Monday, December 9, 2013

The Acrobat--By Terry O’Leary--France

The Acrobat

The Circus gongs excite the Throngs in nighttime Never Land –
They swarm to see the destiny of Freaks at their command,
While Acrobats step pit-a-pat above the shifting sands
And Lady Fat sits down to chat and oozes charm unplanned.

The Dwarfs in suits, so small and cute when marching with the Band,
Ask crimson Clowns with frozen frowns, to hold a mutant hand,
While Tamers’ whips with withered tips, throughout the winter land,
Lure Cats entranced through hoops enhanced with flames of fires fanned.

White Elephants in big-top tents boast black-tusk contraband
To regiments of Sycophants who overflow the stands,
But No One sees anomalies, and No One understands.

At night’s demise, the dither dies, the lonesome Crowd disbands,
Down dead-end streets the Horde retreats, their tattered rags in strands,
And Janes and Joes reweave their woes, for thoughts of change are banned.

To play a part in Three-Ring Art, I thought I’d try my hand –
I mastered skills, I felt the thrills, I breathed and seethed firsthand –
But destiny denied to me to taste a lifetime spanned
With tightrope walks and trapeze chalks ... excepting second-hand...

For alcohol provoked a fall, as if a reprimand,
And now, a heap, I sometimes keep the ticket office manned...

Terry O’Leary defines himself as "A physicist lacking gravity...".


  1. Terry, I thought this poem amazing. Your command of words was truly a delight to read. Thank you for this share. I loved it.

  2. Terry, the title interested me as I am an acrobat, but now I see you were writing about something much deeper. It's those strange dreams that seem unexplainable and I love the way you described each portion of this dream. Alcohol does take a toll, but the light of hope remains. Wishing you a very Merry Christmas, Carolyn Devonshire

  3. Dear Terry,

    Without the spotlight, the world can fall apart. Even the crowd becomes lonesome without its components; nothing to look at any more except black sky. Alcohol can trap us all in the ticket office of life. Is that what you meant? Don't answer that. "Black-tusked contraband" is a perfect example of your unique use of and insight into the meaningful language of art. You know my dear, I appreciate your poetry with ashamed covetousness.

    Each of your poems is so worth waiting for.

    xxx's ooo'se,

  4. Thank you, Jack Horne, for the following comment--

    loved every well chosen word

  5. Creative and fun.

    -Maurice J. Reynolds, Owner / Editor
    TGBTG! Publications, Creative Inspirations