Every time i am down and depressed,
My hand pickes up the razor,
As I stared at the razor blade inside that shelf, so satisfying. The bright lights in that bathroom casted my stare over the silver blade. My mind continues to say, "This may be the last time, if you finally cut deep enough."
So I try my best not to make a sound
Heart pounding,My mind fills with thoughts like a marry go around-I am so confused,
what to do next? Do I spare myself another day? Is that the easy way out or is it just my thoughts on that marry go round?
I just dont know what to do!
"If you don’t do it now then you’ll never do it for yourself." These words repeated in my head and just like that the sound of little feet come running down the hall and out the bathroom I go.
We'll have to start over
Because we no longer exist,
I'm in LOVE and in PAIN with that razor blade
IRAN, WE WILL, POUND
TRUMP IRAN, MERRY-GO-ROUND
HELICOPTER DOWNED
the merry-go-round horses are a bit off today
dancing and prancing their hooves in a clever way
even the children realize something is amiss
as they turn and blow each other a child-like kiss
I hang on to my steed, loving this carousel so
will he jump off and over the hill next go?
I am bouncing and pouncing, laughing too
I have already lost my hat, a sock and a shoe.
his OCD merry-go-round
is noticeable all around
repeated behaviors over and over
tearing up dandelions and clover
polishing table twenty-three times
recounting once again his tin of dimes
repeated efforts are automatic
familiar patterns, nothing unexpected or sporadic
Like a Merry-go-Round
While we all keep spinning
Does our circle of life
Have a way to get off?
hear the sound
found a way
stand on ground
earthbound stay
no playground
The rusted Ferris wheel, a skeletal hand,
Points to a sky it can no longer command.
Once, laughter echoed, joy on the breeze,
Now silence reigns, whispered by the trees.
The carousel horses, their paint chipped and worn,
Dream of merry-go-rounds, of days yet unborn.
Once, children squealed, clinging to their steeds,
Now shadows dance, where happy laughter bleeds.
The cotton candy stand, its windows cracked and dim,
Holds the ghost of sweetness, a forgotten whim.
Once, sugary clouds, a magical delight,
Now only dust motes, swirling in the light.
The roller coaster track, a metal serpent curled,
Whispers of thrills, a forgotten world.
Once, screams of delight, a dizzying race,
Now only rust and wind, in this silent space.
The park stands empty, a monument to time,
A reminder of moments, once so sublime.
The ghosts of laughter, echo in the breeze,
Whispering of memories, of happy, carefree days.
So sad to part with one so close to my heart;
But you had to mount that mad Merry-Go-Round.
I said from the start, your persona is art;
You must be seen and must see each sight and sound.
Yet, I had to live quietly, and apart;
Though 'tis joy, each round, to see you from firm ground.
One day, when your horse heads my way, dearest friend,
One of us will be gone, as all things must end.
A small hand tugs fingers -
my son and I,
plus 30 time-traveling years –
both of us pulling together for once.
The wooden horses spin,
just missing each other
by decades.
An appaloosa stomps the air.
"Look daddy the spotty one leaps highest!"
Little fingers spring open, gallop away
toward the carousel.
A five-year-old boy lifts me,
onto the smooth saddle,
holds me tight,
as a memory goes around again.
Merry-go-round skeleton with a birdcage on your head
How dare you come back from the land of the dead?
You are skinny as always; you were never well-fed.
We are tired of your antics, please return to the dead.
Opportunities missed by the score
never to come 'round anymore
Each time my knees shudder and knock
clanging tick of the circus clock
I take a chance, climb on the merry-go-round
frowning, the smile of the clown
Thru the eyes of a child where newness abounds,
the magical lure of the merry go round..
It's piped in repetitious sound entices
spectators all around..
"Choose your seat" says a ticketer at the gate.
Large steel poles anchor in the animals fate.
Painted horses methodically go up and down
with hoofs that never meet the ground..
Mermaids, tigers, and other beasts, co-exist
here, all in peace..
Thru the eyes of a child what a fantasy feast.
"Let's go one more time at least?"
Many carnival rides take my breath away
Shake my brains, and cause a lightning rod of fear
Some make my lunch come up, lurching and screaming.
But the Merry-Go-Round is my favorite.
For this is where I remember waving to my grandparents.
And my aunts and uncles, maybe mom and dad were there too.
I do not remember that part, as they were always around.
Life's a merry-go-round
Sun-up, sundown
It paints the town ~
Laughs like a clown
You are in your prime, and I’m in my clime;
Why sweetie in twenty then we waste this time?
Come, dance; we can gently our pleasures hound,
For here’s a time for us to go merry-go-round.
Run around, and you’ll see how flowers bloom
And drones fly around wanting for some room;
Birds, herds, and all love while their time is high,
So come sweetie; in delay, our prime will sigh.
Moon smiles and night palls a velvet blue veil,
And owls and curlews hail with a flirting tale;
Xylophones and cymbals bounce for our dance,
So come sweetie; let’s dive in a hypnotic trance.
March 11, 2021
ALL YOURS (Mar 12) Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: Brian Strand
Aug. 16, 2020
*A 1st Place* in the following contest (judged on Aug. 27, 2020)
A Time For Us
Sponsor: JCB Burl
I rode that memory once before,
Galloping down child lane once more,
Fleeting past some faces I have known,
Some buried treasures I have out grown.
Dad waving in his tweed suit and hat,
On days out with me he would wear that,
Tears fill my eyes as I wave him back,
fleeting carriages lost on time track.
Every memory rides a gold horse,
Some gilded rich and some gilded sparse,
moments spent in continuing chase,
Some bright as day, some cloudy haze.
Carousel picture prompt
Eve Roper contest
01/April/2020
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.