Post by Hunter on Apr 29, 2004 7:10:06 GMT -5
Painted Waler
a dancing horse
a painted Waler
three years old
decorated tastefully
with tinsel and bells
led into the centre ring
of a three ring circus
the clown at her head
weeps beneath his made up smile
waves to the cheering
jeering crowd
hands bound before her
bareback astride
the painted Waler
silver cloak hood drawn up
the colour of moonlight
dancing across the waves
hides her face from view
high above trapeze artists
death defying dancers
weave their magic
to the soundtrack
of frightened gasps
and murmured oaths
provided by a rapt crowd
while off to the left
in a cage of steel gilded gold
the lion tamer cracks his whip
forces his toy cats
declawed
sedated
onto painted stools
through burning hoops
playing with the dignity
of tan lionnesses
and striped Bengal tigers
in the centre of the ring
long red cloak and tall black hat
he stands
handmade stockwhip
his pride and joy
taps against his thigh
in time to the orchestra building their
crescendo
the painted Waler stops before him
tosses her head bells jangle
her weeping clown buries his face
in her warm shoulder
in case the crowd should see
streaks of paint that mark the passage
of a river a tears
the strongman semi-naked
muscles on show
lifts her off the painted Waler
all eyes turn to the
centre ring
the ringmaster reaches for the hood
pushes it back
revealing raven hair slate grey eyes
the crowed quiets to a deafening hush
broken only by
a lioness roar
her clown reaches out for her
his face a tragic mask
the strongman kicks him
fallen to the ground
a mouthful of a sawdust
he kneels
watching
the ringmaster whips her cloak off
and she is naked
revealed to the crowd
admiration freezes their faces
a box at his feet
unnoticed until now
he opens with a flourish
and draws out
a sword
"I'm sorry my child"
he whispers
so the crowd does not hear
and break the illusion
of the spell
the crowd on the edge
of their seats
watch
as he raises the sword
and runs it through her
until seven inches
of bloodied steel
emerge from her naked back
and she falls
a plume of sawdust
catches the light
for an instant
silence
before the tent erupts
into deafening applause
and her clown scuttles
to her where body lies
runs his hand through her hair
the painted Waler
rears and bucks
the orchestra being
to play again
and the ringmaster takes a bow
the crowd disperse
their admiration evident
for the illusion
performed for them today
until all that is left
her painted Waler her clown
his made up face
washed away
to mourn her passing
but it does not matter
what the cost
is to her
so long as the crowd
is entertained
a dancing horse
a painted Waler
three years old
decorated tastefully
with tinsel and bells
led into the centre ring
of a three ring circus
the clown at her head
weeps beneath his made up smile
waves to the cheering
jeering crowd
hands bound before her
bareback astride
the painted Waler
silver cloak hood drawn up
the colour of moonlight
dancing across the waves
hides her face from view
high above trapeze artists
death defying dancers
weave their magic
to the soundtrack
of frightened gasps
and murmured oaths
provided by a rapt crowd
while off to the left
in a cage of steel gilded gold
the lion tamer cracks his whip
forces his toy cats
declawed
sedated
onto painted stools
through burning hoops
playing with the dignity
of tan lionnesses
and striped Bengal tigers
in the centre of the ring
long red cloak and tall black hat
he stands
handmade stockwhip
his pride and joy
taps against his thigh
in time to the orchestra building their
crescendo
the painted Waler stops before him
tosses her head bells jangle
her weeping clown buries his face
in her warm shoulder
in case the crowd should see
streaks of paint that mark the passage
of a river a tears
the strongman semi-naked
muscles on show
lifts her off the painted Waler
all eyes turn to the
centre ring
the ringmaster reaches for the hood
pushes it back
revealing raven hair slate grey eyes
the crowed quiets to a deafening hush
broken only by
a lioness roar
her clown reaches out for her
his face a tragic mask
the strongman kicks him
fallen to the ground
a mouthful of a sawdust
he kneels
watching
the ringmaster whips her cloak off
and she is naked
revealed to the crowd
admiration freezes their faces
a box at his feet
unnoticed until now
he opens with a flourish
and draws out
a sword
"I'm sorry my child"
he whispers
so the crowd does not hear
and break the illusion
of the spell
the crowd on the edge
of their seats
watch
as he raises the sword
and runs it through her
until seven inches
of bloodied steel
emerge from her naked back
and she falls
a plume of sawdust
catches the light
for an instant
silence
before the tent erupts
into deafening applause
and her clown scuttles
to her where body lies
runs his hand through her hair
the painted Waler
rears and bucks
the orchestra being
to play again
and the ringmaster takes a bow
the crowd disperse
their admiration evident
for the illusion
performed for them today
until all that is left
her painted Waler her clown
his made up face
washed away
to mourn her passing
but it does not matter
what the cost
is to her
so long as the crowd
is entertained
lol!