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Let's Pretend it's April - Nov. 4
Rules: Write a poem for LPiA on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a New Reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month, have written 30 poems for the month of November. (or one, or six, or fifteen) Prompts may be revisited at any time. All members are welcome.
Topic : Write a poem inspired by an amusement park ride or attraction.
Form : Any
Line requirements: 8 or more
Feel free to reply with comments or kudos as you wish.
Questions?
Posts: 262
Threads: 112
Joined: Dec 2016
Anticipation
It's not the speed, or rickety wheels,
nor even the sudden dips and falls.
It's the mind game of it all, the hill,
the slowly inching upward, click...click
...click.---then: teetering on the brink.
Three seconds of hell as time stands still
and knowing there's a fall. It's a taunt.
Check exits: none. A twist in the gut,
a sinner's breath before confession.
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara
Posts: 1,213
Threads: 250
Joined: Nov 2015
Things Missed
There was a merry-go-round
at Coney Island, at the Zoo,
or maybe by the lake.
Less wonderful than bumper cars
or a wooden roller-coaster
but I could get on alone.
Climbing up on
a carved wooden horse
was challenge enough at that age;
picking one that moved
required noting how
their poles differed,
shiny chrome or painted.
There was, I think,
a ticket dispenser instead
of brass and iron rings
but of course it was too far
or wasn’t there...
memory fails.
One thing I never figured out
was that the horses near the edge
didn’t move. So simple,
makes the mechanism less complex
and encourages big kids
leaning out for tickets.
Things you never notice,
hidden relationships,
false memories. I coulda been
Newton realizing orbits
not as circles but ellipses
made the numbers work.
 Non-practicing atheist
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Joined: Sep 2015
Rollercoaster
Down the Astoria's elevator
to the pits in the city's heart
that once smelled of stale cigarettes.
The filtered oxygen isn't as refreshing,
the kinetic lights don't quite satisfy
like once before the ignorance
worn like a veil over a newlywed
before the ripping of a heart.
Crit away
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Threads: 230
Joined: Oct 2010
52 Inches
I remember when I grew
tall enough to die.
The metal cage creaking
as I stepped up into it,
lap belt stopping above my knees
securing only air
more suggestion than restraint,
the door that kept rattling
even shut. Each jolt
tugging the connected lap belt.
I gripped harder,
then the grind of the motor
launching toward the sky.
The girl’s weight pinning me
to the side of the cage.
Coins rained down.
My eyes fixed on the door
through each spin.
The bar pulled from my grip.
Then air.
I staggered, I’d forgotten
how to walk.
I crouched beneath
the height bar again.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
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He would never graduate
Lost in the scene to be cool
His field trip with the high school
Head of his class never late
On a dare a stupid dare
The buckle undone he stood
Tracks crossing coasters he would
traumatize everyone there
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
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Joined: Oct 2012
The problem with being a shit Engineer
Billy Butler had eczema, brown fingers
and a cough that made me close my eyes.
Stamped his initials on all his tools
until the fool left a spanner inside a turbine,
he lost 16 blades and his job.
Billy Butler lost a finger and most of his teeth
with bad breath that could close my eyes
Signed his name on a contract to maintain
theme park rides, until he forgot to tighten
a high tensile bolt.
Three young girls lost their legs and
5 years of their lives. The news report
made me close my eyes.
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
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Joined: Oct 2010
(11-05-2025, 10:42 AM)Keith Wrote: The problem with being a shit Engineer
Billy Butler had eczema, brown fingers
and a cough that made me close my eyes.
Stamped his initials on all his tools
until the fool left a spanner inside a turbine,
he lost 16 blades and his job.
Billy Butler lost a finger and most of his teeth
with bad breath that could close my eyes
Signed his name on a contract to maintain
theme park rides, until he forgot to tighten
a high tensile bolt.
Three young girls lost their legs and
5 years of their lives. The news report
made me close my eyes.
Loved that, Kieth. Good to read you again.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
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Threads: 466
Joined: Nov 2013
They're bringing back human zoos in St. Louis
only the skin's not as dark, the customs not as alien,
the names are all well-known, and the price
of admission is to simply
wear a mask.
Il Carnivale accoglie la Quaresima
con i peccati cosi' cardinali
l'inferno necessita i cerchi nuovi.
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Life in a freefall
To slowly climb the hill,
You feel the thrill,
Tardily your stomach
Flies.
At the top,
Time stands still.
Surrender fears,
Before the drop.
Your meal shaken to slop.
Free fall chaotic, fast
The feeling won't last
Accept it now,
Surrender or be crushed.
Otherwise, turned to dust.
The cart sways to a stop
This wasn't an attraction,
It was life,
Better live it wise.
I know that rhyme, rhythm, and meter are not academically standardized.
I am well aware of that, yet I primarily do free verse, and it's based on instinctual writing.
I try to avoid academic language or structure. My poems are not meant to convey a single answer.
I try to convey the unknown through minimalism, mostly dense short stanzas with many line breaks.
If you'd give a critique, please keep this in mind.
Posts: 487
Threads: 207
Joined: Dec 2017
(11-05-2025, 10:42 AM)Keith Wrote: The problem with being a shit Engineer
Billy Butler had eczema, brown fingers
and a cough that made me close my eyes.
Stamped his initials on all his tools
until the fool left a spanner inside a turbine,
he lost 16 blades and his job.
Billy Butler lost a finger and most of his teeth
with bad breath that could close my eyes
Signed his name on a contract to maintain
theme park rides, until he forgot to tighten
a high tensile bolt.
Three young girls lost their legs and
5 years of their lives. The news report
made me close my eyes.
This is unusual, and wonderful
Posts: 453
Threads: 372
Joined: Sep 2014
Universal Studio
Mind glides, turkey-vulture
through a window;
is it the mute brain that feels?
the cross that makes the transparent
veil not a mirror?
Sense of childhood
feels the flaming boat on the water
of the animatronic shark:
Are my nerves wearing
a hood?
The autumn trees like movies;
the bedroom, with its walls
and trunk, like a comic book.
Godzilla, my brainstem,
King Kong picks up and drops
, yeah, me.
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Threads: 58
Joined: May 2022
she rolled in like a Gypsy
riding the west wind
promising the sky to the horizon.
Safety guaranteed,
I gladly stood in line waiting
for her to punch my ticket.
I boarded too late to realize
that ride was more than
my heart could stomach
Posts: 487
Threads: 207
Joined: Dec 2017
(10 hours ago)brynmawr1 Wrote: she rolled in like a Gypsy
riding the west wind
promising the sky to the horizon.
Safety guaranteed,
I gladly stood in line waiting
for her to punch my ticket. …. An amusement park ride. Also, a woman who has…options
I boarded too late to realize
that ride was more than
my heart could stomach … an amusement park ride and also an infatuation. There could be an actual girl ticket clipper, or the ride could be a metaphor.
Good gosh. This pome admits two different meanings, all within the constraints of LPiA.
Great iob!
(11-04-2025, 01:36 PM)Quixilated Wrote: Anticipation
It's not the speed, or rickety wheels,
nor even the sudden dips and falls.
It's the mind game of it all, the hill,
the slowly inching upward, click...click …. Great lines!!!
...click.---then: teetering on the brink.
Three seconds of hell as time stands still
and knowing there's a fall. It's a taunt.
Check exits: none. A twist in the gut,
a sinner's breath before confession.
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