I'm sitting here with my dog Joey (Jack Russell Terrier...doesn't sit still very often) reading some of the posts and thinking how fortunate I am to be feeling pretty well today. Sometimes I get discouraged, feeling my life is totally out of control. When I was a kid I was scared of carnival rides that went around in circles...even the merry-go-round. I got stuck on a tilt-a-whirl once and got sick. The guy who ran kept starting it up again because there was no one in line and everyone wanted another free ride. Anyway, RA to me is like being stuck on a ride going round and round and just wanting to get off. This poem says a lot about how I feel; maybe you can relate to it. I like the ending. It makes me feel good!
The Merry-Go-Round
By
The carnival tiptoed in on a dark summer’s night
Unloading its cargo of laughter and fright.
Amidst whispering and hushed muttering
It grew a soul and became a living thing.
Bathed by the dawn’s yawning sun, it’s heart warmed,
Inviting all; with glee they swarmed
Through corridors of laughing clowns
With plastic smiles and sagging frowns.
The air shrieked with laughter, rampaging torrents
That swirled through rows of gaudy tents.
Through cracks in the laughter came the melancholy sound
Of an ancient, neglected merry-go-round.
Ancient planks creaked and sprang hopefully
Against my weight as I stepped gingerly
Across the deck and reached to feel
Shiny painted tails of horses impaled on steel.
Their eyes flared, with fire that burned beneath
The painted shells adorned with yellowed teeth,
Inspiring fear, or perhaps amusement,
Confronted by passion long spent.
Ancient joints creaked as I pulled myself high,
Settled into the polished saddle with a sigh;
Laughing voices became muted and faint,
As if in the presence of a holy saint.
Lurching forward with playful glee, the ride began;
Chipped hooves pawed the air as horses ran
Through sluggish wind that whistled by my ears,
Drowning out the beating of my fears.
The jarring sounds of calliope notes
Swept by on wooden coffin boats
That drifted through memories long dead
Emanating from my throbbing head.
I cried a tear or two as images lurched by
Distorted by hopeful choices gone awry,
Imprisoned on this old merry-go-round
Rotating aimlessly through tired squeaking sound.
Around and around and around and around,
Levitated above the blurring ground,
Holding tight to the rising and settling pole
That seemed to plumb the depths of my soul.
After awhile, I grew tired of endless repetition,
Each scene repeated, with admonition
To heed each sermon, preached with fire,
Consuming dreams on a burning pyre.
I wanted only for the ride to stop,
To disembark and cast my lot
With the living voices, muted singing,
Echoing through my mind, endlessly ringing.
It would not stop, or even slow,
Endlessly circling, a nauseous glow,
Flaring brightly in dead horse eyes,
Crashing soundlessly on a sea of sighs.
And so…I let go,
Drawn by the current of the river’s flow,
Silently cleansing my mind’s confusion
The merry-go-round became illusion.
A dream that faded with the night
As the dawn burned bright,
Voices sang, an angelic choir;
My God is a consuming fire.
The fire sucked death from withered dreams,
A smell of burning flesh and screams,
A sacrifice to free my tortured soul,
Release my bonds and make me whole.
I awoke in a silent meadow,
Bathed in the amber morning glow,
Reflections of a fire that burned inside,
Filling the spaces where demons died.
The carnival left town that night,
Sweeping away the last crumbs of fright;
Tattered posters swirled through empty streets,
Shadowy memories of imagined feats.
Suddenly the brilliant image of a child’s face
Inflated to fill each crack and space
Of my tortured mind,
Leaving the darkness behind.
I climbed the steps, opened the door,
Walked silently across the carpeted floor,
Stumbled on objects old and new
That suddenly sprang into view.
An inner door creaked slowly open,
Toys scattered by a broken playpen,
In a bed, the child sleeping…alone;
It’s good to be home.
I hope reading my rambling thoughts at least distracted you from some of the pain your endure for a while. It can really help to share some of those deep thoughts and feelings.
I hope your find peace in your life,
Alan
Absolutely beautiful and yes, I needed this tonight.Alan, That was truly beautiful. Your writing is a wonderful gift.
Have you had anything published? I really hope so. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and feelings with us!
Many Blessings,
Nini
Thanks for your kind comments.
No, I haven't published anything. Poetry is not in great demand these days. Too bad...perhaps our culture is just too materialistic to sit still long enough to ponder the deeper mysteries of life.
Alan
PS: OK, I admit it...I replied partly to pull the post up to the top one last time. Alan, I do not blame you for pulling it up to the top. It is
beautiful Alan! What a wonderful gift you have and I do agree
that people are too materialistic and what a waste.
Please share all of your poems with us Alan.
Thanks!
Alan, What lovely work.Thank you for sharing it with us. I like your analogy between RA and a ferris wheel. I can definitely relate.
Alan, it is good enough to publish. This is the lifetime in which to do that. Yeah, you might not make much off of it, but what a legacy you may leave behind. Some of our favorite poets never made much either. But how empty the landscape of our lives if they hadn't published.
There's something special in you to write such things. Share with the world.