It is not my intention to paint
A morose portrait of your passing,
To draw you up as the sad clown.
After all you where are, were,
A comedian and I a poet.
But as a poet I am allowed the artistic
License to express a range of emotion.
A comedian is not because
When funny people stop laughing
The world stops listening.
You took too big bites out of life.
Did you take to much?
When the crowds stopped cheering
Was the reverberation of the silence
Too loud?
Was our laughter ever a kin to
That of the jackels?
Could we have saved you
By lifting you on to our shoulders
Rather than on a pedestal?
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 4:05 AM UTC
It is not my intention to paint
A morose portrait of your passing,
To draw you up as the sad clown.
After all you where are, were,
A comedian and I a poet.
But as a poet I am allowed the artistic
License to express a range of emotion.
A comedian is not because
When funny people stop laughing
The world stops listening.
You took too big bites out of life.
Did you take to much?
When the crowds stopped cheering
Was the reverberation of the silence
Too loud?
Was our laughter ever a kin to
That of the jackels?
Could we have saved you
By lifting you on to our shoulders
Rather than on a pedestal?
For Robin Williams, may your heaven be filled with laughter and joy and peace. The world will miss you.
