That first-morning swig washes
away the stain on the inside;
the parade of hearses and the
lovers lost to the carnival of life.
A few more swallows and
memory becomes nebulous.
Cumulus clouds form in
the brain, and the thoughts
float by, all fluffy, like cotton candy,
and fun-house safe.
In this twisted mirror
I see the tired eyes of
a clown who's not funny anymore;
just a ragged costume and a
jagged soul that is hungry for
sleep and dreams, a moment's reprieve.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 14th, 2024 00:17
- Comment from author about the poem: Check out my book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, and please check out my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: Bella Shepard
Offline)
Comments9
Great work, and vivid! It took me back to a poem I've written called "Clown"
Thank you so much.
no one aint gonna not understand where you got your inspiration from .. but few want to go there .. for real ..
Thank you, brother.
Powerful and so very beautifully written. 🌹
Thank you, Teddy.
May that reprieve come to you forever Thomas.
Andy
Thanks, Andy.
Good write T.
Another powerful poem, Thomas.
Thanks, Tom.
Eloquently chosen words to describe this state of being. It truly grabs the reader. Great write!
Thank you so much.
Vivid, as another commenter said above. I instantly saw the white of the clouds, which was soon swept away by the mirror-blended colours of the clown.
Thank you. Much appreciated.
Burnt out on senses, like a sigh of relief after a night at a New Orlean’s carnival. Vivid imagery, indeed!
Thank you so much.
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