This month’s Circus & Carnival playlist is as diverse and exciting as the circus itself. We have a variety of songs like Carnival Town by Norah Jones, to Lydia, the Tattooed Lady by Groucho Marx and Bing Crosby (Say, have you met Lydia?). As always, admission is free.
Try It
Can you remember the last time you visited a circus or a carnival? Close your eyes and let your imagination take you back to the different sounds you heard. Write a poem focused on the vibrant noise surrounding you. Try to include onomatopoeia to create a real whizz! bang! of a poem.
Featured Poem
Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. We enjoyed Donna’s rousing (and exasperated) mom-inspired shanty:
(To the tune of Blow the Man Down)
YO, MOM, IT WASN’T ME!
Yo, somebody took
all the forks from the drawer!
Yo, Mom, it wasn’t me!
The last set I bought made
the count 24!
Yo, Mom, it wasn’t me!
Don’t make me come up there!
Just bring them down, mate!
Yo, Mom, It wasn’t me!
And bring me the coffee cups,
bowls, every plate!
Yo, Mom it wasn’t me!
I’m hearing the sounds of
clank clinkety clack
Yo, Mom, it wasn’t me!
He’s carrying most of
my kitchen in fact.
Yo, Mom, it wasn’t me!
His brother, he claims,
by the light of the moon.
Yo, Mom, it wasn’t me!
Scattered the bounty
All over his room!
Yo Mom, it wasn’t me!
Photo by Ariane Hunter, Creative Commons via Flickr.
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Maureen says
Fun shanty, Donna!
Sometime ago, as in 2011, I wrote about Coney Island. And if that’s not a circus, I don’t know what is. Here’s the link to the ekphrastic poem:
http://writingwithoutpaper.blogspot.com/2011/01/overheard-at-coney-island-poem.html
Donna Z Falcone says
Thanks Maureen!
Your glimpse of Cony Island has a wonderful feel to it – so authentic in language and energy… and I laughed out loud at blockhead! Loved the tour!
Maureen says
Thanks so much for reading and commenting, Donna.
Truth be told, I avoid carnivals.
Rick Maxson says
Maureen, yes! The language in your Coney Island poem invoked the atmosphere and sounds one might hear on a boardwalk or circus. Loved the word play. 🙂
Maureen says
Thank you, Rick, for taking time to read and comment.
Heather Eure says
Ekphrastic poetry! Ideal for this kind of prompt. Wish I had thought of it. So glad you shared!
This is my favorite:
“Oh, I’d rather be at Brighton Beach if I can’t hang in
Luna Park. I rode the Cyclone a dozen times, stiffed up
at the Parachute Jump, oogled the Mermaid Parade.
Those cuties. They were some sight for tired eyes.”
I’ve never been to Coney Island but it sounds like the dozenth ride on the Cyclone. 🙂
SimplyDarlene says
We park in the dirt swirling
parched parking lot –
it used to be a wheat field
before her swaying golden tresses got buzz-cut
last week by farmer John’s clanking
whirring bladed metal combine.
My son runs ahead, I holler him
back to me –
(and grip his wrist tight) Stay by my side,
tonight the oddballs, the weirdoes, the people
of the city and those secret ones from deep in the woods
they’re all here.
Cool, momma!
I roll my eyes as I chatter and slather
mosquito repellent –
Little dude, horrors await us amid the silly antics of
poodles in skirts, men in tights who swing high, half-naked women
riding elephants, the jugglers of knives. Too yellow buttered popcorn
in greasy sacks won’t save you.
Creepy, sneaky, stealthy, clandestine
clowns traipse about –
like they own the place and your momma
doesn’t want to scream like a ninny when mister floppy shoed, red
in the nose and cheeks and frizzy curly orange hair wags a finger in her face and asks,
“Little lady, don’t you want a balloon?”
Hours later, 189 to be exact, my son and I return to the dirt swirling
parched parking lot –
the boy wound up, dances about like a fart in a skillet
hopping and bopping the spun blue sugar out of his tender
system, I wipe sticky face paint off
my knuckles as the dark night howls.
Donna Z Falcone says
Darlene, this is such a great collection of images and emotions! My favorite line HAS to be this: the boy wound up, dances about like a fart in a skillet
hopping and bopping the spun blue sugar out of his tender
system.
Heh heh. So many reasons I love that line!
My admiration grew for you, and parents everywhere, who took their children to places that they didn’t really seem to want to go to themselves… completely, but maybe just a little… because it’s such a one of a kind time!
SimplyDarlene says
fart in a skillet – ’twas my grandpa’s term for me as a kid. ahh, the imagery it invokes! thanks donna, for the nice words.
Maureen says
Classic circus images, Darlene.
(“… half-naked women/ riding elephants….’ Ringling has ’em.
SimplyDarlene says
maureen, thank you… even amid the weird and wild of the circus, it’s such an odd contrast — smooth skin and giant wrinkles.
Sandra Heska King says
Pass the too yellow buttered popcorn. And a candied apple, some cotton candy, and a large cup of fresh-squeezed, sugar-laden lemonade for $12. I loved this.
SimplyDarlene says
haha. as an adult i sneak my own snacks in – along with hand sanitizer! somehow the daring is overruled by the biology of junk food and germs. and thank you sandra for sharing the prompt. it was the nudge i needed.
Heather Eure says
“…popcorn in greasy sacks won’t save you.” I especially like this line. A glimpse of that dark underbelly of the traveling circus.
Jen says
Oh man. I love this. That creeped out meets sensory overload feeling is what keeps me away from carnivals and circuses… haha.
I never really went to them as a kid. My dad did a brief stint at a job setting up carnival rides. 🙂
nancy marie davis says
love it!
Rick Maxson says
Darlene, with humor you have managed to capture the excitement of the circus to a child and the wariness of a parent for the sinister elements.
How right on you are about the 189 hours it seems like. When our youngest daughter (a product of nuclear fusion) was 12 we took her to Mardi Gra at Disney World. Our feet still hurt.
SimplyDarlene says
Thanks, Richard. 🙂 It’s strange how I liked this sort of thing as a kid, but detest the sensory overload as an adult.
Rick Maxson says
Carousel
I will never get
to the office on this
lovely horse,
that gallops me
moving the world
up and down
into the past if
anywhere
the clouds swing by
then trees, like
tire swings swung
me, rope groan,
now a brass beam,
in it my bent face,
silent echo—O
where have I been?
SimplyDarlene says
ha. your first two lines are my favorite!
Heather Eure says
“now a brass beam, in it my bent face.” This is radiant, Rick. A little bit of frantic. A little bit seductive whirl.
nancy marie davis says
round and round i like it
Donna Z Falcone says
Thanks for sharing my shanty, Heather. 🙂 Update: Fork count is up. Cups count is down. If everything all came back at the same time I wouldn’t have room for it all LOL!
Heather Eure says
Haha! I just went into my son’s room to retrieve 4 bowls, 3 spoons (where’s the 4th?!), and five cups. A rescue of dinnerware… traveling down the river Lethe. 😉
Donna Z Falcone says
Ha where indeed? Somethings are better off not revealed. 😉
What’s up with having a totally EMPTY silverware drawer, yet a totally FULL plates and bowls cupboard? Hmmmmm yeah. I don’t even want to know.
Jen says
Donna’s shanty = hilarious. 🙂
Every week I say I’m gonna do this! And then I don’t. Because I procrastinate and I’m a poem tweaker and there’s a new prompt before I finish the current one…
Soooooo….. I’m just going to write something here and polish it later, if that’s cool. 🙂 I haven’t been to a carnival in ages…
On Top of the World
For just a few seconds
we’ll hang out here
in a creaky basket atop the Ferris wheel
while a few more people climb in,
above the noise and the color and the overload
the endless round and round calliope carousel
the echoing shrieks from the Gravitron and Zipper
the tumbling laughing conversations melting, melding
into a fog of noise.
All that exists now
is this creaky old basket
(how many people have sat here?)
a pool of sound and light below,
a hazy, cloudy night above,
just enough summer breeze to breathe
before we swing forward
back to earth
in a blur of color.
L. L. Barkat says
I absolutely love this, Jen! I might be inclined to let it end with “back to earth” or maybe even “before we swing forward.” Thoughts? (And I am really, really glad you dared to post before the tweak. This is what helps us begin to get our stuff out there. And then also we can discuss with people and see what their strongest responses are, and this helps us… swing forward! 😉
Jen says
Thank you! Yes, on a second look, I think the last two lines can definitely go… which is usually what happens to my poems. Trimming out the weak lines and moving words around makes them so much better.
Hopefully this is the beginning of a good weekly prompt writing habit. 🙂
Elizabeth Marshall says
Jen, love this poem of yours. So very glad you and your poetry are here!! Welcome to this community. Going back for a second read. You have really placed me in the bucket, atop the crazy scene of the carnival. I smell fried things 🙂
Elizabeth Marshall says
I love the closing three lines ending in the phrasing of a triplicate of b’s. B on my lips sounds like the down beat of something coming to an end. In this case the ferris wheel ride. Love this .
Heather Eure says
Jen, so glad you decided to share your poem with us! “…a fog of noise.” Love that!
We consider ourselves to be a community of encouragement and learning. –and some of us *really* understand procrastination and tweaking (and re-tweaking). You’re in good company here. 🙂
Your poem is a delight. Keep sharing!
Jen says
Thanks Heather! I’m fond of that image too. I love the encouragement and learning that happens here… been lurking/jumping in off and on for a while. 🙂
I am such a tweaker. Haha. But sometimes it feels good to throw something rough out into Internetland.
lynn__ says
A fun theme and yes, there may be a darker side. Here’s a poem i wrote earlier comparing bi-polar disorder to a circus:
http://madhatterpoetry.com/2013/04/21/the-bi-polar-brain-is/#comments
lynn__ says
http://madhatterpoetry.com/2013/04/21/the-bi-polar-brain-is/
Candace Kubinec says
What fun! Here’s my memory.
Candace Kubinec says
oopps, my blog address didnt show up in my previous comment
Candace Kubinec says
Sorry – third times a charm
http://rhymeswithbug.wordpress.com/2015/08/Round