Muse for Monday

MantraTonight is Mantra’s night. What she has on the menu is a philosophical look into the drama with which we are inevitably surrounded. Even those who operate merely in the virtual world, eventually find themselves pulled into some sort of scam. The lengths to which some will go are simply mind-boggling.

If you cannot tell by her thoughtful snapshot tonight, this will be a poem born of social observation, an intricate look into the psychology of the events we endure and the events we survive. Mantra questions why we do the things we do. Fairies are not well versed in why humans do anything except inscribe musings of great import.

Please Be Seated

No seat belts are needed for this ride, as it is only the carousel. Do pick the animal which best represents your personality or whimsy.

This poem has been well-received, yet everyone who has read it thought it went down a different path. Neither you nor your neighbor will be in total agreement, which is fine. There is much to explore. The carousel will make more than one revolution.

You may be just joining the ride in motion, as it began last Friday with Poured Out and continued to develop on the Saturday Evening Post. Not unlike the Ode the Hateful Vocabulary, this poem brings to bear on the personal relationship ills with polysyllabic mallets. The cheat sheet is enabled.

Pop Culture

As this poem developed, I noticed a resemblance to the Autumn People. If you do not know the reference from Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes, take a moment to watch the library scene from the movie entitled the same, beginning at 2:00. See if you can draw the parallel or if you come up with something entirely different.

The Carousel from Something Wicked This Way Comes

A little mood music.

The Carousel

How desolate is the silence of the night.
The moon stands silent guard over endless fields.
A breeze brushes past without making a sound,
And the darkness is thick in its wake.

Scratches at my arm, not feeling quite right,
An eerie and unsettling sentience
Pawing at my soul. Clawing at my heart.
Huddled in my throat. No sound can I make.

A tempest caught inside my head. In my mind,
I gather my thoughts, lest they be pilfered.
Yet hoping the maelstroms cease quietly,
Whether in disinterest or of fatigue,

Allowing me time to heal once again.
Those freshly knitted scars are still tender
And unable to carry weighty problems.
Complications leave my mind in a fugue.

Endless excuses for backward logic.
Priorities randomly upside down
And inside out. Running ’round in circles
Until dizziest confusion sets in.

Again, smiting one’s nose to spite the face,
Only to realize one’s been bloodied
At its own hand, instead of exacting
Appropriate, rightful, timely revenge.

Worse still is serving it warm, where it is,
More often than not, dismissed sour grapes,
Leaving the potential lesson unlearned.
So, another round on the carousel,

Spinning past the scenery, not seeing
The emptiness behind the quaint façades,
But returning for more vacuous stunts
Without pausing to rest for a spell

In which to gather up one’s wits about
And fathom the abysmal blackening
The shells created in their pandering
For one’s attention, resources and time.

One freely opens the mind, purse and heart,
Yet fails to acknowledge no loss occurred
Because gifts had no announced strings attached.
Therefore, the taking was surely no crime.

The woe and strife, the stressors and heartache
Are merely illusions designed for one,
But sometimes we all fall for those cruelly
Sublime, immaculate machinations

Which connivingly ensnare humane minds
Preferring to divest charlatonesque
Qualities from those we closely embrace
Never fearing cannibalization.

When it comes home, and entrails are exposed,
Rather than adapt the safety device
To trap such wretched minions, pinned harmless,
We allow rehearsal of future wiles.

Still granting access to what we hold dear,
Building  up tolerance for scheduled pain,
Permitting abuse, loaning it money
To buy out our souls, while wearing a smile

Lest we be deemed the unscrupulous one
Who had wherewithal to turn on the light
And make the nocturnal demons and fiends
Run from practical reason out of fright.


Do you see the drama creators in your life as the Autumn People? Do you adapt? How do you stop the feeding? Have you gotten off the carousel? Would you like to?

© Red Dwyer 2012
Reblogging of this or any other post on The M3 Blog is expressly forbidden.
Copyright and Privacy Policy available in The Office.

Image, soundtrack and trailer from Something Wicked This Way Comes are all copyrighted (1983) to Walt Disney Studios.

Leave a comment


  1. I see them and most of the time I am able to slow the carousel down enough to walk off of the ride.
    Great poem Red. 🙂

    • Red

       /  March 19, 2012

      Thanks, Wendy. Good to see you tonight! Stepping off every once in a while is a great thing!

  2. No stops the feeding
    No exits the ride
    No, I don’t need your permission
    No, I don’t need your approval
    No, I don’t exist for your sake
    Yes — I dare

  3. PS. I do think something is broken. Notify me of follow-up comments by email generates a new follow email for each post. Instead of following M3, the coding wants each post confirmed. Instead of following M3, each post is followed. Not good. Puts a big strain on your guests Red and way too much clutter in their tracking database.

    • Red

       /  March 19, 2012

      This is something new. Most of the time the follow comments is off anyway…Hmm.

      • Yes this happened earlier on my comment, as it is now actually so I am going to have to click that off or I will be swamped with e mails about follow up comments on this post also…

        I hope you are enjoying your evening Red…

        Androgoth XXx

        • Red

           /  March 21, 2012

          This one only emails you if someone replies to your comment…not the whole thread.

          Have a wonderful morning,

  4. Hmmm…

    Given my neighbours ‘NO’ has become the word of choice!

    Been on the carousel and now I seek to leave it and try a better ride…

    God Bless!


    • Red

       /  March 20, 2012

      Even when I worked in an amusement park, I never could stand the carousel…even to operate it, which likely explains my inherent dislike for the calliope.

  5. Bear

     /  March 21, 2012

    We all ride the merry go round in one way or the other. And boy would I like to get off of it.

  6. Sometimes time is taken away from the carousel, but it does take some planning! I enjoyed the poem Red.

    • Red

       /  March 21, 2012

      I think you are right. We have to make the conscious decision to get off of it. Glad you liked this one.

  7. A very dark poem, but found it beautiful. Expresses what I sometimes feel when I’m down and out.

    We live in a wounded and broken world, where we sometimes feel being suck in a black hole of loneliness and emptiness.

    The challenge is to get out of that black hole, and claw ourselves back to the light…
    Matt recently posted..The Vision at LouisvilleMy Profile

    • Red

       /  March 22, 2012

      Thank you. The image of the carousel is one which haunts many. We do get sucked onto it. Glad to see you tonight, Matt.

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