A Baptist Observes Mardi Gras

[ChristopherSea]

[christopherSea' pid='138745' dateline='1378727169']
Todd/Tectak/Rowens edit version 4.2

The zombies have awoken;
the harlequins don their caps.
They believe their foolish rites
will immortalize this night,
yikes! New title needed. Maybe "the babtist goes to marti gras?

but the Gods will turn their backs
on this eve’s garish façade
and disavow these dark sheep
who vandalize the twilight.

what happened to the Rhyme?
After feasting like gluttons
in anticipation of Lent,
they pilgrimage to nowhere
on a muddled anguine route

and lurch The Big-Uneasy
in ill-defined conga lines,
with no lucid purpose to
their nihilistic debauch. that's about the uglies phrase/line I've ever heard. It doesn't exactly roll of the tongue.

They’ll dance the evening lifeless,
while shaking canes and rattles,
snaking along warm asphalt,
freeing spirits from bottles.

Purblind in amber beer light,
they seek some neon beacon,
stumbling into false temples,
where faith could never thrive in. why the in? Completely unnecessary.

Todd/Tectak/Rowens edit version 4.2 Thanks gents!

-----------------------------------------------------------
Todd/Tectak/Rowens edit version 4: in progress

The zombies have awoken;
the harlequins don their caps.
They believe their foolish rites
will immortalize this night,

but the Gods will turn their backs
on this eve’s garish façade;
disavowing these dark sheep,
as they vandalize twilight.

After feasting like gluttons
in anticipation of Lent,
they pilgrimage to nowhere
on a muddled anguine route

to lurch The Big-Uneasy
in ill-defined conga lines,
with no lucid purpose to
their nihilistic debauch.

They’ll dance the evening lifeless,
shaking their canes and rattles,
as they snake the warm asphalt,
freeing spirits from bottles.

Purblind in amber beer light,
they seek some neon beacon,
stumbling into false temples,
where faith can not subsist in.


Todd/Tectak/Rowens edit version 4Thank you fellow poets!

---------------------------------
Todd/Tectak edit version 3

Queer zombies have awoken
and mad harlequins alike;
they believe their inane rites

will immortalize this night.
God turns an aloof shoulder
on this eve’s garish façade;

spurning this flock as his own,
that forages in twilight.
They’ll dance the evening lifeless,

shaking their canes and rattles,
and snake along warm asphalt,
freeing spirits from bottles.

They reel The Big-Uneasy
in ill-defined conga lines,
after feasting like gluttons,

in anticipation of Lent.
Their pilgrimage goes nowhere
at a languid anguine pace.

Their only clear objective:
swill this eve oblivious.
Purblind in amber beer light,

they seek some neon beacon,
stumbling into false temples
that no one could have faith in.

Todd/Tectak edit version 3 Thanks much,
I am starting to like this poem!


------------------------------------
todd edit version 2

The Gods have turned their backs
on this evening’s façade,
as the sun cautiously
closes an aloof eye.

Queer zombies awaken
and harlequins alike,
conducting futile rites
to immortalize this night.

They dance the eve lifeless,
shaking canes and rattles,
while snaking warm asphalt,
drinking spirits from bottles.

They reel The Big-Uneasy
within ill-defined ranks;
their bellies stuffed with pork fat
to compensate for Lent.

There’s no Yellow Brick Road,
or an Appian Way;
just an idle anguine route
to swill this eve oblivious.

Watch dim wits in beer light,
seeking neon beacons;
who sing in false temples
that no one could have faith in.


todd edit version 2 Thank you!
-------------------------

original

Sol warily closes
his reticent eye and
turns an averse shoulder
on this evening’s facade.

Queer zombies awaken
and harlequins alike,
all seeking pretexts to
immortalize the night.

They snake asphalt streets;
drink spirits from bottles,
then dance the night lifeless,
shaking canes and rattles.

In ill-defined ranks, they
reel The Big-Uneasy
on circuitous paths
befitting the anguine.

There’s no Yellow Brick Road,
or an Appian Way;
just idle routes to swill
this eve oblivious.

Watch dim wits in beer light,
seeking neon beacons,
who sing in false temples
that no one could have faith in.

Chris, this is just too Preachy/opinionated. Why work so hard? Why not let the creepy imagery do the work for you? No need to stand on rhetoric.
[/quote]

Thanks trueE! Good advice and the same recommendation was made by Rowens. It was not supposed to sound as righteous as this, but I believe that the piece was bastardized from dozens of edits to answer all of the queries from my critics.

The near rhymes are coincidence except the last one that you don't like. I burrowed the 'nihilistic debauch' from Kurt Vonnegut Jr, a favorite during adolescence. However, I guess, I will change it for you and Tom!

Once I iron out all of the language problems tectak had with it I will go back and maybe add a stanza or re-hone some of the lines for more eeriness.

As for the title, I just went with Carnival so folks know what it was about, when 'The Big Uneasy' was taken out for a while. I do like the thought that you put into your titles.

Ok, this morning a new edit is up thanks to your help!!