Carousel

I took a ride
on a Merry-Go-Round
in the dark, while a crowd gathered
in the shadows, whispering,
eyes painting me all things
thoughts could imagine
while only the brave — or perhaps the eager,
chose to dip their brush in my ink
and taste the essence
of poetry in the making.
 
I bedded down in the hollows
beneath the carousel,
where the glow of diffuse light
sifting through the veil
kissed my skin
and tales of unspoken pleasures
were written in tongues,
 
And behind an open door
I laid myself bare
to be read in a different light,
an unspoken invitation
to turn the pages of this book 
and leave a mark in the margins scribing
I was here, I read
and I am 
the next unwritten verse
 
I counted to twenty
and stepped into the night,
a mere whisper on the tips of their tongues
my name but a mystery,
my recital fading into the memories 
of those who came, 
for I belong to none of them,
but every poem ever written
is etched on the palm of your hand
 
With nothing left but the placard 
still hanging on the window  —
“poetry reading tonight”
I press my lifeline against yours and whisper   
take me home
and read me




june 2011





Awarded by Poetic Constellations ~ Bri




Awarded by Poetic Constellations ~ Cherri ~ June 26, 2011