No More The Frowning Clown

aDarkerMind

why the look of disappointment?

honour this face of painted despair

with lessons taught. worship the frown.

let the bracelet of the neck

pour scorn upon the mangle of my smile;

 

let the children play

amongst the brambles of ample retreat

where apples fall from the eyes of the cheerful oak.

where scars of the tainted sky

drift away on the breeze of distempered trust

and enjoy the adolescence of my fake limp;

 

bounce outside the boundaries of control

trick or treat with the freckles of innocent minds

bring to the table of the tent

pixies of snow. pink balloons. a kitten for the chase;

jelly enough to pour scorn on the audience of my adult regret;

 

let the children of dance and song

drag me by the tail into realms of abundant gaiety

through walls of the ways of such serious intent

into the world of their own belonging.

 

let the children pave my way

through chocolate streets with lanterns of honeycomb light.

through halls of sugared almonds with goosebumps and raspberry eyes.

surely time has come to run away from the frowns of the clown

and enjoy instead the mischievous scrumping of plums;

 

let this adult play with the children of the smile

let him be the child he only dreamt he would ever be;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  • Author: Melvin James (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 31st, 2021 03:15
  • Category: Love
  • Views: 39
  • Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
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Comments +

Comments2

  • Goldfinch60

    The innocence of children can be so uplifting and bring back such wonderful memories into our lives.

    Andy

  • L. B. Mek

    'surely time has come to run away from the frowns of the clown
    and enjoy instead the mischievous scrumping of plums;

    let this adult play with the children of the smile
    let him be the child he only dreamt he would ever be'..
    that remnant thread
    of blissful ignorance to 'all things possible'
    remaining in that shrivelled paltry shred
    of our childhood's treasured memories
    excavated, with a poet's despairing ink
    to salvage
    that crippling perception of bleak reality
    threatening
    to drown-out all, but nihilism's penchant for misery..
    is what your words conveyed to me dear poet
    a great write, with wonderful use of characterised imagery!



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