The Jester’s Jester

 

Why are we not all born with a jester attached?

To be with us until we die. To keep us awake.

To remind us of the truth.

To fill mortality with laughter and the jingle of bells?

 

If the jester listens to her jester as the brain listens to the heart

She may eventually find peace amongst the flow and thrust

of our twisted ribbons.

Are we finally saved then, can I relax now

or did i get it wrong again?

 

It was only yesterday was it not

that the ferryman winked at me?

And although the days are losing definition

I’m certain it was the same day

you made a necklace out of acorns

and hung it around my neck, laughing.

 

We are blessed and sacrificed at the same moment.

The breast to the memory stone.

Not a circle but a spiral and all is suddenly Carnival,

bright and loud and gilded,

showing the folds and creases of pockets and wallets and bags

as we leave them at the door.

And unburdened

we are now

free to dance.

 

The Jester’s Jester. 18×14 in. 46×36 cm. Acrylic on panel.

Painting and poem by clinock.

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Iconicalities. natura morta.

photo and haiku by clinock. photo from Vernatza, Italy.

Click on photo for superior viewing experience.

Uncovered Treasure 6

for those we loved

for those passing through

for those left behind

I write these words of silence

powerless

as they crumble into dust

and vanish on the winds of night

 

I have no record of the original photographer of this image. If anyone out there recognizes the photograph please let me know and I will immediately add due credit to the artist. Please see previous posts in this series for the background story.

poem by clinock.