He was the very best friend I had and I wanted to do justice to the poem in his name...
as his eyes adjust to the mystery of the darkness beyond
his animated monologue flows with fervent idioms sweet
as a vintage wine its bouquet smooth and bold and fraught
with the appreciation of an applauding audience
as his pacing intensifies so do the decibels of infectious
laughter and for a moment in the solitude of his ebullient
soul this escape from his own reality is painless and his
stage is now his only world
in the theater of life the melancholy in the verses of his
poetry and the songs of his heart tell their own profound
story of a man embedded in the fabric of those who
accentuated his quest to proliferate the virtue that is love
as his persona evolved through the episodes of being many
knew him but knew him not
and when the social furor of onerous times beckoned
this panacea of the distressed responded with a luminous
heart the consummate giver that he was
and when he rode the night the winds told him their stories
the stars guided him with their twinkle and the moon blessed
him with love he was not alone
the bonds of friendship rode with him as he exposed his soul
unclothed his conscience and returned counsel to his friend
as I remember him I feel his presence and tears fill somber
eyes and memories abound of the age of impulsive energy
where his unbridled capacity for humor was honed resulting
in the hilarious skillful and insightful stand-up routines
that flowed so effortlessly
and in the animation of the sprit I see his face and though
not a word is uttered and no good byes are said the silence
speaks and in the aftermath of a solitary teardrop kissing
a daunted cheek a smile is born
how I wish we could ride the night one more time again
but the lights have gone dim and the audience has applauded
for the final time and he has left his stage on his way to
a command performance in the sky
this Joker this lover of life now gone with many secrets of
the night was my friend
Earl S. Jackson
April 2007
Copyright © 2007 Earl S. Jackson, all rights reserved.
Poetry by Earl Jackson
Read 633 times
Written on 2007-06-06 at 05:02
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The Joker
in the glare of a stalking spotlight impulsively he movesas his eyes adjust to the mystery of the darkness beyond
his animated monologue flows with fervent idioms sweet
as a vintage wine its bouquet smooth and bold and fraught
with the appreciation of an applauding audience
as his pacing intensifies so do the decibels of infectious
laughter and for a moment in the solitude of his ebullient
soul this escape from his own reality is painless and his
stage is now his only world
in the theater of life the melancholy in the verses of his
poetry and the songs of his heart tell their own profound
story of a man embedded in the fabric of those who
accentuated his quest to proliferate the virtue that is love
as his persona evolved through the episodes of being many
knew him but knew him not
and when the social furor of onerous times beckoned
this panacea of the distressed responded with a luminous
heart the consummate giver that he was
and when he rode the night the winds told him their stories
the stars guided him with their twinkle and the moon blessed
him with love he was not alone
the bonds of friendship rode with him as he exposed his soul
unclothed his conscience and returned counsel to his friend
as I remember him I feel his presence and tears fill somber
eyes and memories abound of the age of impulsive energy
where his unbridled capacity for humor was honed resulting
in the hilarious skillful and insightful stand-up routines
that flowed so effortlessly
and in the animation of the sprit I see his face and though
not a word is uttered and no good byes are said the silence
speaks and in the aftermath of a solitary teardrop kissing
a daunted cheek a smile is born
how I wish we could ride the night one more time again
but the lights have gone dim and the audience has applauded
for the final time and he has left his stage on his way to
a command performance in the sky
this Joker this lover of life now gone with many secrets of
the night was my friend
Earl S. Jackson
April 2007
Copyright © 2007 Earl S. Jackson, all rights reserved.
Poetry by Earl Jackson
Read 633 times
Written on 2007-06-06 at 05:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
