surviving a circus

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the clown waits for the tingling
bell of classical conditioning
to produce the act for retaining
every measure of survival —

i had never seen the red-nosed
darling open his carnival mouth of
blood candy & enameled smokes.

he told me of a lion’s solipsism
jumping through the hoops of
an urban jungle, quite similar to
a modern generational shift, from
a Randian objectivism to graffiti.

~

the bell is rung at the last step of
a sleepy night’s solo performance,
to wake me from a circus dream
in which i am but a rope dangling
from the canopy,

for all the poor souls
to climb, and flee from
a cannibal crowd, caterwauling
like Circe in waiting.

.
© Anmol Arora 2018

For dVerse Poetics: Come to the Circus!
Image source (Circus, 2011, by Leslie Bender)

*Edited some more for With Real Toads’ Tuesday Platform

***

I have been working on a new Insta handle for over a month now, for literary and creative posts: @anmol.ha.
For contact, you can reach out to me through my multiple profiles, enlisted here.

Circus of Emotions

circus of emotions, finding a way to fly,

leaving a tail of silver glittering fire,

the residue of what once was dear to heart,

.

the land where, one had found the strength,

time to bid goodbye, to those boulders,

(which are now broken into sand kernels),

.

as the crescent moon gazes, meditating

at the scene of sultry separation,

.

the circus of emotions in tatters, flying

away, with the memories of those lives,

no longer tied, to the rope of significance,

.

I close my eyes… I am that pulled apart earth,

bidding goodbye to the circus, and along with it,

a farewell, to what all were my dreams once

.

* The art work is by Catrin Welz Stein. You can find more of her work at http://catrinwelzstein.blogspot.de/

** A quick piece for dVerse Poetics.