The Carnival

The lashing, 
Pierrot's whip,
no animals but animals crafted from shadows.
"For so long, For so...Long"
Something less than Pierrot.

The roads,

dust and concrete

Days tangled in the station wagon.

Lost in the vibrations, Lost...in the vibrations.

The dust Pierrot never forgot.

In the city,

bricks and s h   ar   ds of glass,

Leather bound volumes of history, water stained wallpapers.

These streets====haunted alone, haunted alone,

How the city of speakers vibrated.

Always a funeral,

white faces and polka dots,

jugglers plucked and tossed femurs and jaw bones from soil.

Lay Pierrot, Lay Pierrot,

Something less than Man. 

The reasoning behind the format of the poem is that I wanted each stanza to be distinct, both symbolically and physically, from one another. The italics, spacing, and bold are there for emphasis and visual support to the reader. Each stanza is taken from different parts of the Pierrot story, and I presented them chronologically as to give a narrative. *Note* I wrote a separate piece to this project, a story. But as I went along I felt that I liked the poem because when I read the story I felt like the wording is far better in a poem than a narrative. If you want to read the story let me know.  

Rorschach Inkblot Rant.

The crow hops around on the food ridden ground. As the crow continues to peck at the crumbs a pair of black eyes settle upon him. The crow no longer moves and does not make any eye contact with the large eyes confining him. When the crow trys the fly away he cannot and is paralyzed to the spot where he stands. The overbearing eyes intimidate the crow, and he regurgitates the newly ingested crumbs.
 The black turtle sees the crow and makes his way over to him. He looks at the crow, and the crow looks back, using his eyes to plea for help. But the turtle just looks that the crow with confusion and continues on his way. The crow wants to call for help but is fearful of what the eyes may do to him.
 A deer sees the crow and begins to make his way over to him. The deer has never been able to get close to a crow before. The deer walks around the crow for a moment and sniffs him. The crow wants to jump up onto the deer's back but he is afraid of what the eyes may do. So the crow just sits there. The deer is confused by the situation and walks away from the crow. The crow wants to get up and flap its wings to get the deers attention, but he is afraid of what the eyes may do.
   A hedgehog sees the crow standing alone not moving and wants to see what is going on. The hedgehog burroughs over to the crow and pops up and begins to examine the crow. The crow stands still as the hedgehog looks around to see if there is any immediate danger. The hedgehog gives the crow a dirty look, and then burroughs away from the crow. The crow wants to dig away with the hedgehog, but he is afraid of what the eyes may do.
   Soon the crow has been standing in the same spot for two whole days and has become tired. He wants to sleep. He thinks to himself if he conjures up enough strength to confront the eyes, then maybe he would surprise them.The crow makes the decision that he's going to fly straight at the eyes and gouge them to make a point before making his escape. He sucks in some air, puffs out his chest, and flies straight at the eyes as fast as he can with his talons ready to gouge. The eyes are not far away and he is fearful he does not have enough speed, but the eyes are already upon him. As soon as he hits the eyes the crow hits a transparent wall and falls to the ground, unhurt physically. Then the turtle, the deer, and the hedgehog all begin to laugh at the crow, and he flies away, smirking about his own idiocy.

Standing on 1/8th of an Inch

  The sheen of a sharpened skate blade reflects the sunlight onto the wall next to my dust covered nightstand. Before he left, my father told me that I learned to skate before I learned to walk. I'll take his word for it, but I can never remember learning either. I suppose retrospectively gliding across the ice was not unique, but I felt like a lone Shakespeare actor dancing eloquently after the other players have gone.  When I was a young boy I used to come home from school in the dead of winter and toss my bag carelessly into the snow before I laced my skates and soared around the ice. I can still hear my skates etching through the ice, carving a piece of modern art that only the birds could see. Temperature was never a factor and neither was snow. Snow only meant how much time I had to wait before I could skate, temperature only obstructed me from removing my sweat soaked t-shirt.
  Skating and hockey are two separate entities that only mingle by their mere surface. Skating is elegant, hockey is barbaric. When traveling faster than any land ridden mortal, adding a flying disc that can exceed any ball may seem ridiculous to some, stupid to others. I was not the elegant dancer of the pond when I played with ten other dancers. We devolved into competing animals battling for town reputation like cavemen for women. For many the taste of blood meant jeopardy, but for hockey players the taste meant you were doing something right, you were playing. The atmosphere of the hockey rink is intoxicating: the noise from the overzealous parents jockeying for their children's success like betters at the Kentucky Derby; the glow of the red light when the puck crosses the goal line and the jeers and screams of joy that follow; and the anguish of defeat as we came off the ice, only to walk like the mortals that came to watch us compete.
   Those years are gone now and I no longer battle in the Colosseum of ice. The glory of victory now comes in academic success but the praise is short lived and unfulfilled. The taste of blood is typically subsequent of accidents and dentist trips. My body aches from years of torn ligaments, ripped cartilage, and broken bones. In the early days of my youth I yearned for that next goal, the next play, the next shift, the next chance to stand on 1/8th of an inch. But now I sit here and reminisce of the days that I was the arctic gladiator. Starring at my skates, waiting for cold, so I can once again stand on 1/8th of an inch and dance across the ice as the players leave the stage.

The Prison Cell.

  The large iron bars locked behind me as I decorated my new home for the next ten years. The concrete walls had been etched with tally marks from the despicable felons before me. The rust on the window bars resembled the last moment of a New England summer sunset. Fittingly, this was my summer sunset. In the corner of the room was my cellmate. He was a large dark skinned man. His face scowled with hatred and contempt for the world around him. His body was riddled with scars. The scars on his back were thick and raised. Their red hue made me think they were recent. Turns out they were.
   "What ya in for?" He asked right away.
   "I'm just in to do my time." I said. And then I sat down on the bench across the room from him. Our knees were almost touching.
   "How much time you get?" He asked again.
   "Ten years." I replied.
   " Well goddam you musta done somethin' white boy. What was it you done?"
   "I killed a man" I lied.
   "You didn't kill nobody. Do you think I'm dumb or somethin'? Just 'cause I'm not articulate doesn't mean I was born yesterday. You don't get just 10 years for murder. Come on now, we're gonna be livin' together for a long time, what'd you do?"
  "Fine, fine, goddammit you're pushy. I robbed a bank and got caught. And I fled before my court date. They caught me in Chicago. So there, that's my story. What's yours?"
  He looked down at his feet for a moment. He put his hands out and began to look at them as if he were looking at a photograph. I could tell they were calloused like stones. His voice trembled, " What they tell me I was out on a boat in the ocean, I was a fisherman you see. And they arrested me for fishin' where I wasn't suppose to be fishin' I guess."
 I started laughing, "Haha, that's bullshit. Really, what'd you do."
   "I'm tellin' you the truth", he yelled. He jumped out of his chair and his eyes filled with rage.
   "Okay, okay." Out of fear I changed the subject. "So how long have you been in here?" I asked.
   "Ever since I can remember, since a child" he said. "One day I asked a guard why I was in here, you see. And that's what he told me, that's what I did. When I asked him when I could go, he told me he didn't know. Probably never. See, every time my probation comes up, or I get enough money to get outta here, they say I've been bad and need to work off my bad deeds. But I don't remember if I did anything wrong, see. I'm thinkin' the warden just wants me to keep workin' here 'til I'm dead."
   "One day you'll be gone. I'll be sure of it. You just need to start planning a way." I reassured him. "But now I'm tired, what do they got to read in this dump?"
   He sat down again, "Read? read? They don't let you read anything in here? Are you kiddin'?"
   "What? Why not?"
   "They don't want us gettin' any ideas, you see. Of escape" he said.
 I got up off the bench and looked passed the rusted iron bars at the scenery around me. The overgrown crops go on for miles and miles. The rolling hills are never ending. The iron shackles around the prisoner's ankles in the courtyard send shivers down my spine. I can see the fat warden in his penthouse next to the sniper tower laughing with his guards. God I wish his glutinous fat body was dragged through the streets like mine was. Near the entrance the dried blood from the prisoners who refused to work that day turns black in the fading daylight. And here I am in this prison cell. Soon to lose the feeling of freedom like my cellmate. And become a mindless drone of work and labor for the gun toting guards. I soon feel myself coming short of breath and hyperventilation.
   "Woah, come on now, sit down before you go crazy boy" my cellmate said. He grabbed my arm gently and I fell to the floor. Suddenly my eyes became fascinated with one of the concrete blocks under the bunk. It was slightly smaller than the rest of the blocks and there was an edge of empty black around it. I poked it with my hand and it slid like a drawer. I pulled it open. It was a box. My cellmate got down on his knees with me and looked me in the eye. He gave me a nod. I opened it up and inside was the King James Bible.
   "We're saved!" I screamed. My cellmate started to cry.
   "What is it?" I asked.
   "I can't read" he said.
    I put my hand on his shoulder, "I'll teach you. For now, I'll read it to you." I opened up to Exodus and started reading to my cellmate, careful to make sure no guard saw me with a book.

Snapshot: Boston, 1974

The thrust of xenophobic patriotism aimed directly at an American citizen. The black common man is held back by passerby. Some of those in the background raise their fists in the air in victory. Others in the background turn away from the violence. Yet most just simply watch, not intervening and not participating. The man in all black aims for the midsection of the vulnerable black man who is wearing all white. The brick streets in black and white show no red although red is almost certain in the photograph.
What could bring someone to such a rage to stab someone in the chest like a Roman Hoplite? Was the man trying to go home? Was he in the wrong place at the wrong time? Was the man dressed in black pointing the flag towards someone else? Did the javelin thrower miss? Did the Russian communists scream for joy when they saw this picture? Did the nation regress back? Did the children scream? Were children beaten for being who they are? Did the schools close? Did the President cry, get angry, or agree? Was the Underground Railroad closed? Did textbooks change? Or did it get covered up? Where are the rest of those in protest? Did the racist faces of Irish Boston scowl at their actions years later? Or did the man trying to help the black man by pulling him to safety accidentally get him killed?

Not so "Happy Endings"

 A. Elizabeth and Jeffery meet at a young age. They eventually get married and have kids. Elizabeth likes horses and Jeffery knows it. Their kids are very smart. After they get married they go on to have successful careers. The retire at a young age and enjoy each others company. Their sex life goes well late into their lives because science allows it to. Eventually they die.
B. Elizabeth and Jeffery are long time childhood friends whose passions for one another have always been secretive but obvious. Since they were young children they have always been together. As they grew older they began to realize that they were both in love. One day, Jeffery professed his love to Elizabeth and from then on they were inseparable.
   Elizabeth had always had a profound love for horses. Jeffery, indifferent to her love of an equestrian lifestyle, saved as much money as he could to buy her a house with a large field for a horse to roam around. Jeffery surprised her on her birthday and in a moment of romantic fever he proposed to her. She could not say no. Her eyes teared up with joy and she accepted without hesitation.
   Jeff and Elizabeth had three children who were outstanding young students. Amanda, the oldest, became a criminal defense lawyer who protected the weak from wealthy tyrants. Alex, the smartest of the siblings, became a famous bio-engineer and invented the first eco-friendly car that was affordable for the masses. Lastly, Andrew, the youngest, became a professor at Harvard following his oldest sibling into the law field.
  Both Elizabeth and Jeffery retired at a young age and lived well for the rest of their lives. Their children frequently visited their home even when they had children themselves. When Elizabeth fell ill late in her life, Jeffery was at her bedside. When Elizabeth eventually died, Jeffery had a small funeral and laid her in her final resting place as gently as he once held her. Soon thereafter, Jeffery passed away as well at a ripe old age.
 C. Elizabeth loves horses and wants her longtime boyfriend Jeffery to buy her a horse for her birthday. Jeffery believes that horses are for betting on, not having at their homes. He thinks that having a horse would ruin their lives because horses smell terribly and Elizabeth would spend more time on the horses than taking care of his needs.
   Jeffery is obsessed with having children. All of his friends know that he is a sexist bastard and that the woman that married him would have an awful life. Jeffery spends most of his days in the pub after work. He'd rather watch sports and get drunk in a bar than remember to take his wife out on a birthday dinner. Most of his friends say that Elizabeth would be treated more like one of her horses than like a deserving wife.
  Jeffery and Elizabeth get married and have a terrible life. Their sex life seems more out of obligation than true desire. Elizabeth finally musters up the strength to tell Jeffery off and they get divorced. After the divorce they go their seperate ways and never see one another again.
D. Jeffery and Elizabeth are long time friends whose passions for one another are well known throughout school. One day, another kid named Vincent try's to intervene in Jeff and Elizabeth's relationship. Jeffery hates Vincent with sincere passion. He has hated him ever since kindergarten. One day Vincent pushes Jeff down the stairs at school while no one was looking. Jeffery hit his head against the wall so hard that it knocked him out cold. When he regained his wits, he was in the nurses office with all the nurses and teachers checking in on him. From the window he could see Vincent trying to get Elizabeth to kiss him. He was furious.
The next day Jeffery went to school with vengence on his mind. At the first chance he got he was going to knock Vincent out. As they were going down the stairs to recess, Jeffery kicked Vincent in the back and he slammed into the wall and was immediately knocked out. Blood began to pour from his head and he convulsed on the floor. A teacher saw what happened and brought Jeffery down to the office. As he waited in the office news came around that Vincent had died.
Jeffery spent the rest of his life in and out of prison. For the rest of his life he wondered what would have happened if he did not do anything and remained calm. He never saw Elizabeth again. Elizabeth ended up marrying Vincent's older brother Derek who she had met at Vincent's funeral. They had a wonderful life. Jeffery did not. He ended up being the female in a prison relationship with his cellmate Bubba.
E. Jeffery and Elizabeth had known each other for a long time before they got married. Elizabeth was a temperamental woman who abused Jeffery's timidness for her benefit. Jeffery worked long hours in the office while Elizabeth stayed at home all day watching midday television. Jeffery had to hire a maid because Elizabeth refused to do any work. Elizabeth loved horses and Jeffery bought her one. But it turned out only to be a phase and Jeffery had to swallow the financial burden of buying an animal. Jeffery's life was not going well.
  Their sex life was odd at best. From outside the door it would sound as if they were in the midst of the most passionate, romantic, and epic sex that two people have ever had. When in reality, it was the most abusive, repugnant, and disturbing scene a set of eyes had ever witnessed. Jeffery was very shy and never said much, whereas Elizabeth was vocal and nearly violent in their "love making". Eventually Elizabeth got pregnant.
  Their lone child Brad became a snobby brat. Elizabeth taught him no work ethic and showed him how to be successfully lazy. When Jeffery tried to show Brad how to do the right things, work ethic, and respect, Elizabeth would slap Jeff and force him to leave. Brad ended up killing himself later in life because he was indicted on tax evasion.
  Jeffery never divorced Elizabeth. He just sucked it up and went along in life. Elizabeth died before Jeffery and he felt as if the chains of slavery were released from his ankles. His enjoyment of freedom was brief as he was an old man by this point. He died a sad, lonely man, never seeing more in the world than the next town over.
F. Elizabeth and Jeffery were long time friends who eventually got married. Elizabeth loved horses and wanted to show Jeffery how to ride. At first, Jeffery was clumsy and consistently fell off the horse and into the mud/ Elizabeth thought it was cute. But Jeffery persisted and eventually became a skilled rider like Elizabeth. They rode horses for a long time until Jeffery had a bright idea and wanted to enter a race.
  Elizabeth only liked riding horses for fun and never really thought about racing a horse for money. She saw no harm in trying and she was just glad that Jeffery had taken such an interest in one of her hobbies. Both Jeffery and Elizabeth entered a race together and finished first and second place, Elizabeth had one. After that they both became excellent riders and raced horses on the worlds largest stage, the Kentucky Derby.
   Elizabeth became the first female jockey to win the Derby and eventually Jeffery won one as well. They gained much fame and notoriety for being the married couple who dominated the sport of horse racing. Eventually they retired with millions of dollars and pursued raising a family as well as they had raced horses.
   They raised two children who learned how to ride and became successful horse racers as well. Eventually Elizabeth and Jeffery opened up one of their own equestrian facilities. Their final years together were relaxing and pleasant. They both lived lives of a fame and fortune. This one, is most similar to B.