Bret 1h

i wear my nice sweater
for the performance.
but i still put on the makeup
the wig
the shoes.
never let anyone
decide when im ready
even me.

i danced for my supper.
and ate it with the fork
from the road that divides me.

two tall blondes
brought me flowers
we took pictures.
i left the roses at the show

Andreas Simic Dec 2017

Zack and Camill went up the hill
Oh what a thrill

With pail in hand
The trip would be far from bland

As the class clown
He wasn’t entitled to a crown

But was prone to tumbling down
Camill was his peach with eyes a brown

Was this the day to plant that first kiss
Or another for remiss

Only time and a climb would tell
If he would finally ring her bell

He was surely under her spell
One she had cast and for which he befell

Was today finally it
His heart long ago being lit

His biggest fear of all
That he would suffer another fall

And have to race home
All alone

To his bed
Where he would tears shed

Andreas Simic

Brianna Dec 2017

Keep putting on a good front, let the world see that gleaming, brilliant smile you wear so well.
Let the laughter pour out like the drinks that keep sliding towards you on that bar.
Please, continue to be the class clown, make them laugh, make them wonder how you're oh, so, cool.

You put on a good front, babe.
You sure made them believe.
You put on a perfect smile, babe.
You sure let them wonder.

But I know you better then they do.
I know that smile hides sadness and fear of never being perfect.
I know those eyes hide hate for yourself and where you're at in life.

So, go ahead babe, put on that smile you wear so well.
Please let them see you laughing because god forbid they see you cry.
Continue being the confident one because we know the rest of us need a little more help.
Just remember the next time you talk about me, you're just as afraid of failing as I am.

Kay Nov 2017

If everyone were a clown,
I’d be the worst.
Clowns aren’t suppose to make you frown,
I just bring you down.

Painted on smile,
But it’s not really there.
See its an illusion,
Don’t chuckle and sneer

Washing off makeup
But only with tears
A day full of syrup
Full of despair

Take the gun and cock it
Please don’t mock this
Lifetime of sadness
Everything is madness.

Water squirts
It’s just a toy
It just hurts
I just wanted joy

One more time
It is time to die
Gun on head
I want to be dead.

Hovering over the trigger
His eyes getting bigger
Wet again
With blood

Its not water
On the ground, a thud
Today he slaughtered

It was a man,
It was, himself.

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Mono Nov 2017

And so the final curtain has set

Its been great playing in your circus act
but now you hear the audience clapping

Its time to put an end to your show
goodbye foolish clown

No matter where you are

You are just sorrowful man behind a smiling mask

Hold on to yourself
Nothing is as it seems
You simply can´t tell
What goes on behind the scenes

Hold on to someone
Who doesn't bring you down
and alone in front of everyone
Looking like a clown

I can't say I understand
No one really does
Let´s live in a dreamland
And break all the laws

Hold on to yourself
Don´t feel pressured to transform
You can't always tell
When your whole soul is gone

2. November 2017

Feel free to leave feedback if you want :)

the thought of death is an uneasy thought
in my case it's a bloody nightmare

on the 16th day of May, 1967, Mr Youngblood took his 6th grade class to the playground as he always did, every Tuesday after lunch. The kids spread out to their usual positions. Some played catch with Mr Youngblood. A few, like Roger and me went to the basketball net and several played on the monkey bars, both of which were part of the big asphalt square. Just opposite this area was the soccer field and then some good distance between that and the Middle School. Lots of open space for a bunch of suburban kids to have fun. The Sun was bright and the wind was light and the temperature was right around perfect. We had been playing for 10 minutes or so when the wind picked up and clouds seemed to move in out of nowhere. We all thought it must be a storm coming...and it was. A distant laugh froze everyone. At first no-one saw him, but then we all saw him at once. He was walking across the soccer field towards us, long deliberate strides. Where he came from is a mystery as there was nothing but open land behind him for several hundred yards. He was tall and lanky and as he approached us, I noticed that his face was contorted and discolored...a pale, almost painted white and he had jet black hair combed back, long and greasy. His lips were thin and black and his eyes bloodshot and almond shaped. He wore a black suit, a black shirt and candy apple red tie. He looked like a mosh-up of Curry's Pennywise and Ledger's Joker, only I would have traded for either one of those bastards right now over this guy, ten to one. He came to the edge of the concrete square. Johnny pissed his pants and Charlene fell from the monkey bars, landing on her left side and causing a compound fracture, her radius protruding from her skin leaving her hand dangling like a dead fish. She did not scream either because she was scared it might draw his attention or she was going into shock...or maybe both. He took two more steps forward and then began laughing as if he'd just heard the funniest joke he'd ever been told. His teeth looked as if they'd been replaced with shark's teeth. I swear there were rows of them and his mouth stretched inhumanly wide. His laugh slowly winded down to a snarl, and he gave a long look to each one of us, as if he was burning the faces to memory. And then he spoke..."You children just go on having lots of fun! Well, except for you Johnny...didn't your Mom just rip you a new ass for pissing your pants at Grandma's? shame, shame!" And Johnny was off...tripping twice before he got his feet under him. "You run home and ...Ha Ha Ha...oh my...change your pants, you pathetic little shit!" Mr Youngblood picked up Charlene and started to carry her inside. By this time her pretty pink dress was soaked in blood. The freak addressed him. "Nice man...but you can't save them. In a few days they will all be mine." He laughed again and every kid ran for their lives back to the school. I was the only one who stayed. To this day I'm not sure why. He turned and walked towards me slowly. "What have we here? The little man isn't running with the others. Are you not afraid Billy boy? Afraid for your life?"...and he leaned in close...close enough that I smelled a foulness that cannot be described. "Because that is what I'm here for...your life!" "Who are you, I asked" and with that his dark black and pointed eyebrows raised and he straightened up. "Who am I...Who am I? My, my the boy has a backbone. The nerve to question while others lose control of their bladders. Well, I'll tell you who I am, child. I am God's worst nightmare. I am every dirty little secret thought you've ever had. I am evil in all it's forms wrapped up in one little package and sent to collect the souls of the innocent. All of you here today will be mine tomorrow. Roger will fall down the stairs off of his front porch and break his neck. Charlene will die from infection due to that nasty little accident and Becky will be hit by the school bus Thursday morning. That will be most nasty! Almost a decapitation. I won't bore you with the rest, but they will all die. know what Billy... I like you, so I'm thinking, perhaps...yes, I'm going to make a special offer to my new special friend. I won't take your soul until you die from natural causes. What do you think of that idea? At that moment, when your family is gathered round your bedside after suffering that...well, maybe you don't want to know the details... you will see a bright light...but you won't be going towards the light that moment I will place my hand on your shoulder and that light will slowly fade into darkness and we will meet again, and you will become my apprentice. So, what do you think of that, Billy? Do you want to be my apprentice, or do I kill you now? Come, come...I haven't much time!" I tried to answer, but my mouth was as dry as cardboard and I could only manage a weak gasp. That laugh again and he turned and walked away in the same direction..."I'll take that as a yes. Remember, you are mine upon your death, Billy boy!" The wind died and the Sun appeared again.
By the end of the week, every child on the playground that day had died...exactly as he stated they would.

And now you know why, even in my darkest days, I never, ever contemplate suicide.

this story was prompted by a Joker bobblehead I found in a collectibles store that is creepy as hell - I think I will make it my annual Halloween post!
Poetic T Sep 2017

Within beauty  
there is always the smile
                         of a clown

Its lips red bleeding on
             the petals of white.
Rose's haemorrhaging.

Within the fragrance of
                      clotted aromas,
we cling to the reflections of beauty.

Corrupted within the smiles
of a clown,
          bleeding on petals
of white roses corroding.

Brent Kincaid Sep 2017

Class clown;
Absolutely guaranteed to
Constantly fool around
Never do what you want him to.
Will astound
With outbursts meant to
Irritate, regale, distract
Take breath away and shock you.

Upside down;
Yes, he’ll stand on his head
He loves to make faces
And use accents like the poorly bred.
Turn around,
And moon from a swiftly passing car.
That gets attention just fine
And that is how his jokes usually are.

Noise abounds.
Songs, that are bawdy parodies
Or words and music he made up;
Creating portraits of current company.
Laughs found.
Especially if the joke’s not on you.
Class clown.
Entertaining is the only thing he can do.

Star BG Sep 2017

Standing at mirror,
I look into the image of a clown.
Hair, long with red pigtails.
Face, adorned with hearts scribed on cheeks.
Nose, small but having sparkling glow.

Standing at mirror
I gaze at
red lips, that pucker testing a silly grin.
Colorful dress that sways with many layers.

I look knowing
crazy mannerisms
or jokes are ready to jump out
at a moments notice.

Bell rings against mind.
It's time to get in my clown mobile
to ride the waves of cars to my destination.

A playing field
where it's open season
for clown-merriment to fill hearts  
Open season for kids
of all ages to gather,
as I collect hugs and smiles
for my road back home.

I am a clown of 31 years.
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