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April 30, 2012
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Circus

Come one, come all…
There's the curtain call…
Step inside; take a seat…
Before the circus is complete…

There are freaks contained in countless cages…
Always spiraling through series of turmoil, anger, and rages…
Lurking on the outskirts of some city called "sanity"…
But still within reach of mortals and their vanity…

Persuasive puppeteers pull apart society's strings and seams…
Dissecting the very fabric of His divine scheme…
Puppets and pawns congregate in the blink of an eye…
Waiting for the order: to march, kill, conquer, and forever comply…

The tightrope: deceivingly demonic…
Its most dangerous trait: it is so ironic…
After always longing to linger among the clouds in the sky…
You daydream one too many times, and soon Saint Peter greets you with a "Hi"…

The tightrope is simply another form of entertainment…
It looks like a death trap, but turns into containment…
Putting an end to any dreams that laid across the malignant wire…
Making the dreamers in the crowd look like hypocrites and liars…

Jugglers continue their never-ending routine…
Their limbs acting like well-oiled machines…
Everything on the juggler's mind is thrown around…
In an effort to keep it all from shattering upon ground…

But of course, no one can forget the clowns…
Those jokers who crave turning frowns upside down…
Miserable masochists of mockery; they're just as twisted as their balloon animals…
Deep down they're deteriorating and decaying; nothing within them is laughable…

Trapeze artists gently caress the sky…
Whispering in the wind, while Newton they defy…
Dreaming of one day soaring like an eagle or a dove…
Falling from the sky hurts less than falling out of love…

The acrobats rearrange their anatomies…
Attempting to fit the molds of yesteryear's casualties…
While widows weep over freshly folded flags…
The show goes on, oblivious to any body bags…

But take nothing away from the fire dancers…
This act ignites more questions than there are answers…
They literally risk their lives with every single show…
Maybe the flames are the only warmth their souls know…

The daredevil has stepped up onto the platform and is ready to go…
He prepares for the unexpected with a booming, "Watch out below"…
Such fearlessness is both admirable and disturbing in a paradoxical way…
But you have to wonder, "Does he simply want his heartbeat to fade away?"

Is he trying to play God and take his own life?
What type of emotional conflict could create such a level of strife?
Does the thought of his own existence haunt him like a ghost?
Or is he arrogant, and just enjoys being able to boast?

Why is it that they choose to live their lives like that?
Flames licking flesh and bracing their bodies for the inevitable splat…
Some have diagnosed it as a sick need for that "rush of adrenaline"…
But if their adrenaline is labeled as labor, is the emotion still genuine?

Where did he come from?  He wasn't there a minute ago…
Oh, that must be the magician starring in tonight's show…
While he's certain to have countless tricks up his sleeve…
It's all smoke and mirrors that help him to deceive…

Only he can make solid objects disappear and reappear…
Pulling things out of thin air, as the crowd can't help but to cheer…
"A true magician never reveals his secrets", he says with a smirk…
The crowd is speechless; for years their memories of magic will lurk…

Such variety, such characters, such a captivating show…
"Who has brought all this together?"  "We must know!"
Suddenly the spotlight illuminates one man standing in the center of the ring…
The ringmaster – the one who took all these fresh elements and created something…

He guides us from start to finish with each new act…
Maintaining the attention of crowd, keeping the show intact…
He is the backbone that keeps that the tent upright…
This is his vocation, his duty, and his eternal plight…

But who's to say he chose such a style of life?
Maybe he had dreams of a family, children, and a wife…
"But the show must go on", he was taught as a boy…
The only things that matter at day's end are profit and the crowd's joy…

Come one, come all…
There's the curtain call…
Step inside; take a seat…
Before the circus is complete…

By,
Alex Novotny
5/1/12
The circus that we call life.
Add a Comment:
 
:iconducttapeflipflops:
DuctTapeFlipFlops Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2012
I'm a tad confused at the meaning, but this is still an amazing poem!
Reply
:iconkingjellybelly:
kingjellybelly Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
I alluded to it in the description, but the image of the circus and the multiple careers that those within the tent have chosen are symbolic of the everyday personalities of the people on the street. The daredevil, the trapeze artist, the clowns, the magician, the puppeteers, the acrobats, etc. The remainder touches on the challenges of everyday life, such as: the tightrope, the freaks in cages, the overwhelming anxiety of the ringleader's heritage, etc. Try re-reading after reading my reply. See if it makes more sense the second time 'round. :)
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:iconducttapeflipflops:
DuctTapeFlipFlops Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2012
Oh, I see it now! Sorry. ^^;
Thanks!
Reply
:iconjaylayson:
Jaylayson Featured By Owner Jun 19, 2012
Nice
Reply
:iconkingjellybelly:
kingjellybelly Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you very much for the favorite also. May I ask how you found it? It's been on here for a while now and I assumed it would just continue to collect digital dust. You're the first person to notice it in quite some time. Thank you again. :thanks:
Reply
:iconjaylayson:
Jaylayson Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2012
I did a search for trapeze. But this was amazing.
Reply
:iconkingjellybelly:
kingjellybelly Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Again, thank you very much. I'm glad you both found and enjoyed it. :)
Reply
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