama of fortune, tyranny, and betrayal.
So great, they may have to edit Dante's Inferno, just to include the heads of Biden weeping on that icy lake.
Now, lay quietly in the bushes, from vantage points, and peer down on the amphitheater before you.
The stage is set.
The General, Trump, can be seen lurking in the rafters as his legion are concealed within the trees at the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest.
Will there be an Arminius, a Republican, who had acquired Democrat citizenship, that will lead the 50 FBI agents into ambush, and perhaps lead to the fall of Rome, a.k.a. the Democratic Party?
There won't be enough bread and circuses to save the Plantation Party after this loss... one can only hope.
by,
Martin Braun
4/23/2023
Source: rep harriet hageman calls for anthony blinken to appear before weaponization committee over intel letter about hunter biden laptop
Life used to be so glorious for me
when no one feared or scorned me. Children flocked
to circuses and parties just to see
my great performances. This clown’s life rocked!
The world has changed, but I’ve maintained my style.
I ride my red tricycle, juggle balls,
and do my slapstick tricks that once brought smiles.
Laughs followed my outlandish, well-staged falls.
Kids who adored me once are terrified.
They’ve been exposed to movies that portray
us clowns as wickedness personified.
I’m grieved by tales that keep the kids away.
I can’t compete with kids’ hand-held devices.
The few times I’ve performed in recent years,
it’s been painfully clear that what entices
the young is phones and games. I earn no cheers.
Add to the kids that fear me and the ones
that won’t watch me and can’t put down their phones—
the ones whose parents favor spending tons
of dough on birthday trips; some take out loans!
My life is now bereft of much that matters
to clowns. My very being lies in tatters.
January 6, 2023
Tatters Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
on tour, gone to the mountain, raising the roof,
keeping time w/ the music of the spheres;
down that old, ecstatic, out-of-the Way-
honky tonk highway,
a star blazing brighter
in the mystery of the night
in the heart of the desert.
***
(Usury is dead, not God.
There're no bloodied, dancing bears
in the three-ring circus.
There're no circuses.
There's only bread.
There's no organ grinder's cowed monkey,
cap and beggar's cup in hand.
Sweeping, the river runs fuller.
Cacti grow taller, more thoroughgoing,
desert blooms burgeoning,
blooming richer in the moonlight.)
***
Real deal,
saint and sinner,
hunkered thundering over his drum kit,
and coolest in dark shades in the heat and
glare of the spotlight,
he beams, Buddha-like.
If life's giving you trouble,
Last thing to do is to juggle.
The circuses' greatest master,
Made a performance disaster.
He was too old for the show,
But couldn't let go.
One throw went bad, then two, then three,
The audience thought, how bad can this be?
With each ball he'd drop,
The crowd thought he'd stop.
But he struggled bravely on,
As the drums drummed along.
The patrons picked up the beat, started to cheer,
The further he got, he lost all his fear.
His famous ten ring toss was his final thing,
Completed it perfectly, bowed in center ring.
Looked to the lights to give thanks and praise,
He'll remember the applause till his final days.
So on the journey of life no matter how old you are,
From collective compassion, you'll never be far.
Aging skills needn't be befuddling,
Go ahead, keep juggling while struggling.
Facts were sacked and positions made vacant for speculative trends,
evidence slowly cleared its desk, a victim of gossips truthful cleanse,
Rags stuffed full of fiction masquerading as hard facts,
our logic and understanding at its root suffers attacks,
building shaky foundations for the bricks are made of foam,
and when cerebral dwellings fall in realities rubble we will roam
Yet what grieves me more than storytellers disguised within truths scent
is that this focus on bread and circuses removes the world outside the tent