Entry tags:
Yahtzee Roll #4: Fill 1: Original Poem: Gen
Title: Redamancy Revisited
No. of lines 28
Rating: Gen
Prompt:
Summary: Part 1 (of 5). Love and break-up.
before. they kissed beside the carousel.
romance and redamancy after dark.
the blared tune-joy of the amusement park
could neither dull nor drown the common swell
of love. their love was now bound to the smell
of deep-fried spun sugar. it left its mark
on brown paper, grease-stained, sticky and stark.
lightbulbs glared. they didn’t see, couldn’t tell.
they clung. they kissed. and the world disappeared.
no sound. no scent. no flavor but their own.
their island beside the merry-go-round.
and time stretched on, they kissed, and midnight neared,
surrounded by squeals of glee, all alone,
they kissed, amazed at this new thing they’d found.
after. a memory which happened to a stranger:
that kiss beside the carousel. not real.
not true. the smell of grease now makes her feel
like vomiting. how the pain must change her.
but first denial, then deadness, there’s danger
in not-feeling, not-caring, she must steel
herself for ‘next,’ brace herself for the peal
of children’s laughter. she must exchange her
everyday tragedy for something new.
not yet. the spinning hasn’t stopped. she must
wait. but time is such an awful liar.
who to be, where to go, and what to do
‘til she’s someone else and that kiss is just
a pretty postcard she sets on fire?
No. of lines 28
Rating: Gen
Prompt:
Summary: Part 1 (of 5). Love and break-up.
before. they kissed beside the carousel.
romance and redamancy after dark.
the blared tune-joy of the amusement park
could neither dull nor drown the common swell
of love. their love was now bound to the smell
of deep-fried spun sugar. it left its mark
on brown paper, grease-stained, sticky and stark.
lightbulbs glared. they didn’t see, couldn’t tell.
they clung. they kissed. and the world disappeared.
no sound. no scent. no flavor but their own.
their island beside the merry-go-round.
and time stretched on, they kissed, and midnight neared,
surrounded by squeals of glee, all alone,
they kissed, amazed at this new thing they’d found.
after. a memory which happened to a stranger:
that kiss beside the carousel. not real.
not true. the smell of grease now makes her feel
like vomiting. how the pain must change her.
but first denial, then deadness, there’s danger
in not-feeling, not-caring, she must steel
herself for ‘next,’ brace herself for the peal
of children’s laughter. she must exchange her
everyday tragedy for something new.
not yet. the spinning hasn’t stopped. she must
wait. but time is such an awful liar.
who to be, where to go, and what to do
‘til she’s someone else and that kiss is just
a pretty postcard she sets on fire?
