Clowning in the City of Lights
I looked and looked
beyond the deep and the shallow
and connected the dexterity
of my fingers to your brain
Of course you want to know
if I can throw circles
round the Eiffel stake.
And after more looking
I convinced myself life is a circus
and I your smoking puppet
blowing rings
around your Fingers
Yes, YES your Sleight of thOughts
gOt me diZZy and oFF kilter
and I wAnt to be in Paris
a juGGling clOWN just like yOu
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Sep©2009
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poem by Alex Nodopaka
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Stone Fog
Stone Fog
i think
she is your alter ego
someone you pine for
the dizziness
is your inebriation with her
and may be due
to atmospheric pressure
differentials
she comes and goes
like a fog sculpture
or a De Chirico muse
without a shadow
she's pure fog
with consciousness
and a heart of stone
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Nov©2009
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Funeral Flowers never Fade
I’d rather remember
the colorful blossoms
surrounding the departed.
I’d rather remember
their character and their scent
not some waxen faces
straight out of the mold.
I’d rather remember the roses
and the reds and the yellows
and the whites and the pinks.
I’d rather forget the thorns
and the pricks and the angst
and the contradictions
between existence and extinction.
I’d rather forget
the pallidness of life
and never watch
funeral flowers fade.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Sep©2009
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Love in Rubber Balls
From a seashore wedding
all that’s left at ebb’s tide are
discarded hot air balloons.
Once inflated egos
now in flaccid condoms
are the only ephemeral remnants
of flushed adulation
feeding foreign shores.
Lovers gone,
paramours in search of passion,
only barren lovers’ wishes
fill imaginary baby carriages.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Sep©2009
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If Life Was A Circus
If lide was a circus
I'd be your clown,
I'd get on your pony
ride your merry-go-
round.
if life was a circus
under your big tent,
make love with you
forever
we'd be heaven spent.
if life was a circus
in your arena we would
play,
with each other forever
forever, and a day.
but life is not a circus
I am not a clown,
all I can ever do
is watch your merry-go-
round.
poem by Heather Burns
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She Ran Away With A Rodeo Clown
(toby keith)
Shes a top barrel racer
Cowboy chaser
She drinks tecate like its goin out of style
Shes real good lookin and pretty good at hookin
Any man she wants with just a little smile
I drawed a strong one
A big full grown one
He punched me out when I hit the ground
I came to with a panoramic view
Lookin for my baby
She was nowhere around
I looked up, I looked down
I aint seen her since the second go-round
Somebody said they seen her headin out of town
Now she ran away with a rodeo clown
She ran away with a rodeo clown
Shes got twenty-two dollars
And makeup on her collar
She left some clothes so shes travelin light
But Ill bet a new saddle
And forty head of cattle
That I could catch em both if I drove all night
But this dont make sense
Shes done jumped the fence
And Im speedin cross texas on a broken heart
Im goin home where the coyote roam
Makin my camp at the end of the bar
I looked up, I looked down
I aint seen her since the second go-round
Somebody said they seen her headin out of town
Now she ran away with a rodeo clown
She ran away with a rodeo clown
I looked up, I looked down
I aint seen her since the second go-round
Somebody said they seen her headin out of town
Now she ran away with a rodeo clown
She ran away with a rodeo clown
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Lightweight Ode to Ars
A Lightweight Ode to Ars
or A Not So Fauve Muse
Fernand Leger watching me
Bloats my limbs
But when Salvador Dali comes
He makes my edges flow.
And if Pablo Picasso shows up
My face looks
Like it hit the fan.
Of them all I adore most
Marcel Duchamp’s tongue.
He says I taste like
A cubed sashimi roll from
A fauve Rousseau beast.
A the roaring sound
Magritte pops his head out and
All gaga about her says Dada.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Feb©2009
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Life Is At Stake
Between the lips and fingers,
Life is at stake,
O' Cigarette smoking!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Less than precious Stones
Less than precious Stones
I'm so glad you asked
a brilliant question for which
I have a dull answer.
Brilliance has to do
with shine and
dullness with personality.
Like in dimwitted.
A brilliant can be dulled
which makes it less brilliant.
Yet it doesn’t make it
dimwitted. Like some people
are smart but not intelligent
while others are intelligent
but not smart at all. Like how
I'm trying to answer here.
Let’s bet with your polish
you can hone my answer
better than I can lap it.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Nov©2009
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Goddess Durga
Goddess Durga
Astride on her tiger
in menstrual throes
She feels she has a
Tiger in her tank
But her retinue trumpets
that he lost his woodies
and that she should club
her Wood
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Mar©2010
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I don’t know if God plays ball
I don’t know if God plays ball
soccer or foosball or bacci ball.
Well, I’m a Frenchman and
boules is the name of my game.
Being on the ball is like playing
with Gigi little girls. When God
created Eve I wonder did He
have in mind dirty old men
and did He mean putting man
behind the eight ball
and did He know that eons later
round the corner of the square ball
someone hooks up with
a hooded guy who sells 3.5 grams
of meth and coke and damn,
that 8 ball is already gone!
I wish I had another!
I start singin’ a tune, I don't drink
brass monkey, like to be funky
and my name ain’t Eazy-E
your 8 ball junkie.
We did an eight ball of blow and
danced until next morning.
I ain’t never goin’ out
With an eight-ball Chiquita
Cuz I got balls and I ain’t
givin’ her mine and
she ain’t playin’ with mine.
I wish God had more balls
and my brain marinate
in mothballs.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Aug©2010
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Ace of Hearts
Ace of Hearts
I ain’t goin’ nowhere
And that frickin’ raven
Ain’t gonna make me write
No Poe poem
Nor this goddam bridge
Ain’t goin’ nowhere either
Not even straddling
Sarah Palin’s arse to Russia
~~~
Alex Nodopaka ©2008
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The Circus
Hey, there! Hoop-la! the circus is in town!
Have you seen the elephant? Have you seen the clown?
Have you seen the dappled horse gallop round the ring?
Have you seen the acrobats on the dizzy swing?
Have you seen the tumbling men tumble up and down?
Hoop-la! Hoop-la! the circus is in town!
Hey, there! Hoop-la! Here's the circus troupe!
Here's the educated, dog jumping through the hoop.
See the lady Blondin with the parasol and fan,
The lad upon the ladder and the india-rubber man.
See the joyful juggler and the boy who loops the loop.
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Here's the circus troupe!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Shallow Grave
When I fall in endless sleep
I hope that I'll be buried deep
Let me be the one that fortune favours
Even good children got shallow graves
Throw another clown to the lions
Throw another Joan on the blaze
Cast me away on the cruel calm ocean
and leave me for days and days and days and days and days
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
I won't lie, I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Bless the poor 'cos like the rich
They all end up in a ditch
In this world of fools and knaves
Even good children got shallow graves
The tinker, the tailor, the fabulous five
Nobody gets out of this alive
Chorus
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down, dig me down, dig me down deep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fickle Fingers Of Fate
The fickle fingers of fate befalls us
everyday of our lives.
Sometimes it brings us happiness,
other times it brings us misery.
Sometimes it brings us love,
other times it breaks our heart.
The fickle fingers of fate befalls us
in everything we do.
Our actions are governed
by its fickle fingers
day and night
in what we do and say.
Its waywardness leads us
down roads we should not go
or to mountains too high to climb.
It can lead us to valleys
where tranquillity lay
and to lives peaceful.
The fickle fingers of fate
will lead us as it may,
making up decisions right or wrong.
We are its puppet on a string
as the fickle fingers of fate controls
our destiny come what may.
30 August 2009
poem by David Harris
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The M & M Candy Telephone
The M & M Candy Telephone
The device is switched to mute.
Not a sound comes from
the Raisin Bran guys except
for the pre-programmed
visual message on the LCD screen.
When the receiver flashes
instead of ringing
the Venus de Milo deodorant statue
doesn't move an arm
to pick up the handset.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Feb©2010
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I have a story that’ll
I have a story that’ll
bury Tiger Woods
under 6 feet of sand.
It’s the wishful thinking
of any golfer
to eagle their balls
in Alice’s hole.
But I wonder if anybody
wants their balls
to shrink fast enough
in the time they fly
from the golfing club
to birdie Wonderland.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Apr©2010
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The Costumed Oscar Eve Party
Mickey has big ears and hears secrets
he's not supposed to. I think of pinning
and taping my droopy
fleshy excesses (the visible only)
with clear adhesive strips and suspend
my eyelids from my eyebrows and
stretch my cheeks to my earlobes
so I can fasten them behind.
You’re right about the big mouse
(a friend’s suggestion) that
his ears are big enough to hide
the decaying extent of my wisdom.
That way at the party incognito
I’ll flit from one guest to another
loosely talk about economics and
the worth of shrunken real estates.
In between champagne sips and
furtive glances at cleavages maybe
I shall make a cleavage photo series?
Yes, yes, we never know except
that a no always leads nowhere.
Well, so much for my simile-stream
Of consciousness written in octoplets.
Speaking of eights, isn’t it breath-
taking to rediscover there’s money
to be made from a large progeniture.
Because historically speaking,
when in dire economic times,
a freak circus is always a
hysterical place to watch an octopus
vaginally birth octopi.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Feb©2009
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Sorrow and JD
I was looking to drown my sorrows
in a large bottle of JD.
After six fingers things looked better
as they became sunk in me.
Twelve fingers and my mind became blurry,
the JD was getting increasingly less.
I was losing all sense of reason
and becoming a mixed up mess.
The liquid was decidedly more ish,
as fingers became more like hands.
Bad memories faded into oblivion
as the JD took over command.
I lost my grip on everything
as my elbow slipped off the bar.
My glass passed through my fingers
and bounced as it hit the floor.
At this point I lost my co-ordination,
and the bar wouldn’t keep still.
I was a passenger in a spinning helicopter
and I was feeling unquestionably ill.
I woke up as a red eyed headache,
with my clothes in a state of distress.
My first thoughts were that of self pity
caused by sorrow, and JD excess.
poem by Orlando Belo
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If you're a circus clown, and you have a dog that you use in your act, I don't think it's a good idea to also dress the dog up like a clown, because people see that and they think, 'Forgive me, but that's just too much.'
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shallow Graves
When I fall in endless sleep
I hope that Ill be buried deep
Let me be the one that fortune favours
Even good children got shallow graves
Throw another clown to the lions
Throw another joan on the blaze
Cast me away on the cruel calm ocean
And leave me for days and days and days and days and days
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
I wont lie, I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Bless the poor cos like the rich
They all end up in a ditch
In this world of fools and knaves
Even good children got shallow graves
The tinker, the tailor, the fabulous five
Nobody gets out of this alive
Chorus
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down, dig me down, dig me down deep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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