Part 1 - The Jester

 

The Jester

Where the laughter, was once thought to be eternal… emerald. Seeing the laughter, the smiles, and being able to erase the tears. That too is fading away. And it's not only the smiling faces, but the tears in my own eyes are gargling, and coming back. The jester is no longer capable of facing the world with his jokes, with his ironic miserable laughter, he is no longer capable of laughing.

 

How I loved to see you smile, and I still do. I used to do what I loved. I used to feel good about the humor I gave the world, my world. Now… my humor, is mocking me, in its own, no longer ironic, but heart breaking miseries. He lies there, in the corner of the room, staring at the mirror… incapable of finding the humor in it all. How can he give what he doesn’t have? He stands there in the spot light occasionally, and tries to find the laughter in him. In a charade, everyone's looking for the jokes, when even his tears are supposedly ironic. But this time they're true, yet useless, people only see what they want to see, as the spot light fades away, so does his steps, no smiles anymore, but no one knows, though it shows.

 

A Jester's Tale

 

Thunder reigns in the sky

Heavens, crying blood

Tears shed on goodbye

 

Hollow is that jester…

Miming at the door

Tears of heaven

Revealing pains he store

washed away his mascara

and masks from before!

 

Skeletons from his past

Tap-dancing at his step

Laughter fading fast

Tears…Showing he's but human

Fall at last…

And washes away what's left of his paint!

He knew that in eyes of the holy…

He was no saint!

He slips upon a wet leaf

And the clown falls down…

 

He had no heart he noticed

No beat inside

The voices of the tapping fade away

And with them his heart

He seemed to have forgotten he had

 

 

The clown is dead…

Now exit music…

Outgoes the play

The audience stood up…

Clapped…

And noticed not what he had to say

Nor the heart he felt as so ripped…

Watching it burn away

 

Audience stood up…

Wonderful, they said

And then walked away…

Why shouldn't they?

The clown is dead…

And that concludes the play!

 

 

By: The Black Iris, Of The Luminous Imperious

Reviews

[RHEA CROSLEY]

Very creative writing I like the way the true condition of the clowns heart was hidden from the crowed, it is much the case in life. I also appreciate the way the preface prepares you for this. The preface exalts this writing to a higher level. Thanks for sharing this master piece of a poem.

[Burr the Story Sorceres..]

Oh, I remember reading that poem. It made me so sad.
It's a sad thing, to lose the laughter. To not be able to smile. I wish I was I could wavy my hands and make the jester laugh again.
*jumps up and down making funny faces and wavying hands and arms as if trying to fly*
^_^ I girl can try, can't she?
This is well writen and makes me wanna morn for the poor clown.
I need to brush up on my reanimating skills. ^_^