Energy Drink Circus

Discussion in 'Poetry Realm' started by Pent uP, Oct 9, 2007.

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  1. Pent uP

    Pent uP I'd Like to Fight Ten Men

    Feb 17, 2001
    Stopping by to say hello


    I used to inhale smoke. Smoke my eyes saw in a green hue.
    I don't know if it entranced my eyes or my lungs more,
    but it entranced me into a mesmerization I could get when I wanted.
    It was like I was eight and the circus was always around,
    I just had to buy the ticket.
    It was a succulant and thin smoke that was so easy to inhale
    I didn't want to let it out. The exhale was just as entertaining.
    I would place a desk lamp on elevated surfaces and watch the smoke signal
    the next circus act like a ring leader.
    It would metamorph into demons like the silhoettes of a sideshow.
    A sideshow I had my vcr eyes recording every episode of.
    They would shift into little animals while I blew giant rings and the two would intertwine
    and then dissapate together as if a M.nkey jumped through a ring of fire and tripped...
    At the end of every smoke I would wonder what the next show would be like.....

    I used to drink tall cups of forty ounce beverages, a pint at a time.
    It was a liquid textured in bronzed blood and rabies foam.
    When I drank it I entered the freakshow of the circus.
    Here I forced myself to accept the ugly and deformed situations I put myself in.....
    as something to greet with a smile.
    It caused jovial jabber with disasterous journey folk
    that were gridlocked with me upon my purchase of entry.
    While the snarling, parasite ridden, and abnormal stars of the show shook their dirt off onto me
    I used suds to wash my fabric of life.
    To bad I would rarely remember the rambunctious antics of those nights.....

    Now I drink energy drinks, and I hear some are cancerous.
    I can't say I feel a growth but I see justification in the associated title.
    Drinking these concoctions is like pouring a smooth stream of liquified candy,
    filling me up with what tastes like childish energy.
    This is, at least for now, like the main event.
    Watching the high flying acrobats, the way the adrenaline works,
    The tight rope tip toers as my body reacts a sip at a time,
    The no safety net masters.....tons of warning labels
    for something sold to everybody, that alters our internal chemical balance.
    Adrenaline and dopamine shooting up and down like bi polar A.D.D. spasms.
    A perfectly marketable main event that will leave everyone on edge;
    The edge.
    The edge of a seat to a cancerous reaction, physically.
    If I drink it too fast, I might see the performers wobble a little,
    At least for effect.
    My palms will begin to feel moist and clammy,
    my eyes will begin to widen as if my family members are the stunt people,
    maybe my feet will begin to tap like the drumroll to the end-all.
    My heart will sommersault and tangle my arteries into the safety net I wish THEY had.....
    given me.
    The craziest side effect is that the announcer doesn't seem to care how long they keep this up for,
    if they fall, all he will do is commentate.
    The anticipation grows and grows like a cancer cell.
    If I don't want it to end I can crack another one, and let them do an encore.
    There's only one problem with this event,
    The acrobats are all paid to take the fall, and eventually I crash.
    The sensory overload is the cancer that grows with the rush the drink gave me....
    and I crash when it overpowered my immune system.
    The acrobats take the fall.
    Lights out for the circus.

    But when the clapping commences the lights flip back on.
    My cancer goes in recession, and my internal chemical balance restores itself,
    The acrobats are replacable, everyone knows, not many care.
    They just want to be entertained..
    They just focus on center stage
    because that's what they paid for.
    They don't think of the underlying effects behind the backdrop,
    they don't think about the M.nkey up in flames once the ring is cleared,
    they don't care about the hunchback with the crab hands
    when they want to see high flying, death defying merchants of death;
    The soul proprietors of rolling, flying skulls that sell themselves.
    they care about the tickets sold to the sickest show;
    Their cousin of Death's masquerade,
    Their "Who wants to be a life line donor"
    Their technique to busy the tourists
    With My Energy Drink Circus
    Where alternate fees are applicable
  2. Pent uP

    Pent uP I'd Like to Fight Ten Men

    Feb 17, 2001
    can someone move this to the realm i posted in the wrong forum
  3. Janitor

    Janitor Guest

  4. RealMS

    RealMS Ne te quaesiveris extra

    Feb 27, 2004
    ^The gist of this, goes for many things in life. I'm glad to have read something by you. It's been a long time.
  5. Pent uP

    Pent uP I'd Like to Fight Ten Men

    Feb 17, 2001
    thank you love
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