Best Harlequin Poems
Damn me ...
Damn me straight to hell ...
All this time ... all these many miles ...
All the masks and tears and self-flagellation ...
All the changes and promises and lonely nights and dreams ...
All the YEARS that I haven't so much as heard your voice or seen your eyes ...
All the others that have come and gone and come again, admonishing ...
All the poems full of my essence and bitterness and confessions ...
All the songs written and sung and cursed to dirty silence ...
All the rattled screams to the gaping wound of heaven ...
All the cursed, forsaken ghosts drowned in my blood ...
All the phantoms sacrificed to hell for your sake ...
And I am still that silly heartsick boy ...
I. Am. Still. Your. Damned.
FOOL.
I put on my finest and set it in my mind, to
win your precious heart. I took great pain and
effort my best to you to impart. Then I came
before you, to laly my treasures at your
feet . I sang to you sweet love songs and
wrote your poetry. I bowed down before you on
bended knee. Alas you paid no notice, and from
my presence you did flee. Now at a distance I
behold you earnestly. Your beauty is so
radiant, your spirit strong and free. I gasp as
I glance at the revelation
I see. Now I've made a vow to myself and
burned it in my mind, to never give up, to
somehow get it right. I'll come to you at day
break, at mid-day there I'll be, I'll come to
you at midnight and sneak into your dreams.
I'll never wain or grow weary of seeking
after thee. Perhaps I'll never win you, this
might surely be, but I'll never give up. I'll
always be the fool in love with thee.
"Hearing the Harlequin"
Mute
Blues and greens
Picasso spins his brush
on his canvas she appears
playing
a Mandolin
in his dreams
Felt
She is seen
through another's story
L’Oiseau bleu,
Captured Queen
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Felt Mountain" / Goldfrapp
https://youtu.be/qLySQ-zuULI
1.
Picasso
Girl with Mandolin
The Seated Harlequin
2.
Metzinger
L’Oiseau bleu
Pablo Picasso / Seated Harlequin - Self-Identity & Picasso's Harlequin
https://www.swarthmore.edu/writing/self-identity-and-picassos-harlequin
Pablo Picasso / Seated Harlequin 1901 / The Met
https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/489124
Pablo Picasso / Girl with Mandolin 1910/
http://www.pablopicasso.net/girl-with-a-mandolin/
Jean Metsinger/ L'Oiseau bleu
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%27Oiseau_bleu_(Metzinger)
Jean Metsinger/Cubism
https://study.com/academy/lesson/jean-metzinger-paintings-cubism-biography.html
The
op art
illusion-
in colour-filled
leaps.
Nataraja by Bridget Riley
Harlequin
Steam on a mirror
Gas in a bag
Small face
Two huge ears
Sticking out sideways
Dancing on a
Domino
Gems, stones, pebbles and crystal
Are the only assets we gleefully haul
Harlequin wonders on the ground stealthily crawl
But monochrome human eyes rarely enthralled
Red, green, blue, orange and yellow
gems dance in the mid of the meadows
From the rainbows the colors they cling
Blend with sand and river and they do mixing
Some fly, some scramble, and some sleep
Some sing, some dance and some creep
Some make the silent night musical
Some paint the dull place colorful
Failing to fathom these nature's abundant treasures
We miss the chance to relish heavenly pleasures
(Glorified Pear Honey)
The lowly pear,
no zip, no burn.
Major juice, anemic flavor.
Add orange and lemon for bite.
Grind all to blend.
Add sugar for sweetness,
cook, covered, in 200 degree oven,
eight or more hours,
as you sleep.
Upon awakening,
add maraschino for color,
seal in sterilized jars,
store in pantry.
Pear Honey
on morning toast,
grants a baklava morning,
without the fat.
cfa© 10/4/2014
Turn your cheap tricks;
And we all turn our backs,
Nobody will laugh at a jester like that.
Your black and your white,
Now an unrighteous grey,
It seems there's no call for a joker today.
You can play to the devil
And the fallen kings too...
Who else would have time for a fool such as you?
Heed this warning, dear ladies,
Sage advice I would impart:
Don't waste your love on a man
With a harlequin heart.
He can never be trusted,
His words won't be sincere,
He will never be faithful,
And he won't shed a tear
When your dreams lie in tatters
And he's left you alone,
And he'll never endeavor
For his sins to atone.
For a while he'll beguile you,
But in the end you will find
You cannot caress a river,
You cannot embrace the wind.
He's here today and gone tomorrow,
He'll take his pleasure then depart,
And the sorrow you will treasure
Is all you'll have with which to measure
What it's like to love a man
With a harlequin heart.
Author's note: After reading Ann Peck's piece "A Seasonal Love", I once again dug into my archives and found this offering. I hope none...or not many...of you dear lady readers have experienced this kind of guy.
Gulpin’ kelp, keepin’ me trim…
Fill it to the rim!
Vagabond dope
Don’t do dope
Thriftydrift Frank
Never seen the bank
Sillypill Willy
Sportin’ shrunken lily
KellyJane Superbeg
Win the game, show the leg
Sandy Candy
Not too dandy
Beachnymph scrapeape
Frictionwitch lacergrate
Fishydish squishywish
Krabknish quitedelish
On clear nights, if you wish
to toast to the man in the moon
with a glass of fine wine,
you will find no smile on his face.
He laughs no more,
barely conceals his tears
beneath his chalk-white make-up.
For him, pain and ecstasy
were mere shadow puppets
of a sense of happiness
which took a long time dying.
After the magic and mystery,
love, like inspiration,
hurried to the end.
He wishes not that pain be his alone,
no longer his sole possession.
Each nerve of his that winces,
he bequeaths to every one.
the rest of his life
now perches up there,
turned harlequin.
for all the world to see.
Harlequin is moody and sad
Columbine is acting crazy again
His behaviour was extremely bad
Readily accepting part of the blame.
Difficult Columbine plays hard to get
She's furious with his mad antics
Plotting revenge to make him regret
Before long she will have him frantic.
Harlequin decided he would make-up
He bought an expensive bouquet
Columbine looked and muttered yuck
She definitely has "feet of clay".
She's a mirror to the outside world
Prostetic porcelain girl
She appears as a rag doll torn
An honest case
Still born
Tried so hard to make the show
To condemn it all to hell
I guess I will never know
How to diminish the spell
Shrouded in the lucid dream
I will number the dead
You can never escape the clutches
Of my fragile Harlequin
Her mouth is a caddle for genocide
Hidden in this stitch
Laced in a smiling frown for me
Advertise innocence
How could it end like this
With all these fingerprints
Shrouded in the lucid dream
I will number the dead
You can never escape the clutches
Of my fragile Harlequin
Feeling daunted
I lay defeated
For everyone to see
Shrouded in the lucid dream
I will number the dead
You can never escape the clutches
Of my fragile Harlequin
Take your
Take your
Lobotomy
I know better than to be
I know I'm the last to leave
My shattered Harlequin
Young love shows,
youths true foolishness.
So desperate to be found,
in each other’s ignorance,
to often they drown.
Too quick to say forever,
too young to know the truth.
They place everything,
on the trust of another,
willing to die for what they
are not sure is even true.
They promise the future,
when they can’t control the present.
Say they will last,
when they don’t understand,
the inevitable anguish,
Of a harlequin romance.
To these imprudent people,
I do suggest, nay I do beseech.
Do not assume the future perfect,
Life is life, complications arise.
Hope for the best,
But for any challenge,
Be prepared to rise.
Unless, that is,
You want the world to think you fool,
In which case stand idle,
And continue,
On your false assumptions,
To everlastingly drool.
She's a mirror to the outside world
Prostetic porcelain girl
She appears as a rag doll torn
An honest case
Still born
Tried so hard to make the show
To condemn it all to hell
I guess I will never know
How to diminish the spell
Shrouded in the lucid dream
I will number the dead
You can never escape the clutches
Of my fragile Harlequin
Sweet aftertaste of genocide
Hidden in this stitch
Laced in a smiling frown for me
Advertise innocence
If I knew it'd end like this
There'd be no finger prints
Shrouded in the lucid dream
I will number the dead
You can never escape the clutches
Of my fragile Harlequin
Feeling daunted
I lay defeated
For everyone to see
Shrouded in the lucid dream
I will number the dead
You can never escape the clutches
Of my fragile Harlequin
Take your
Take your
Lobotomy
I know better than to be
I know I'm the last to leave
My shattered Harlequin