Word of the Day Challenge #52-Untitled Poem

Come one come all
we have no age restrictions
there are rides here for everyone.
Games to delight the young ones
Tunnel of Love
for all the wicked ones.
Blood red heart
valentine cartoon shape
pierced through with barbed arrow
can you see
the blood oozing from the hole
rather graphic is it not?
Canvas creaks
ropes strain
wind creeps up whistling
clown faces loll
dressed in frowns
back away
turn and run.
Skip through the darkness
heart raging in your chest
panic rising
squeals caught in your throat
do not look back for you shall see
there is no escape
they are gaining on you.
Welcome new comer 
join our dance
the Circus of Horrors 
crowds into your thoughts.
Raging fear
eyes rolling back
thunder cracks
lightening rolls against darkened skies
torrential downpour
peppers your skin
hail the size of golf balls
next you know
the grass arises.
Awaken silver collar around
weak
salivating
smell dark blood
old blood around
canine teeth
deep growl
part of the Circus you have become.
©August 27/19
Picture via Pinterst

Harlequin

***This poem is a continuation from River Styx, Desert Red and Waste/Safe Land
Peddler man
left me at the edge of the grassland
indicating
I was to meet the next guardian
through my travels
in this blindingly green world.
Abraded
flesh
soul
reborn
my heart was light
joyous even
as I followed the path.
I saw them before they saw me.
Soldiers gleaming gold
in burnished armour.
Squinting I move forward
to find myself surrounded
by men with pikes
with swords
desperation vivid on their faces
as they took me into custody.
Forced to kneel
before the Harlequin
believing
he was to be my next guide
I was caged
jailed
forgotten
for a small time.
Imperious Harlequin
an intricate dance for two
chained by his side
I sink into disrepair.
Sept. 16/17
Photo by elen aivali on Unsplash

Blind Men

‘I never lied!’

The headlines cried

when they decided to put him away.

Thinking that all he had to do

to change the world

was break it

than remake it

the way he saw it in his head.

All turned blind eyes

pretending not to see

the nefarious plots

he put into motion

dangers that he created

until finally

it could be ignored no more.

When the wild mad man

began to cut off the fingers in the pie

it was time for him to go.

‘I never lied’

he cried aloud

‘not once did I never speak true.’

And were one to go back

and read all the papers

they would read…..

he had announced

each and every one of his plans

they were just too blind to see.

**Picture via: Photo by Elijah O’Donell on Unsplash

 

The Mad King

Whatever could he want?

The Mad King screaming your name

from the rooftops.

Whatever could he want?

The Mad King peering in windows

and knocking on doors.

Whatever could he want?

This King who has no realm

only dirty dreams and ashes

bitter tastes all

within his mouth.

 

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

May 19/17