Greetings on this fine Sunday to you all. I am Soul Walker… luckily this isn’t nearly as terrible (usually) as Paul Walker… whom I am trying (and failing) to not hate. Sometimes people (on the internet) just call me Soul (which oddly enough doesn’t bother me). I actually write a poetry blog (which is here, because someone will have an aneurism if I don’t link to it) so maybe it even makes sense that I am here today just for you (I think we all wish that english still had a you plural… sigh… and is it just me, or is that guy’s face hilarious.?)
“But wait Soul– why does you being the author of a poetry blog make some sort of sense? What does that have to do with ‘A Clown On Fire?’” Thank you short girl with the cute glasses in the back. That is a good question. The reason it is relevant (and therefore makes some sort of sense) is because today (as it is Sunday) we are going to be commenting only in Haiku, Limerick, or acrostic. I am the guest moderator… and a poet… moderating a blog post with comments solely in the form of poetry– get it? Of course you do. Oh, and are those glasses prescription?
I should mention I don’t really do pictures. I mean, I like them and all (especially the funny ones)… but it’s not really my thing. Also, just so you know, I am a cranky moody dinosaur of an old man… in a not so old (unfortunately) man’s body. I should probably tell you that I am religious as well. This way, when you take the Lord’s name in vain and I get all pissy… you can just put two and two together (because I want your life to be easier).
And I have a very serious request: could you please not comment while wearing pants. I find it distracting. Also (this is an awful lot of also’s), comments should be in the form (wait, didn’t we already go over this?) of haiku, acrostic, or limerick… and trust me, it is much MUCH easier to write limericks without your pants on.
There once was a Sunday to-do
And everyone thought they’d come through
But words have a way
Of having their say
And pants just won’t help you get through.
Remember to play nice… and in verse…
Such as in a haiku…
Tolerance is not
so present in you at all
When you both agree.
Or in an acrostic…
C hlorine in your glass
L ingers in your gut
O nly if you blink
W ill you feel it right
N owhere is a manual
L aid out for your heart
Y ou will have to find out there.
P oorly lit the alley wet
R iddled with the haunts of ghosts
E ver floating in a void
S inking as you walk on by
S uch is how it plays for us
E very single day
D ying from the Chlorine kept inside that special glass.
(Please note that the phrase “Clownly Pressed” was coined by Rutabaga the Mercenary Researcher)
Post Script- Le Clown is magnificent.