from within the universe
of smoke-filled rooms
and blaring jazz music
comes the artificial laughter
of a child named man
who rides round-and-round
on a carousel called life
who is forced to ride
until he grabs the brass ring
of death
a grotesque carousel ride…and yet at the same time oddly appealing, playing jazz every night would be so fulfilling. Or writing poems…. As always, I enjoy reading your work. Thanks.
From within the universe of night-filled rooms, and suffocating scents, and tears screeching onto mirrors and blades, comes the solitary laughter of a beast called woman, who burns round and round on a funeral pyre called dawn, who is forced to burn until she casts off the carousel of man.
Charlie, you switched to your sad mood my friend:(
Or probably I am just projecting on you, my fear of growing old and dying:(
I feel conflicted feelings in your poem: Child/man
life, laughter, carousel, ride/death.
I just want to believe that life is made of laugh and fun ride….
Thank you for the lovely inspiring poem Charlie!
My first impression of this poem is like it’s a scene out of a sci-fi novel – sorta Douglas Adams Restaurant at the end of the Universe. Maybe because the jazz and carnival atmosphere of the life in this poem makes it sound more fun than real life often really is? If that makes sense
This is serious storytelling. But it takes all kinds. And the visual art grabbed me immediately. I’ve always loved black and white art. It’s very powerful, and it fits this poem.
So, Charles,
I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I assume you purchased the videopress upgrade so you can use adobe flash player?
You are way ahead of me. I had thought about it, in order to upload an occasional youtube, or image, but not for mp3 voice recordings. Well, it’s working out just great on your blog. I really enjoy hearing you read your poetry. Keep it up!
compulsion, cyclical nature, round and round, repetition, eternity…
i love how those ideas were exploited in the poem…
death (not only physical death, but the death of anything that used to be) is an opportunity — a brass handle that when grasped leads to another place/situation/state… in that way, what at first appears to be finite (life) is really infinite…
thanks for the visit to my blog, the image is striking and the words powerful in your post.
Interesting how the character in the poem would love to get out of the carousel of material existence, and grab a ring to take him somewhere maybe beyond the portal death??
Read Between the Minds 
really like this visual
a grotesque carousel ride…and yet at the same time oddly appealing, playing jazz every night would be so fulfilling. Or writing poems…. As always, I enjoy reading your work. Thanks.
U rightly said “….who rides round-and-round
on a carousel called life…”
Unfortunately very few bothers to think beyond
Satyakam.
From within the universe of night-filled rooms, and suffocating scents, and tears screeching onto mirrors and blades, comes the solitary laughter of a beast called woman, who burns round and round on a funeral pyre called dawn, who is forced to burn until she casts off the carousel of man.
Charlie, you switched to your sad mood my friend:(
Or probably I am just projecting on you, my fear of growing old and dying:(
I feel conflicted feelings in your poem: Child/man
life, laughter, carousel, ride/death.
I just want to believe that life is made of laugh and fun ride….
Thank you for the lovely inspiring poem Charlie!
Deep poem. Makes me think of art, how it can create a universe of it’s own, and yet at times seem futile when giving one’s life to it. Great imagery.
So very true. After an age this really becomes a truth for most of the time, so rarely do we laugh from heart and soul.
Good one.
Well….I say keep riding and let someone else grab it! lol 🙂 Good one! Have a great day writing.
Great poem, slp! Let’s enjoy the ride!
My first impression of this poem is like it’s a scene out of a sci-fi novel – sorta Douglas Adams Restaurant at the end of the Universe. Maybe because the jazz and carnival atmosphere of the life in this poem makes it sound more fun than real life often really is? If that makes sense
This is serious storytelling. But it takes all kinds. And the visual art grabbed me immediately. I’ve always loved black and white art. It’s very powerful, and it fits this poem.
So, Charles,
I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I assume you purchased the videopress upgrade so you can use adobe flash player?
You are way ahead of me. I had thought about it, in order to upload an occasional youtube, or image, but not for mp3 voice recordings. Well, it’s working out just great on your blog. I really enjoy hearing you read your poetry. Keep it up!
compulsion, cyclical nature, round and round, repetition, eternity…
i love how those ideas were exploited in the poem…
death (not only physical death, but the death of anything that used to be) is an opportunity — a brass handle that when grasped leads to another place/situation/state… in that way, what at first appears to be finite (life) is really infinite…
nicely done!
Thanks for coming over to my blog and commenting! I really appreciate it. 🙂
Your blog looks very interesting and I look forward to reading more of your posts.
This piece was just so very succinct and beautifully illustrated with a tiny reserve of words. Love it!
thanks for the visit to my blog, the image is striking and the words powerful in your post.
Interesting how the character in the poem would love to get out of the carousel of material existence, and grab a ring to take him somewhere maybe beyond the portal death??
I loved this poem, so great, amazing metaphor and diction.
Deep and profound……..laconic application of words. Awesome piece of poetry !! Thanks for visiting my page.
I like the merging of metaphors here. Like the imagery. Like the truth of it. And Thank you!