Wednesday 13 June 2012

Freak Show



The Ring Master:


Don’t be afraid of the freak show

It exists for your relief

At being safe

from this

defect;



This spell of madness and despair

Is spared you



Don’t be too assured

That horror will not come.



The freak, the freak is here on show



But your despair is hidden

And in the closet dungeon

It will only stir when bidden



Shhhhh the freak show

Shhh the freak

Do not let it ever

Speak.



It must not call to you by name

Inside its cage it must remain



But you will pay the price to stare

And hurriedly flee in the cooling air.

Its chill is gone but the memory’s there



The freak still lives as you pass on.

Does one gaze linger when the day is done?



Off with the freak show

Off with its head

Only the perfect are raised from the dead.



Bring me the wonderful

Bring me a date

Bring me the freak on a spike from the gate



We must be beautiful

we must be free

Speak to me never of the freak in me.



Fear and loathing

Fear and pain

These are the items on the list of shame



Who will cross them one by one

Off the agenda

Till their day is done?



Who will look them in the eye

And feel their sorrow

As the world walks by



Come to me master

Come to my show



Only you can understand

How all the lines go.



You in the subtext

You in the stall

You in the balcony

You in the hall.



Come to the freak show

Come and hear me speak



All of me is up for view

But only you will weep.





June 6th 2012

2 comments:

  1. Wow Sarah, that is an incredibly powerful poem. Thank you SO much for sharing it with us! It speaks to me of the parts of me that I fear will be viewed by others as freakish. Interestingly, these parts of me are probably the most authentic and vulnerable parts of who I am. Something for me to chew on.

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  2. Off with the freak show

    Off with its head

    Only the perfect are raised from the dead.


    WONDERFUL. This is a great mirror game - who is a freak, the freak made whole - and then indeed only the perfect are raised from the dead. The skill in the poem is what it doesn't say, a silent hymn to redemption...

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