Carniveil – collaboration

Just a little dark carousel ride into the minds of a couple twisted souls.

Corrected link here.

hands in the garden

A third collaboration with the amazingly talented Tara Caribou of Caribou Crossings. Her writing takes me new and exciting places and her friendship has helped me navigate some dark corners.  Please check out her work. 

carinvel.jpgChildren’s chuckle, sticky fingers cross haired

At throbbing bomb-beast, restrained with slack

In gnarly,  pumpkin  peel

Scuffed tokens buffed and given

Smirking malice, slight but driven

Vile stallions addled with saddles, red in hue

Elephant rock thumps with hung grey shrunks

Banty rooster, glows white from crowing

Vaudeville score bewitches slow

Building frantic speed with guilty spins

Churned tunes skipping wicked pace

In bile swamp bellies of hate’s embrace

Cracked, swooping lights

Disheveled fosters’ silhouettes

Freaking past squint-eyed pinhead salutes

Grips on striped merry-go-round poles

Branding four filthy generations’ handprints deep

Garish masks of slime-stained mimes

Twitch, fear-framed in creepy postures

Sleepy sutured lids stretched for escape

Of ghastly visions, cranking jack-in-the box…

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14 thoughts on “Carniveil – collaboration

  1. This is perhaps the weirdest word salad I’ve come across on WordPress, and it seems like a drawn out descriptive but the wording is so specific that it siphons all room for imagination between whats actually being created, which is the point of written imagery, otherwise you have photography. I don’t mean to sound harsh, I really don’t, but I can’t even find a definitive literary point or symbology associated that would justify the existence of this poem, there is just… nothing there.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks for your comment. I admit, it is abstract. Very. The idea being that of the dark memories of a child riding a carousel. The garish animals with their chipped paint, ridden for generations of carnival-goers. The parent’s faces distorted and smudged as you spin around. Walking the busy night with sounds and images you don’t quite understand with wide-eyed wonder. The sounds and sights of a childhood memory twisted through the years. They aren’t always crisp and clean. Nor are they always pleasant.

      I appreciate your comment and for reading. I hope you’ll stick around. Maybe the next poem will affect you just as strongly, but in a good way?

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I took no offense. Not every writing is for every reader. Both Anthony and I appreciate honest (even negative) feedback. It helps us grow and become better. Believe me. I’ve had plenty of things said to me, I listen and I learn.

        Liked by 1 person

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