This reminds of the lyric in the Journey song 'Faithfully" about circus life. Maybe she'll run away and join the normals? if one performs for too long, it's easy to forget one's true self. Thanks for being part of WG Word List!
You'd be surprised. I'm nearly 60 years old and no raving beauty by any stretch of the imagination. It doesn't happen as often as it did when I was younger, but as my grandmother once said to a man she invited to dinner and he proceeded to get fresh with her, "Judas Priest, don't you fool men ever think of anything else?" Nothing is true across the board, but for the most part, old women just want to be left alone and old men just won't get a clue.
Word list poems, and word lists within poems are great fun. This works as an allegory for most women. Many of them are experts at seduction and manipulation. Being attractive has its plus side too.
Dearest Helen, For some it is a sad life and in the end there is no escape, no joy for reflecting back on life... Never heard the song, and Hans van der Linden, who posted it, must be of Dutch descent. Hugs, Mariette
This is so poignant, Helen! You paint a vivid picture as you put yourself in that woman's shoes and with such few words too. I like how the shape of the poem echoes a shapely vase. And what a lovely bittersweet song to accompany it!
This reminds of the lyric in the Journey song 'Faithfully" about circus life. Maybe she'll run away and join the normals? if one performs for too long, it's easy to forget one's true self. Thanks for being part of WG Word List!
ReplyDeleteThe curse (and maybe the blessing) of growing old... at least there will be no leering men.
ReplyDeleteYou'd be surprised. I'm nearly 60 years old and no raving beauty by any stretch of the imagination. It doesn't happen as often as it did when I was younger, but as my grandmother once said to a man she invited to dinner and he proceeded to get fresh with her, "Judas Priest, don't you fool men ever think of anything else?"
DeleteNothing is true across the board, but for the most part, old women just want to be left alone and old men just won't get a clue.
I love how this poem circles back to the start - the cycle of life as carnival and such pathos in her adjustment before the mirror
ReplyDeleteWhat a stunning poem Helen. And I love the song as well.
ReplyDeleteWord list poems, and word lists within poems are great fun. This works as an allegory for most women. Many of them are experts at seduction and manipulation. Being attractive has its plus side too.
ReplyDeletePoignant character study, Helen.
ReplyDeleteThat's a sad picture: young and lovely; old and wrinkled - the same life, the only life in both cases.
ReplyDeleteLike a convex mirror. Hopefully there was some pleasure outside of it.
ReplyDeleteSad poem. Performers, hypocrites by choice until too old. Then do they remember who they really are?
ReplyDeleteSad she can't break out of the circus life! Raw and real, great write!
ReplyDeleteLuv this poem and the music you chose
ReplyDeleteHappy you dropped by my blog
Much💛love
Ha, carnival life gets tougher, the older one gets. For us all. Smiles.
ReplyDeleteA gig's a gig, a poem a poem and tomorrow the next performance somewhere strutting the myth. Ain't it the truth.
ReplyDeleteIt is tough indeed, and you have captured it perfectly my friend!
ReplyDeleteDearest Helen,
ReplyDeleteFor some it is a sad life and in the end there is no escape, no joy for reflecting back on life...
Never heard the song, and Hans van der Linden, who posted it, must be of Dutch descent.
Hugs,
Mariette
This is so poignant, Helen! You paint a vivid picture as you put yourself in that woman's shoes and with such few words too. I like how the shape of the poem echoes a shapely vase. And what a lovely bittersweet song to accompany it!
ReplyDeleteAren't we all in our own carnival life?
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this. Sometimes I feel like I'm on a hamster wheel. Maybe it's actually a carousel.
ReplyDeleteSeems rather a universal life for us women until we get the courage to run away from it--and the carnival is a perfect metaphor, Helen.
ReplyDeleteI realised I already commented on this poem, Helen! But it was a pleasure to read it again! :-)
ReplyDelete