Life is a court and I am its jester
A miserable comic with a knack for obsolescence
The bells on my hat draw disgraceful attention
To the tasks I cannot juggle
And the knives I cannot dodge
And yet, I make them laugh
If only at my misery
At least I can’t say
I’m nobody’s fool.
Sitting hurts when your happy
Sickness aches when your stale
Stutters fall flat in the hail
Still, silence emerges the most scrappy
Never was one to take off
Noble and steadfast
Not once did I leave you cast off
And Now yet I’m the one who’s last
This feels like kismet
Though one with no fate
Your gave me to dark burden of hate
Then proclaimed that “this is what I get”
To you I’m a dark comedy
Funny but also sad
A beholder of tradgity and oddity
Only A guilty pleasure to be had
You see those voices on the screen
But I hear them at noon
Telling me I better start begging soon
Or else you’ll be gone with the leaves of green
And those leaves will burn
Then dissipate into a firey ash
The ash will grind as my lungs churn
And those lungs becoming the fire of my match
I performed a little entertainment at a teen age hospice.
This lovely 15 year old little girl just wanted from me her first passionate kiss.
I thought to myself, "What is the harm? This poor young girl is going to die,
certainly before she ever gets a chance to testify."
I know that sounds very bad of me,
but with only two words,
I can make it worse,
True Story.
KIDSTER DISCLAIMER
The above never happened obviously.
I was just experimenting with regards to writing dark comedy.
Talk to me of War
And ask of me to comment ?
I would do an injustice to put my thought's into words
So I would rather refer you to
Or point you in the direction or ask you to watch
A black comedy called
Blackadder Goes Forth
The Final Episode
Set in the Trenches of World War 1
And if you don't come away
Bleary eyed with your heart and soul not touched
Then nothing I could ever write or say
Would make the slightest bit of difference anyway
SOOTHING STRANGERS
Two sweet old ladies serve to strangers - strays.
Carafe of wine and conversation soothes.
No need for pillows soft. They do not stay.
The old maids learned their craft in Summer’s youth.
A visit from a newly married man —
Their nephew’s scared for them, alone and frail.
His daft and anxious mood akin to clan.
His aunts, they mutter, that he’s very pale.
Their brother charges down the stairs. He thinks
He is the presidential “teddy bear.”
He’s digging locks to bury all who drink.
Of all the callers seen not one they spare.
A kindly threat from wry and wrinkled face.
Delicious choice — this arsenic and lace.
7/22/2018
Your Finest Sonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Massey
*Arsenic and Old Lace was a dark comedy starring Cary Grant.
Falsified and hypnotized.
Broken.
Monopolized.
Incurable and in need.
Overpopulated;
And alone.
Aggresively ignorant.
Proud.
A world full of:
Tattered sincerity.
Ambushed happiness.
Hot tears and cold smiles.
Hollow people looking for....
Something..
To feel alive;
Sometimes I feel like
we're already too dead to find it.
-James Kelley 2011©
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