This poem was written in response to this video clip which I found very moving -
SEND IN THE CLOWNS... Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBark Poet
A world gone mad - and devastation everywhere around
the centre ring is empty - none to see.
The carnival is over and the crowds are all long gone
and none left to recall festivity.
The bright lights are all shattered, now a tangled mass of wires
and shadows seem to shift and turn at whim.
He wanders, gun in hand, into the empty centre ring
and wonders just what has happened to him.
Send in the clowns, send in the clowns
they’ll make you laugh – might save a life.
They show no fear, make smiles from frowns.
Send in the clowns! Send in the clowns!
From high above a watcher watches, through a rifle sight
the man who once more graces centre stage.
He is a marksman in a war in which he had to play -
inside his heart is consumed with a rage.
He hears the music playing and he smells the greasepaint there,
he hears applause and cheers and yet no sound
at all is heard from where he is - it is all in his mind
and memories flood back of the fairground.
Send in the clowns, send in the clowns
they’ll make you laugh – might save a life.
They show no fear, make smiles from frowns.
Send in the clowns! Send in the clowns!
The watcher descends slowly, quietly - stands and gives applause
to the juggler all alone in centre ring.
Startled - the juggler cowers, fearing his death is at hand
yet he begs for mercy - hope a transient thing.
The watcher sits and from his uniform pocket appears
a red rubber nose - the kind that clowns still wear;
he placed the nose upon his face and struck a comic pose,
a big grin and he ruffled up his hair.
Send in the clowns, send in the clowns
they’ll make you laugh – might save a life.
They show no fear, make smiles from frowns.
Send in the clowns! Send in the clowns!
Then as quickly as it started the show ended - war returned
and the watcher turned and left the centre stage
as the magic of the moment that materialized was gone
when two men returned to a world mad with rage.
For a moment their humanity had surfaced from the mire,
for a moment each had recognized the worth
of a moment of hilarity in a world turned to dross
and two clowns enjoyed an interlude of mirth.
