Long Tightropes Poems
Long Tightropes Poems. Below are the most popular long Tightropes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tightropes poems by poem length and keyword.
Dr. Goo Goo lives in the clouds with God
Follow his instructions to the T when sick
Take two aspirin and call him in the morning
Right now is good. Never is even better
Fevers come with a cough and a quack
Not all doctors are created equal
Some live under rocks or bridges
Deliver babies when not playing golf
Goo Goo wears a mask at Sunday services
Performs surgery on high wires at circuses
Sports the letter G on white pajamas
As a reminder; Who is God and who is not
Surgery on tightropes, scalpel between the teeth
Comes easy with his degrees of certain certainty
With expertise he keeps patients in stitches
But do not laugh when asphyxiated
When the doctor falls do not applaud
Audiences should stay in their seats
For no particular reason
Safety nets and parachutes get lost
Dr. Goo Goo fixes us before we go wrong
Before we return back to ash and dust
From that stuff, primordial goo called humans
Who come with medical and dental plans included
"Logos"
always there
walking tightropes
beside me
pre-existent
logos walking
parting
waves in air
I turn my back
on eyes that speak
lost knowledge imprint
I turn my back
on recalcitrant
childhood dreams
I turn around ;
you,
the shadow
still seen
a ghost
haunting
persistent
remain
still there,
as if
in dream
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
klb, mlb
gvlm
“Logos” / Ludovico Einaudi
https://youtu.be/teq60vwY7g0
a pen dipped in blood
as is a robe
so writes a mind
now is unrobed
Logos
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Logos_(Christianity)
https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Logos
Logo
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Logo
The Greatest Show on Earth - Two
Mr. Pik lived alone, across our street
All the kids knew him, dressed up so neat;
Mr. Pik loved the circus – every kind -
Each year, in our mailbox, tickets, we’d find;
Finally the night came and none too soon
Excitement growing by light of the moon
Girls dressed in dresses – shoes – patent leather
Boys in bow ties – no matter the weather.
Families scrunched in old station wagons
Sounding just like an asthmatic dragon;
First came the clowns with red funny noses
Squirting the crowd – water from fake, roses;
Next, the acrobats riding sleek horses,
Purples plumes on their heads – never off course;
Walkers on tightropes leaving us breathless –
Covered our eyes, watching never the less;
Finally the last act – our hearts would seize -
Daring young man on the flying trapeze;
A rollicking, boisterous evening of mirth
Mr. Pik’s gift – the greatest show on earth.
5-10-21
Contest: Rhyming Couplets
Sponsor: Janice Canerdy
Every year our neighbor, Mr. Pik – a widower – would treat the neighborhood to a night at the circus.
"Intermission: Flutterby Reveille"
Impromptu like a moth
pale words flutter out of his
psychodelic mind
curious funny flutterby…
for a second then, I didn't move,
deadpan, I said,
"... try again with some panache, some style"
incredulously, I smiled,
he's tripping guitar leads
counting long-tooth years
and numbers between drum beats
here no rest for the wicked, we...
hear pretty worded poets
walk on tip toe
balancing wet bars
on bipolar tightropes
shaking up and banging upside down
all the pretty snowglobes
In his land of silent muses
driving as he wrote
Singing “Every Little Breeze Seems to Whisper Louise's”
Pushing the envelope
aside, he writes,
retirement is a caged zoo
he gets high on cryptic puzzles
and cracking her
Sudoku
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
Breakfast Reveille:
The Angels, “Take a Long Line”
https://youtu.be/4LdZAK2Rfkg
The Angels, “Rhythm Rude Girl”
https://youtu.be/4bWsbCpCwOg
The Angels, “Rhythm Rude Girl”
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/angels/rhythmrudegirl.html
The Greatest Show on Earth
Mr. Pik lived alone, across our street -
All the kids knew him, dressed up so neat;
Mr. Pik loved the circus – every kind -
Each year, in our mailbox, tickets, we’d find;
So much excitement - growing every day -
Circus, the topic, when we went to play.
We watched the clock tick away afternoon -
Finally night came - for us none too soon.
Girls dressed in dresses - shoes - patent leather -
Boys in bow ties - no matter the weather;
Families scrunched in old station wagons -
Sounding just like an asthmatic dragon;
Seven miles from the big top we could taste
Popcorn and peanuts, oh please, do make haste;
Ladies and gentlemen, look here and see
The ringmaster pointed us to ring three;
First came the clowns with red funny noses
Squirting the crowd – water from fake roses;
Next, the acrobats riding sleek horses,
Purples plumes on their heads – never off course;
Lions and tigers - elephants, oh my -
Animals exotic paraded by;
Walkers on tightropes left us all breathless –
Covered our eyes, watching never the less;
Finally the last act – our hearts would seize -
Daring young man on the flying trapeze;
Sleepy eyes closing on the ride home -
Night at the circus so like a poem;
Rollicking, boisterous evening of mirth
Mr. Pik’s gift – the greatest show on earth.
Every year our neighbor, Mr. Pik - a widower - would treat the neighborhood to a night at the circus.
I know thought has changed about having wild animals in the circus but in my childhood they were a part of the show.
5/2/20
I saw blue memoirs fell from momma's eyes, as she looked into my brown retinas. Swiftly she removed my medicated glasses, a dominant gene I carved out from papa's bottled eyes. "Oh! sorry D!," She whispered! "Its just a matter of time new sores become old sores and grow to mature into scars" she cried as she looked into my eyes. Eventide dawned upon us like golden mist as I was flown into the nurses moonlit; in a bird with twinkling red optical, double paired rubber legs, iron facials. The nurses at stand dished us mother care attention. Ice dangled in her eyes. Momma is smiling joy painfully at me. As I stole
a look at her brown embattled face, I pictured her retinas glued to drenches. The ice now fell from her eyes. With my octopus years, my feet has trod this egg shaped earth.
And the world seemed to pass so swiftly on me like a shutter's speed. I could see the skyline walking on the tightropes of my memories, like flashbacks in a cinema film, laying on
this medic bed. My belly could only be facing down while my electrified toasted back kissed the wind escaping in through the casement.---yak!!!!
And the only mirror I could have afforded to reflect my per boiled back is my momma's pair of brown camera eyes, but here they are ice dank. I thought. It could be fun and warmly, laying on the pressing iron, left on the bed in our unisex room, after long being used by aunt Lydia. I couldn't tell its degrees with my brownie eyes. But my steamed back did, so it kissed it metal surface---and here we are, " In a toast of roastful love,' underneath nurses moonlit with
my mauve skin.
And the needles! o no! I hated needles. Two prickles a day!, yahhhk! my bum bum like Evans rickety bike. I heard Evans my best pal crying along in the neighborhood, while I was being rushed into the medic bird. With his grey coloured panties, hung on his waist like tarzan.
He did be jerking bitterly. I and Evans jolly good mates had known each other since the neighborhood old. His curly dark hair, and owl eyes tells you he is indian...
An excerpt from my book " momma's camera eyes"
29/4/2022
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.
The blind and the weary, are up from the trenches
To climb into chaos, they'll walk across tightropes
where no one has noticed the ebb and the sway
Now lost in the fury, they are mixed in the slurry
where mindless distraction has swallowed the day
They scatter their money on things that won't matter
Like hunters, they gather, checking their watches
Shattering silence with small satisfaction
No cause for reflection, and nothing to say
Searching for something. At what price the glory
While nothing of value, piles high to the rafters
Tumbling downward, into cobwebs and corners
Cracking the shell of a world that is hollow
leaving behind only yokes that are gray
______________________________________________________
For Contest Sponsored By Silent One "A Poem About A Song"
Based on the Song: "Mad World" 5/24/17
We were visiting good old Niagara Falls, the most beautiful place on earth. With its waterfall cadences and fresh lit sun, who could ask for anything more. Hand in hand we strolled together wearing summer sandals light as air. We talked and spoke of days to come, how we'd make a family together some day.
Lovers in love
two linen gloves
fitted just right
There were acrobats, jugglers on tightropes, and children rippling the air with their tinkling laughter. Together we aimed at little yellow ducks and won the grand prize. Hugging Mrs. Jewel Bug, we walked away kissing beneath a bluest sky dappled with cotton candy clouds and morning sighs. Since we stayed longer than expected, we stopped by a little Cafe and drank frothy cappuccinos to our hearts content.
full-fledged memories
golden colored hours
days gone by
Those were the days of impulsive escapades, endless surprises and pleasant up-comings. Moments of mindlessness existence in a lifetime yet to be unspun. Today the mortgage is paid and the children left home. My favorite juggler is in heaven waiting for an old tattered Jewel bear and a swollen gal with a heart pliable as ghee. I smile at the thought that one day I will join him. We'll drink foamy coffees and watch the trapeze artists spin, swing and fly. They will hang off ropes made of stars and moonbeams, just like us.
I chose to tell my Little Lie
To the world, and to a friend –
Just this once – myself I told –
And never more again
I spoke it nonchalantly
Yet – slowly – did exhale
My breathing thin and shallow
I struggled to inhale
It dropped into the Lap of Time
As if it there belonged
Perfect as the perfect chord
Within the perfect song –
At first ‘twas held in high regard
By Universal Sign
By Pundit and by Media
The praise was mine – all Mine!
For days I reveled – Revered! –
By throngs and multitudes
High upon my perch I sat
My claim to fame approved –
Though Grace and Fortune smiled on me
My Inner State – Rebelled –
-- Tightropes pale in mock compare
To Nerves so overwhelmed!
And then the sleight unraveled
‘Twas but a Blue Bird’s call
And then the Little Lie I told
With me – in flames – did fall