Desolate clown's
traveling train
tours famed cities
onto quaint towns.
He mimicks glee
for his ousted
heart's sutures
are dismissive
frowns.
Balloon twisting's
what he knows--
cause joggeling act
makes kids mope;
And sparking globe-nose
bombards
the Top's bleachers
with plumes
of blinding smoke.
His onesie sports
ink-stains for color;
And oily-face
with white base
sweating turns
cream-soupy butter;
Shoved and ridiculed
by crowds-even peers,
cause he studders.
His Mass Bay clown
soles have holes--
with grimy socks,
torn by nails and corns.
Grey's his story--
when a caboose's
the only corner
where he
can call home.
He'll tumbling fall
to gain their laughs-
cringing weeps
in silence--
from prying eyes.
The show must go on--
cause he's a star;
Like his forefathers
before him-since then past on.
my hands are cracked and bleeding
I gag as bone protrudes
but the show must go on.
my hands are tightly bandaged
once i disappear behind the screen
and light illuminates my hands
I look perfect.
I steady my tremors
and put my focus
into my performance.
I wish that someone
would peer behind the screen
kiss my hands
and hydrate my skin
with tears
but instead
I watch others puppet shows
at the slightest mistake
I waste no time
I rip the paper
but there they stand
soft, unscarred hands
I’m forbidden form their theater
for ruining the show
I learned to stop letting
my insecurities show
but I always worry
that others
struggle the same
almost to a fault
but instead
I hide behind the curtain
bandaging my broken hands
Frail crescent moon hanging feebly
Ghost of a shadow in the dark
Unpretentious stars take the stage
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Last night i dreamt
Of being around a dead Charlie Kirk
Strategizing with a small group of guys.
I was just there, like at the next table over,
And got the feeling that while it was clear
Charlie was dead, his advisors/friends weren’t.
It was fascinating to hear them talk of his death,
Its impact and the way forward.
The vibe was upbeat
Energetic and inspired
As I imagine it was when he was alive,
At least alive on Earth in the body he had.
I was just a fly on the wall,
But it was cool to see
The show must go on
And on indeed it does.
(9/20/25)
I look on, reciting lines, reacting, responding,
the lights are dim, the stage is cold.
I dance across the scene, choreographed to my solitude,
hurt, tired, done, but I never stop.
Tears roll, screams echo, but I never stop.
I almost collapse, I can't go on, but I never stop.
I'm dead, my body rotting, but I never stop.
I look to my audience, my muse, my purpose,
I can't deny them, I have to please them,
Regardless of consequence, the show must go on.
I have been reduced to a corpse that has been revived,
revived for entertainment, for their amusement and amazement,
I can't refuse, I can't disobey, I am a slave to the arts.
I can still hear her, although I left her behind,
I can hear her, sobbing, pleading, begging me to stay.
Begging me to stay with her, to leave the cult in which I am trapped
I can still hear her, haunting me,
"The theatre is dark, the seats empty, the stage silent- so why are you still acting...?"
Once again, he dresses himself with flour-puffed face,neck ruffles and oversized shoes ,
all this fanfare for kids wiggling Barney Bailey shrieks :
He juggles coins, flashes a silly mime while blistered thoughts knead in the circus of a mind:
his son lost lying in a bed of snuffed dreams exiting from the ghastly night while clouds dim beneath the marquee...
Giggles flood the rows where laughter drowns a sea of guffaws; a moment when life becomes a lampoon a farce
an illusion :
No one knows the polka dot tears which press inside a clown's leaking heart
as he traces the wild grins of youngsters seeking his presence ,
youngsters like his own lifeless child--
own child he did not watch go the light...
his false laughter turns into silent howls
imploring just an intermission from
the stage.
But the show must go on where the absurdity of man is , once again , enacted.
His seamless flow comes from
the most high above
so there's no blocking God
& his words of love
They descend from clouds on backs
& wings of doves
falling kamikaze style from abodes above
This irritates a few so in there
lies the rub
but the show must go on as it
is made with love
It's like he's in the soaps on screens
lacking the pull of plugs
but still electrifies like eels fiiled a tub
He opens his wings of love for those
in need of hugs
after laying down the sword
in a flat on Persian rugs
The emotions poured from him
like waterfalls & floods
because he'd overcome the dams
blocking divine liquid love
You tell me to stop
How can I
When the porcelain play never stops
It has to keep going
For the crowd
Yet, the cracks...
They are slowly taking over
Slowly breaking
my so carefully built play
my life
my happiness
The cracks get bigger, can they see?
no amount of joy can seal them now.
The crowd, it laughs. I'm glad. They don't need to see my cracks
Yet...
Is this the end?
Is this where my porcelain facade finally shatters?
Will this be the final bow? The last act before it ends?
Will I be brave enough to take my last bow?
No..I cannot.
I try to gather my broken porcelain pieces back together, hastily.
I don't care how they are put, as long as they are hiding the scared, frail monster.
I look up at the crowd knowing, tonight won't be the last act.
The show must go on, for now and forever because of my cowardly behaviour. I don't bow.
I finish with a grin, a wide tooth filled grin that is the perfect finishing touch to my porcelain facade.
My perfect disguise.
My beautiful porcelain play
Midnight comes and I'm lying in my bed wide awake due to
Anxious thoughts of what will happen tomorrow at the
Staff Christmas party. No doubt the alcohol will flow leading to
Questionable decisions made by myself in order to entertain others
Unnecessarily to cover my true inner self. I am seen by others as an
Extrovert, when in reality, I'm longing to be alone. Ideally, I'd be more
Reclusive than I let on, but the show must go on, and as the office clown, I
Am always expected to do a prank on a co-worker or spin a yarn. I am
Definitely hiding behind a mask, as so many others do. It's easier than
Expressing my true feelings and being who I want to be.
Flapping gay garment hung on balcony bannister
Trots obstinate flung spun over railing
Fixated brazen Brigette immune to embarrassment
Boosted bemuse formats never failing
Composed to procure prominence, step with stars
Stage bound show must go on motto
Constellation shift slides velvet curtain aside ajar
Planets orbit origin wins Lyceum lotto
Horoscope high hope performs fame premonition
Bright light box office tickets Brigette
Halcyon sky spiral beehive secures each audition
Sixties seductress frequency fills seats
23rd June
Absurd Truth
Characters in action
Talents in multiplication
Shapes and sizes of many version
Skills on display with tension
Over the top ropes one would gape
Under the ropes one can escape
Apron of thick mattress
Arena of countless matches
Highlighted are dressed to kill
Fronting the crowd that fill
Seats of spectators that cheer
Feats of competitors, not jeer
Matches roll with blunder
Rumbling and grappling like thunder
Crutches and splints spread over
Bodies of the bruised fall over
Grueling matches live on
Under any pressure show must go on
It's not "business as usual" that linger
Players of theatrics in danger
Venues are slated by dates
Participants stipulated as mates
Previews of expected bouts
Reviews that excite and shouts
Year after year is the Rumble
Inside the ring that crumble
Event that sounds so noble
Fame, not fortune that bubble
A prelude to Wrestlemania
An interlude of regalia
A shot coveted in spotlight
A spot asserted with delight
Let's get ready to rumble!...
I miss the me before my hope was stolen in broad day light
Sadness impressed it's will on my mind
Making my mind sick
So, to all the kids "take your vitamins"
My mind doesn't feel like mines
I have a couple of time trackers that I try to race from time to time
Feeling like I just can't find the energy to simply live a normal life
My mind is often moving too fast for my body
I feel like a nobody when I'm around everybody
Knowing it's not true
Mind tricks have me thinking maybe my time is coming to an end
Telling myself you know that's not you
It's your shadow
The dark side trying to finish you
My shadow is my best friend that I never wanted to meet
A constant battle
I wish I could cut my shadow off
But I can't get rid of it without killing myself
You need the dark side, past, and future in order to grow
It may not be a part of the life you want to show
But the show must go on
And then I receive the count down
On in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...
Hello vengeance let's kill my depression
p.s. the shadows only cool me down now, I won't let the darkness take over...
I have relinquished my stage;
content now to be a silent audience
watching myself.
I observe that garmented voice
as it feed words into digital fonts
watch it act-out in a dimly lit theater,
a small auditorium yet it reaches far.
Occasionally this jobbing actor
glances my way
suspecting he is being watched,
he may take a bow
in my general direction. or clear his throat,
as if apologizing for an under-rehearsed
performance. It’s just as well
he cannot see my face.
If I were not there to listen
who would be so understanding
or patient?
Metaphorically speaking,
who would sweep the stage, turn off the lights,
then write a play or plot for the next time
that voice needed to play its part?
Up to the chicken coop, not too fast.
It’s a bit slow sloshing through snow.
Four inches of white
landed overnight
Eggs not cheap— under quilt fast asleep.
The work must be done— a prize you won.
Before the sunrise, your sloshing
not too fast,
a bit slow,
for the show must go on.
Remember Springtime
when you brought the boy—
he was six; oh how fun sitting would be.
Oh the little rascal gathered them all
out of the nest, into one
heartbreak basket.
Eggs not cheap— under the quilt fast asleep
2/16/2022
Life on the grand stage,
an ancient drama.
From, "untouchable",
to holy, "Braman".
One chews the sandal,
one anoints the head.
One's venerated,
the other's just dead.
There's an old saying,
life is for learning.
But the villain says,
Books are for burning.
The show must go on,
the great endeavor.
The plot of a man,
that lives forever!
date:2/12/22
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