Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I need not search for the girls of summer,
need not write a poem for them for they are
beneath a bright August moon, rustles of dark
turning maple leaves and pitched voices,
laughter tussling with pipe organ notes
from the county fair, across the grassy field
the Ferris wheel bulbs burn deep blue
deeper red, yellow, orange smooth, pony tail
hair tumbling, smoother skin, smoothest hands
fumbling footsteps tip toeing toward shadows,
all that hair bathing in midnight orange cotton
candy blue, red, and yellow snow cones

I need not search for the girls of summer,
need not write a poem for them for they are
all tongue and grape licorice, leaning
against each other with thighs, whispering
into the ears of each other like young seashells,
let’s look at the stars until we both go blind

I need not search for the girls of summer,
need not write a poem for them for they are
there in all their female splendor, bodies framed
in unspoken clarity; I fear if one looks in on me
tonight, she will darken me.

"lets look at the stars until we both go blind"

LOVE THAT LINE MAN!

also i enjoyed your use of color, i pictured the Ferris wheel in my mind the way you hit it there

kudos!

Whoaisme,

Thanks. Glad you liked the line.

68degrees

an intriguing poem that seems to hint of summer intimacy from the past...in any case i like the scene you have created ....i went to a lot of county fairs when i was young

images from my youngest years appear,
the fair... bigger than christmas sometimes

most liked these words...

whispering into the ears of each other like young seashells,
let’s look at the stars until we both go blind

thanks

Saw:

My county fair is literally in my back yard, across a grassy field. Noise, lights…and those girls of summer...are up close and personal for about a week, every year for the last 25 years.

Thanks for your thoughts.

68degrees

justwait,

Watching the younger folks quite a trip, even after all these years. They walk by house, all hours of the day and night…cars park up and down my street…in the field behind my house. It's a treat…

I remember going to the fair as a youngster. I get to relive it once-a-year. Night especially reminds me of an old Super 8 movie or something…all the lights, sounds. An old newsreel, for sure. Rides still blast the old music, too. That's what the Carney folks like.

68degrees

carney folk...

I worked a fair back in '77... chattanooga... I was involved in a wonderful chain
of deli-restaurants then, and when the fair came to town we set up a sandwich trailer
just to serve the carnies after the gates were closed at night...

and I don't believe we even charged them for the food... we were a church community,
and took the opportunity to "witness" to them. it was a fun time, kind of a behind the
scenes sort of view and very interesting... the people that is

The fair and its people, both workers and visitors, is uniquely American. Hodgepodge, for sure, of what makes this a fun place to be. My sons are grown now but back in the day we would always walk through the fairgrounds while the rides were going up, the tents were being set up.

My fair is a "free fair"...meaning I can visit as many times as I want and I do. The parades of people, "the girls of summer"...have been parading coming and going past my house for years. My oldest son will still call, if he's not around, and ask about the fair...what's different, how are the crowds this year? He remembers the lights, the smells. It gets in one's blood.

68degrees

The fair and its people, both workers and visitors,
is uniquely American. Hodgepodge, for sure,

indeed, the carnival can be likened to a fragment of hologram...

one pixel of the endless universe