Wednesday 4 May 2016

SEND IN THE CLOWNS

This poem was written in response to this video clip which I found very moving - 

SEND IN THE CLOWNS... Maureen Clifford © The ‪#‎ScribblyBark‬ Poet

A world gone mad - and devastation everywhere around
the centre ring is empty - none to see.
The carnival is over and the crowds are all long gone
and none left to recall festivity.
The bright lights are all shattered, now a tangled mass of wires
and shadows seem to shift and turn at whim.
He wanders, gun in hand, into the empty centre ring
and wonders just what has happened to him.


Send in the clowns, send in the clowns
they’ll make you laugh – might save a life.
They show no fear, make smiles from frowns.
Send in the clowns! Send in the clowns!


From high above a watcher watches, through a rifle sight
the man who once more graces centre stage.
He is a marksman in a war in which he had to play -
inside his heart is consumed with a rage.
He hears the music playing and he smells the greasepaint there,
he hears applause and cheers and yet no sound
at all is heard from where he is - it is all in his mind
and memories flood back of the fairground.


Send in the clowns, send in the clowns
they’ll make you laugh – might save a life.
They show no fear, make smiles from frowns.
Send in the clowns! Send in the clowns!


The watcher descends slowly, quietly - stands and gives applause
to the juggler all alone in centre ring.
Startled - the juggler cowers, fearing his death is at hand
yet he begs for mercy - hope a transient thing.
The watcher sits and from his uniform pocket appears
a red rubber nose - the kind that clowns still wear;
he placed the nose upon his face and struck a comic pose,
a big grin and he ruffled up his hair.


Send in the clowns, send in the clowns
they’ll make you laugh – might save a life.
They show no fear, make smiles from frowns.
Send in the clowns! Send in the clowns!


Then as quickly as it started the show ended - war returned
and the watcher turned and left the centre stage
as the magic of the moment that materialized was gone
when two men returned to a world mad with rage.
For a moment their humanity had surfaced from the mire,
for a moment each had recognized the worth
of a moment of hilarity in a world turned to dross
and two clowns enjoyed an interlude of mirth.

KHAMAH-D BLUE.




..Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBark Poet...


Khamah-D Blue is a red dog, he's a short dog I think you'll agree
Khamah-D Blue is a beaut happy chappy.  And yes!  He loves Elly and me.
Khamah-D Blue is quite cheeky, but that I am happy to see
'cause I know that it means he's settled - and can now live here happily.

Khamah-D Blue hates the mower and of motorbikes is not a fan.
My number one son has a motorbike and Khamah-D thinks that he can
kill it - not for want of trying.  When heard  Khamah-D cuts up rough
the minute they start, he howls and  barks regardless of my stern 'ENOUGH'.

Khamah-D Blue likes his tucker and likewise his green squeaky bone,
short he may be but when he's running free he's just like a mini cyclone.
Four short legs pumping like pistons, muscles as big as can be
power him flat-chat and Oh God!  Please not that, the little sods heading for me.

Life as we know it has changed now - gone are the days of sweet calm
there's thrust and parry almost akin to a battlefield out on the Somme.
Lucky for him he takes orders and shows no desire to roam

Lucky for him that we love him for he's now the heart of our home.