The burning Carousel
A fire raged in the darkness that resembled a postcard sent from hell
It was destroying the once beautiful vision that was the old town Carousel
Large striking white horses that in the past stood like angels in the night
Were all now fiercely burning as they cast an eerie sight
The smell of the charred wood and the plume of ash in the air
Left a tearjerking memory to the workers on the fair
A disturbing insight into mindlessness certain people possess
The flames rose in the air caused by those who couldn’t care less
Blistering heat was getting stronger with every hour that past
The sounds of loud sirens finally filled the air at last
Gone was the wonderful paintwork resembling times gone by
Now there were black patches that made the ancients cry
What now for the old Carousel?
With so many stories yet to tell
Categories:
paintwork, meaningful,
Form: Rhyme
I drop off my car in anticipation,
That it doesn’t require, complete restoration.
‘You’ll have it by two’ the young lady said
Then I am told it’s five thirty instead.
They text a report, the news is not good
Do I have to confirm? I am told that I should!
For the break pads are worn, the suspension is shot,
The tyres threadbare and the engine’s too hot.
The exhaust has a hole and the brake fluids low,
The clutch is a slipping and the wipers too slow,
The paintwork is poor and the bonnet is dented,
Should’ve had it in sooner, this could have been prevented.
It’s an arm and a leg when the invoice arrives,
Which I have to pay or my car I’m deprived!
Now the automobile’s a fairly recent invention,
But these service costs surely weren’t the intention!
Categories:
paintwork, car, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
New is just old
In a new dress,
Watch what unfolds
In paintwork guess.
Nothing on earth
Is really new,
It’s just re-birth
In a fresh stew.
All that you see
Is light and dark,
Truth comes to be
A dancing spark.
New thought hides old
In a clear mist,
New age once told
In a strange gist.
Poise in sure say
Seems new at first,
Sift through light rays
That age-old thirst.
As you know more
You cluster spice,
In a deep core
Love flings surprise.
Old words come forth
In brand new notes,
A surge up north
In timely vote.
Leon Enriquez
04 February 2018
Singapore
Categories:
paintwork, allegory,
Form: Quatrain
The Dishwasher’s Loaded
The dishwasher’s loaded,
The plates are all used,
The cups are all dirty and the plates all confused.
My clothes are all ragged,
My shoes scuffed and worn,
I’m in need of no revamp to replace all that’s torn.
The hoover is silent,
The dusters lie crushed,
The paintwork is cleaned and the TV’s been hushed.
My tanks are all empty,
My vehicles SORN’ed,
The MOT’s need update and insurance informed.
My mortgage has run,
My tax is all paid,
My bills have been cleared and ‘For Sale’ signs displayed.
The drawers are all empty,
I was running on fumes,
The past is all gone, each small bit consumed.
You need to reorder,
To restock the shelves,
You need to invest and replenish yourselves.
My race has been run,
My round had been played,
I shot level par and four birdies I made.
No need to cry,
No need to regret,
The world keeps on turning, it does not forget.
©Keith Murphy
Categories:
paintwork, blessing, change, family, future,
Form: Elegy
Is it any wonder that we want to scream and shout
but we hold it in so nicely, too scared to let it out,
running ragged round the clock, and slightly round the bend,
there's washing, ironing and dishes, whenever will it end.
Pulling on a rubber glove, straightening up a chair,
taking out the rubbish, clearing a plughole full of hair,
hoovering the carpet, another sticky bit of glue,
new drawings on my paintwork,
mind you its a very nice shade of blue!
Cleaning muddy footprints off the kitchen floor,
scrubbing chocolate fingerprints covering the door,
dusting all the pictures of the family i adore,
see its not that great a wonder,
because its never been a chore.
Categories:
paintwork, family,
Form: Lyric
He’d been too yellow to admit he was having an affair
Susie was seething and started screaming at his deception
She’d found long blonde hairs in her husband’s Cadillac car
Slowly she poured paint stripper over its ochre paintwork
Photo 3 Chosen – Contest Yellow Sponsored by Silent One
03~03~16
Categories:
paintwork, anger, betrayal, car,
Form: Free verse
With all the pomp and viscosity
The spectres flooding out a sepia
Screen of childish scribbles
Bleached into the paintwork
Autograph collections full of
Unknown people who achieve
Little seldom of and incomplete
Thereof from another Kings' Cross
Day passes with slurry flood
A thick crude oil slick settling
On the fester where love is love
But life always gets cat called trapped
Between a rockery and a conservatory
Greenhouse blossom stuck
Never growing, wilting into
Shoes and stirrups, the Valkyrie
Tide of blonde candlesticks burning
An empathetic subtitle in the
Bunting of promenade pretence
The man child turns to jump
Into canvas blues of money under pillow
Categories:
paintwork,
Form: Free verse