Down Carnival Hall | Teen Ink

Down Carnival Hall

March 8, 2012
By KaseyCossolotto GOLD, Moravia, Iowa
KaseyCossolotto GOLD, Moravia, Iowa
19 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
&quot;The only way is no way.&quot; -Bruce Lee<br /> <br /> &ldquo;Dream as if you&#039;ll live forever, live as if you&#039;ll die today.&rdquo;


Once long ago,
Long before I can remember,
I recall one day I slipped into a dream.
I was not asleep, nor was I awake,
Yet I wandered down Unconscious Lane.
Whilst I strolled through the Museum of the Odd,
I found myself sitting on a bench.
I asked myself what I was doing sitting there,
And I replied
Well what are I doing standing in front of me?
Good point
You/I replied, and passed me/you by with shy little smile,
And a wave, slightly cold, but merely friendly.
I continued through the Museum and wondered why nothing was here.
Nothing hung on the walls,
Nothing stood on display,
Yet here I saw the whole world.
All the creatures of the dark,
Twisted and awkward.
All the things of the light...
Just shining and glowing.
Everything glitter and everything fire.
And everything, nothing, shattered glass.
Not sure what to make of it all.
I continued, stuttered and stumbled,
Graceful as a swan, delicate little step by step.
Over the floors of glass, and the walls of paper,
Painted bright colors of purest black and white.
When ahead caught my eye the biggest little sign,
That read nothing, but CARNIVAL HALL.
I came to a stop when I started forward,
And wandered down this place to nowhere.
I was greeted by a creature that thoroughly ignored me,
And kept moving, as still as could be.
Through the darkness, the light could be seen,
Though it appeared dim through the faded
Red and white lines of the circus curtains.
Laying all around me,
The scattered pieces of popcorn that had popped in peoples’ mouths,
Little blown out pieces of cheek and tongue beside them.
Hands that had clapped until they were sore,
The sounds of which still echoed through the material halls of the masquerade.
The most beautiful red roses, all black, dead and decayed,
Lay growing scattered around my feet.
The zombies of an audience grunt lively in entertainment.
All the smiles twisted in pleasure and pain,
As the show cuts impressions in their minds.
The brain matter stuck to their skulls,
Now coated in sugary sweet memories of better times.
Each mind melts and rots in the pool
Of giddiness that floods their empty heads.
I shake my mind at them, and wander along.
I find myself catching the eye of the ringleader.
He waves his arms, an elaborate motion to distract the audience.
All smoke and mirrors, nothing is real.
Everything just a mask of happiness over the face of the world.
Yet this is nothing more than the truth.
Everything flat black and white, the most beautiful of colors.
Gorgeous, perfect misery for us all.
Endless spinning.
Rotation after rotation,
The circus still performs for the sick minded.
I leave before the show can corrupt.
Drip drip drip.
Black gooey rain drips from the sky,
Hits your skin, and fades away.
Such an odd sight, as the dark rain falls,
Yet the sun still show just a little to the southern north.
Hypnotic eyes in the foreboding darkness of the light around me
Cast shadows of swirling insanity on my face.
A never ending, bottomless pit,
A hole in the soul of the insane.
For lack of a mind, lack of a purpose,
Forever to wander, never to somewhere relevant.
I ignore how my eyes begin to spin the same in the realm of fiction around me.
Continue to walk and the barbed wire kissed my skin.
The medics rush to me, and stitch me up.
All have run into this before.
Perfect. I look like the natives.
At the end of the hall, past the clowns and the painted faces of the damned,
Past the discarded souls, bodies having run off in fun and games.
Through the millions of smiling faces, with the glazed over eyes,
And the flowers and trees, twisted like vines and minds around those they've trapped.
Past the hills with the eyes, the men without faces, the women with no personality,
To the heroes that leave more destruction than the villains,
And the villains only more the heroes, but with failed intentions.
I walk, and walk. Pray that someday I shall find a place where it is quiet, and I can
Escape this dream. This dream where all is horribly beautiful,
And where nothing, everything will begin to end
Through the veils of reality and deception,
Where both shall always meet, both shall fight, both to fall.
For as much as I love it here, in this building without walls.
I know I shall too lose my mind, should I never leave...
CARNIVAL HALL.


The author's comments:
This poem was written to bring a comical and whimsical side to insanity, destruction, imperfection, and sin. It was inspired by the work of Tim Burton. While he used pictures to make dark subjects light and fun, I used words.

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.