Long Circus tent Poems
Long Circus tent Poems. Below are the most popular long Circus tent by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Circus tent poems by poem length and keyword.
Suspended with roses, a garter and courage.
Her wispy white costume blows in the breeze.
Silky vibrations as she sways her bodice —
the Rapunzel-princess of the swinging trapeze.
Brunette hair and outfit bound with pearls and lace.
High with Magellanic clouds, marvelous outlander of earth.
Slender fingers wrapped around the seraphic twine.
Daughter of the heavens, from the day a trouper gave birth.
One...two...three, the excitement sounds, the air surfeits
about like maddening faerie dust. The open sky burns
with eccentric flame - crowd applauding like cherry bombs.
The darling of the sky, entices every cent she earns.
This rapturous virgin makes love to the dawn.
Her stupendous feat goes on and on, drawing
in oohs and ahhs...the climax as her knees
hang vaingloriously from the seat, outlawing
the silver and gold wings that flutter about
outside the circus tent, as this beauty shines
upside-down like an albinotic bat, frenetically
stirring the breeze… waving from the vines.
7/29/2019
With the crack of my whip the roar of the crowd fell silent
But the roars of the beasts reverberated throughout the circus tent
I was the new Lion Tamer, and I had seven lions under my spell
Was it an illusion?, I wondered, but could anyone tell?
These lions could attack at any time, but on that thought I didn't dwell
As music played, the first trick was completed, now on to the next
I noticed a lion that seemed eager to get his regal respect..
He charged very quickly... I barely had time...
But a crack of my whip kept the ferocious feline in line
The crowd roared... so far everything was going fine
Next time he charged I wasn't as quick
He clamped down on my hand!, and this was no trick
After they sprayed him with water, I was released by the beast
Before of me, he had made a feast...Good Grief!
Humbled and bloodied, but alive, I breathed a sigh of relief
My stint as a Lion Tamer would be no less than brief!
The Chinese dragon was filling up the sky
I stared as he travelled, faster than most clouds
He bumped into a lamb and a frog; they scooted.
Grayer now, he makes a viable storm cloud
I marvel at his swiftness to getting somewhere
His ability to change the dynamics of the sky
He is recruiting other clouds now,
He has turned them into a flying gray circus tent
Within ten minutes, the sky is deepening her darkness.
I search for my umbrella, anticipating the rain we need
Alas, the clouds move to the west, giving another state rain.
I am left with a blue sky, thinking of the Chinese dragon.
suddenly from somewhere, a street urchin
an untamed bird of the wider sky
dropped down into the circus tent.
before him unfurled, scenes eerie, awesome!
soaring lions and tigers, gibbering baboons,
caravans of camels, animal tamers and acrobats,
artists balancing on poles,
swinging from bars to trapeziums,
pliant girls with plastic limbs and pouting breasts,
walking on tightropes.
a strange world with beasts and men!
his face painted white.
in motley dress, he was arrayed,
and a tall tapering cap placed
on his forcibly tonsured head.
he hardly knew what it all meant.
he heard the bells ringing
and it was time for the show.
he was told; he would henceforth be a clown
and should make people laugh.
* * * *
a thousand sunsets passed him by.
he forgot the familiar alleys of the streets.
lost sight of the endless pathways of the sky.
lost in a world,
so populous- so empty.
he buried him, in the hidden caverns of himself,
nursing a hundred bruises
inflicted by Time’s sharp razors.
a stranger to himself.
at times, tears long held back,
would trickle down, moistening his pillow
as he lay listening to the inner ravings of his heart.
often, he was reminded-
‘you should make others laugh’
he did make people laugh
while a fountain of tears still lay frozen,
in the slivers of his broken heart.
SUMMER HEAT AND HUMIDITY
UNDER A COOL AND SHADY TREE
REMMINISCING THE DAY'S EVENTS
UNDER THE BIG TOP OF THE CIRCUS TENT
COLORFUL FACE'S OF SILLY CLOWNS
ACROBATS FLYING HIGH ABOVE GROUND
LITTLE DOGS AND BIG ONE'S TOO
A FUNNY CLOWN WITH REAL BIG SHOES
ELEPHANTS TIGERS EVEN A LION
A SCARY CLOWN KEPT BABIES CRYING
LITTLE KIDS, BIG KIDS
WE CALL THEM ADULTS
WERE HAVING A BLAST
WATCHING SUMMERSAULTS
ROLLING AND TUMBLING
JUMPING THROUGH HOOPS
A CUTE LITTLE CLOWN
WAS SHOVELING POOP
LOVED THE VOICE
OF THE DAPER RING MASTER
WHO KEPT EVERYTHING GOING
AND AVOIDED DISASTER
Feast your eyes, ladies and gents,
on the spotlight, high up in the circus tent.
We cross our fingers, hoping, in our fright,
our hero stays on the tightrope tonight.
Wait, that man's sixty-six years old,
and he has nary a muscle to behold.
He doesn't not look so very brave
as he gives the crowd a sheepish wave.
His cholesterol is on a slippery slope -
too much butter, and he falls off the rope.
One more sweet? Oops, his sugar level!
Who offered it? It was the devil.
He's between a hard place and a rock.
Watch as he tries to put on his sock.
He's taking quite the frightening risk
of herniating another disc.
He climbs into his car with confusion.
All this traffic could lead to one more contusion.
The thought raises the pressure of his blood.
Oh my, will he fall down with a thud?
An impact of that intensity
would spell trouble with his bone density.
Each step he takes is filled with fear
as he clings to his health so dear.
Feast your eyes, ladies and gents,
on the spotlight, high up in the circus tent.
We cross our fingers, hoping, in our fright,
all of us on this tightrope tonight.
I was not in the mood for fishing
though i brought all the gear and
Settled into my comfortable mode
Of tranquil bliss by the edge of the pool
But you being the older wiser trout
Stirred the stillness of the pool
Your proud fin cutting the surface
Like a sharpened tool waning and listing
Your tail following as you flung yourself
Like a trapeze artist with an invisible swing
The tree branches hung low overhead
Like a circus tent and i with a front rose seats
Watched in awe and surprise
As if every fish scale glittering in the sun
Was a diamond and with your final splash
As you arched your torso and disappeared
Beneath the blanket of water I cried
Tears of joy of love tears of joy of loss
And tears of joy of being serenaded by
A voiceless wise old trout
Her spouse wise or unwise, who can tell. Does he dream in midnight hues? Oh why doesn’t he wake up, or at least spit out that last sleeping pill. He might choke on it. The still of the night rattled by the movement of the boundary, like a lion’s hungry stomach. The moon roars creating goosebumps, pricks upon tender white skin. She barely breathes. Did anyone leave snacks inside this circus tent… Please...please...please. Helplessly she lies as the khaki quavers, heart frantic. She’s never thought herself mad, but like in a Poe story, the tell-tale… She imagines the lion with reflective eyes, baring full gums, toying with her...this is no cuddly kitten. Would her full-sandman spouse wake up, wonder where she’d gone, as the kindly sunlight blinded him to the truth. The truth is she would kill him, if only he’d open his eyes. Could she forgive him… At long last, darts race toward the roaming moon...she imagines that ghastly animal tumbling underneath the skirt, landing at her feet, swirling dust, an incomplete thought as the ferocious tongue lolligags onto her bag. Her husband smiles and turns over satisfied as he kisses his dream wife, moaning with pleasure; danger the last thing on his mind, as the hunters drag away the predator whose smell lingers in the morning coffee, the cigarette’s ash, the wife’s nostrils. And all the community can do the next morning is make fun of the snoring gun, the gray-haired spoon, and midnight adventure.
the pile of gumdrops
sparkle like dew for kitty
here kitty...kitty
11/2/2020
In stoic carnival, emotions juggle,
laughter somersaults on a tightrope of reason.
Epictetus, ringmaster, dons a clown's nose,
philosophy as whimsical sideshow.
Stoicism, circus tent of paradox,
where the lion tamer wrestles inner beasts.
The trapeze of fate swings on absurdity,
as three Moirai perform an acrobatic feat.
Seneca's stoic beard, a magical illusion,
transforms into a confetti-spewing waterfall.
Cynicism rides a unicycle of cosmic irony,
while Zeno's paradox becomes a funhouse mirror.
In a carnival of wisdom turned wild,
stoicism pirouettes on the edge of the bizarre.
Life's absurdities, the grand finale,
a cosmic joke echoing in stoic guffaws.
The Alex Joneses among us
As we are coming up to Christmas, which is a feast
for the advertisers, and it is impossible turning
or switching on the radio or TV without getting an earful of sentimental songs flung at morning tired
adults before the first cup of coffee
PS. There was a time when one could write: a cup of coffee and a cigarette, we are glad tobacco is no longer
in our mind and body. Here someone is clearing throats
but find it best not to comment
A right-wing Christian and conspiracy theorist has been
allowed into Tweeter, X, and this has made the official
Press into a knot of outrage.
Elon Musk has done us a service by letting his Twitter be
a place for the burning questions to be aired.
Yes, at the same place where the perfectly awful
vulgarian and bigoted interviewer, Piers Morgan, spews
his opinions, for many who see him as a spokesperson
for despicable lies and shallow thinking
He is tolerated and has many fans among those who do
not reflect upon his utterings.
As for Alex Jones, a famous radio host, who has a theory of so many things and many of his views involve Jews, a group of people who hold American Politicians in a fateful grip of corruption and the weaponizing of
the Holocaust and in its holy name, special privileges
In Europe, Alex Jones is not well known I think he is
seen as an outspoken Billy Graham, a man I once saw
in the late fifties, preaching under a circus tent to
thousands of applauding Norwegians, many of whom thought he looked like Wild West Cowboy.
The good thing about an outlet like Twitter it gives
those with views contrary to the officials have a place
to air their opinions, without being branded a ban