En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Revivification

I could have been a funny circus clown
With multi- colored makeup on my face.
I could have been the greatest fool around
My face on posters all over the place.
But I chose instead to be a poet
An unknown writer who now writes verses.
A self indulging choice I must admit
But its satisfaction reimburses
The time and effort I devote to it.
I will never be a Poe or Whitman
Nor poet laureate I must admit
And that famous funny-circus-clown man?
I resurrect him occasionally
Like in this present piece of poetry.

poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Life Was A Circus

If lide was a circus
I'd be your clown,

I'd get on your pony
ride your merry-go-
round.

if life was a circus
under your big tent,

make love with you
forever
we'd be heaven spent.

if life was a circus
in your arena we would
play,

with each other forever
forever, and a day.

but life is not a circus
I am not a clown,

all I can ever do
is watch your merry-go-
round.

poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beneath The Face of A Clown

My mother’s uncle was a circus clown
forever tripping up and falling down.
A circus performer through and through
who would try anything they asked him to.

With a tiny umbrella attached to his hat
and a blonde haired wig under that.
A huge red nose that he honked so loud
always brought a smile from the crowd.

Apart from that he never made a sound,
but the humour button he always found.
He made the most timid of children smile
by sharing his talent for just a little while.

But beneath the face of this funny clown
was one of anguish, sadness, and frown.
A tragic event struck the funny man’s life
whilst performing with a throwing knife.

A hooded assistant attached to a turning wheel;
her shout of okay released the knife of steel.
A gasping audience watched it cut through the air…
yells and cries witnessed the death of her.

A lapse of concentration, a hesitant troubled mind,
an unfortunate twist of fate that was so unkind.
It was then he discovered that his throwing knife
had found the heart of his newly wed wife.

poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cloony The Clown

I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown
Who worked in a circus that came through town.
His shoes were too big and his hat was too small,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes,
He had a green dog and a thousand balloons.
He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
And every time he did a trick,
Everyone felt a little sick.
And every time he told a joke,
Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke.
And every time he lost a shoe,
Everyone looked awfully blue.
And every time he stood on his head,
Everyone screamed, 'Go back to bed!'
And every time he made a leap,
Everybody fell asleep.
And every time he ate his tie,
Everyone began to cry.
And Cloony could not make any money
Simply because he was not funny.
One day he said, 'I'll tell this town
How it feels to be an unfunny clown.'
And he told them all why he looked so sad,
And he told them all why he felt so bad.
He told of Pain and Rain and Cold,
He told of Darkness in his soul,
And after he finished his tale of woe,
Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no,
They laughed until they shook the trees
With 'Hah-Hah-Hahs' and 'Hee-Hee-Hees.'
They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks,
They laughed all day, they laughed all week,
They laughed until they had a fit,
They laughed until their jackets split.
The laughter spread for miles around
To every city, every town,
Over mountains, 'cross the sea,
From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee.
And soon the whole world rang with laughter,
Lasting till forever after,
While Cloony stood in the circus tent,
With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent.
And he said,'THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT -
I'M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT.'
And while the world laughed outside.
Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Future

"Let's make him a sailor," said Father,
"And he will adventure the sea."
"A soldier," said Mother, "is rather
What I would prefer him to be."
"A lawyer," said Father, "would please me,
For then he could draw up my will."
"A doctor," said Mother, "would ease me;
Maybe he could give me a pill."

Said Father: "Lt's make him a curate,
A Bishop in gaiters to be."
Said Mother: "I couldn't endure it
To have Willie preaching to me."
Said Father: ""Let him be a poet;
So often he's gathering wool."
Said Mother with temper: "Oh stow it!
You know it, a poet's a fool."

Said Farther: "Your son is a duffer,
A stupid and mischievous elf."
Said Mother, who's rather a huffer:
"That's right - he takes after yourself."
Controlling parental emotion
They turned to me, seeking a cue,
And sudden conceived the bright notion
To ask what I wanted to do.

Said I: "my ambition is modest:
A clown in a circus I'd be,
And turn somersaults in the sawdust
With audience laughing at me."
. . . Poor parents! they're dead and decaying,
But I am a clown as you see;
And though in no circus I'm playing,
How people are laughing at me!

poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Matter Of Opinion 2012

I think I have the right to state.
The present poet laureate
Has chosen to ignore the rules
that govern poetry. The tools
which every poet ought to know
To ensure their words will smoothly flow
When they are performed publically.
The must be metered carefully.
In my opinion she writes prose
Though I am certain that she knows.
That prose cannot be poetry
But doesn’t care apparently.
Although she writes poetically.
To me its prose not poetry.

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Removing The Grease Paint

Removing the grease paint,
From the face of any clown...
And a circus is not what first comes to mind.
Although,
Clowns determined to start their own circus...
Will find a way to do it,
With a more acceptable appearance.
And one dressed in a tailored suit,
Can achieve remarkable success.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Circus Of Death

This is a song called the circus of death.
It tells the true story of a circus we met.
The first two verses concern the actual arrival at heathrow airport of commissioner steve mcgarrett.
The third emotionally describes a map showing the range of the circus.
The fourth and fifth were extracted from an article in the guardian of march the 19th, 1962.
The last is a short wave radio message from the last man on earth.
Nine o'clock flight from hawaii
The trident is just touching down
We're waiting here on the tarmac
Mcgarrett is wearing a frown
He's here to help with a problem
A blood-spattered curse on our land
Please cast your eye over this map, sir
This business is quite out of hand
The circus of death is approaching
Its pathway is painted in red
Before it the frightened and helpless
Behind it a trail of the dead
The narcotic that forges their union
Is a substance known only to one
To the clown it is known as dominion
It's a secret that he'll give to none
The drug which gives the clown power
Means the circus can never be stopped
And his dream can go on unhindered
'til the last human being has dropped
Spare me and my family
I've done you no wrong
Go away, please let us be
I've known you for too long

song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To me, clowns aren't funny. In fact, they're kinda scary. I've wondered where this started, and I think it goes back to the time I went to the circus and a clown killed my dad.

Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poster

By david jones and steve pitts
The circus is coming to town. it said on the poster.
Get your tickets now, before its too late.
A dancing bear and a circus clown its so funny.
I cant wait to see everything there.
I feel like Im already there.
I must see her fly through the air.
Horse running round and round in a circle.
I cant wait to see everything there.
I wonder if its just like they say on the poster.
If it is I know I will be there.
I feel like Im already there.
I must see her fly through the air.
I feel like Im already there.
I must see her fly through the air.
[repeat and fade]

song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poet Of Our

He doesn't like non rhyming poetry ignore what he has to say
About your fashionable writing you are the poet of the day
Your thoughts on paper are as deep as the ocean you are a wise one indeed
You are an emerging writer as a poet you will succeed
Everyone has their opinions no two exactly the same
He doesn't like modern poetry but he has not sullied your name
It only means you are a good writer when others your works criticize
You are a poet of the future you've won a literary prize
At poetry nights you read your verses and always for you there's an encore
You feel so proud and so happy when the audience they beg you for more
People love you for your poetry see you as a poetic great
But not everyone as you know your success will celebrate
He is a man of the fifties he only likes poems that rhyme
So many do love your poetry you are a poet of our time.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet Of Our Time

He doesn't like non rhyming poetry ignore what he has to say
About your fashionable writing you are the poet of the day
Your thoughts on paper are as deep as the ocean you are a wise one indeed
You are an emerging writer as a poet you will succeed
Everyone has their opinions no two exactly the same
He doesn't like modern poetry but he has not sullied your name
It only means you are a good writer when others your works criticize
You are a poet of the future you've won a literary prize
At poetry nights you read your verses and always for you there's an encore
You feel so proud and so happy when the audience they beg you for more
People love you for your poetry see you as a poetic great
But not everyone as you know your success will celebrate
He is a man of the fifties he only likes poems that rhyme
So many do love your poetry you are a poet of our time.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Clown

Orbison/mcgill
I was a clown when I thought I had found
A love for me and only me but she laughed at the clown
Turned him down turned him down
I never frown ah, ah, ah, Im the clown
For it breaks my heart I play the part of a clown
Runnin round trouble bound Im the clown
I wander all around wondering if you ever cared
I go from place to place, I look from face to face
Hoping that you will be there
All over town the word is out its all around
That I love her still guess I always will Im the clown
Runnin round trouble bound Im the clown

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clown

I was a clown when I thought I had found
a love for me and only me but she laughed at the clown
turned him down turned him down
I never frown ah, ah, ah, I'm the clown
for it breaks my heart I play the part of a clown
runnin round trouble bound I'm the clown
I wander all around wondering if you ever cared
I go from place to place, I look from face to face
hoping that you will be there
All over town the word is out It's all around
that I love her still guess I always will I'm the clown
runnin round trouble bound I'm the clown

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Circus Leaving Town

(Written by Phillip Claypool)
Before you draw the final curtain
Before the big top crashes down
Before you pack away my trunk case
I'd like to take a final bow.
One last chance to hear the laughter
And see your face there in the crowd
One last moment in the spotlight
One last chance to be your clown.
I guess you're tired of walking tightropes
Of setting up and tearing down
You want a place to call forever
And rest your feet on solid ground.
Somewhere you've lost that sense of wonder
But that's still the place I'm bound
I'm a storm in search of thunder
I'm just a circus leaving town.
Once we could fill the room with laughter
And fill each other's hearts with joy
Through each trial and disaster
Still we cling to our choice.
To take a path so unforgiving
A road that waits for no one
You know we chose to keep on living
Lord, tell me where did we go wrong.
I guess you're tired of walking tightropes
Of setting up and tearing down
You want a place to call forever
And rest your feet on solid ground.
Don't try to break this spell I'm under
And stop these wheels from spinning around
I'm a storm in search of thunder
Yes, I'm just a circus leaving town.
Some day you'll wake up and wonder
And your heart will start to pound
And you'll long for the thunder
And the kiss is of a clown...

song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you're a circus clown, and you have a dog that you use in your act, I don't think it's a good idea to also dress the dog up like a clown, because people see that and they think, 'Forgive me, but that's just too much.'

Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clown In Waiting

Everyone has a funny story
that has happen to them.
I have quite a few
which makes me a clown in waiting.

At the time they were not funny,
however looking back now
the embarrassment has gone
and years have passed.

You think why did I do that?
It was probably immaturity
or being over zealous
that those silly mistakes were made.

Now as you sit down with friends
and talk about years gone by.
You recall these funny stories,
giving everyone a damn good laugh.

You smile to yourself,
hoping you don’t make mistakes like that again.
You know you will
as you are a clown in waiting.

23 January 2009

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Circus

Hey, there! Hoop-la! the circus is in town!
Have you seen the elephant? Have you seen the clown?
Have you seen the dappled horse gallop round the ring?
Have you seen the acrobats on the dizzy swing?
Have you seen the tumbling men tumble up and down?
Hoop-la! Hoop-la! the circus is in town!

Hey, there! Hoop-la! Here's the circus troupe!
Here's the educated, dog jumping through the hoop.
See the lady Blondin with the parasol and fan,
The lad upon the ladder and the india-rubber man.
See the joyful juggler and the boy who loops the loop.
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Here's the circus troupe!

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Clown’s Sorrow

Sorrow wrapping his face,
Sat a man in a park.
An old man got to him
And made a chat with him.
He suggested to him,
‘Go to the circus yonder
And watch the clown’s action.
You can forget your sorrow
And have a heart-full laugh’
‘I am the very clown’
Said the man in sorrow.
The one who makes others
Laugh can very well wear sorrow.

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Clown Left

Why are you attempting,
To destroy my peace of mind?
I'd spend more time looking behind me,
If I were you!

Not one face says they are pleased,
With your ignorance!
Since in this neighborhood...
We are mending fences!

Not trying to tear them down.

You must be the last clown left,
From that circus?

You better 'check' yourself.
Before you find the ground...
A place found,
Willing to quietly accept your foolishness.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry

Only place where I feel at home is poetry
Everywhere else I am always lost
Nothing seems proper, when verses of English poems are not present
All that I feel like doing is write and write
Sometimes, I do admit that I do get lost
However, I really belong only with poetry
Still, I always feel that nobody ever does understand my feelings
A blank space is always present within my heart
As sometimes I start to feel that things which I express are not good enough
I do not really know why?
This is just how I feel sometimes
Since, often the mode of being depressed comes to my life
Then, I become a depressed poet who has only past memories
Nothing else I have as remaining to love or care
However, still I keep on penning things, only to still remain alive
Otherwise, I would be dead without words
Only place where I belong is poetry and here I feel being at home.

poem by Rohit Sapra
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