I have forever harboured an odd fascination for clowns. Big Top Clown pays high-spirited homage, while celebrating the art of self-effacing.

Listen to Big Top Clown by Richard Charles Stevens

Listen to Millionaire Instrumental by Mark Ronson

i’m a big top clown
with a quick stop frown
and thick mop of rosy red hair
zip lock smile
and a flip flop flower
on a cliff top looking down
across the depths of despair

i’m a big top clown
with a quick stop frown
and thick mop of rosy red hair
taking a bow
in the here and the now
it’s debatable how i’m all there

it’s a sheer drop to the bottom
farther still to souvenir shop
not a pin to hear drop within ear shot
sheep flock in queer gridlock
while their ears pop at the flintlock
robbed of clear shot by the thick fog
taking pot shots at a springbok
at odds with insincere lot
in a state of indistinct shock
with their wrists cocked
as they stop the clocks
to dock them of their tick tock
hoping that the sweatshop
is less choking in a vest top
known for head drops
owed to shell shock
groping red rocks at the river
quoting deadlock as the best shot
hoping head rot reconsiders
it’s a sheer drop to the bottom
but a tip top trot within us

big top clown
with a clutch of balloons
every colour, shade and hue
under gaze of sun and moon
numbered days and nights resumed
face paint white
and eyes bright blue
prized at very height of much ado
with a tricycle
plus one for two
and a pair of size twenty one shoes

it’s a ruse that we are better to presume
than get together and attune
making useless then endeavours as we sever tethers
fore they care to bloom
trending to whichever point of view
we choose to groom
with weathered knees and barely air to breathe
let alone elbow room
please squirt my flower
you don’t need to ask
it’ll give you a laugh if you do
don’t be put off by my painted-on mask
or the excessive size of my shoes
the frown on your face i must ask you displace
upside down is some way more appealing
i’ll fashion a dog from this clutch of balloons
and then rest them right here on the ceiling
this cycle’s too tiny but ride it i shall
and will do so with less than a fuss
for that is my role and i wear it with pride
know just what to do when needs must
behind the mascara and face painted white
my tears you shall never discern
for i cry them in silence away from plain sight
while beneath they continue to burn
to smile through one’s pains is no walk in the park
it just seems like the right thing to do
besides not my place to be falling apart
until my performance is through

on a cliff top looking out
with frown flipped upside down
we all can be the big top clown
we all can weep renew
should we keep tears as souvenirs
then they may clear the rear view
take us to a safe place
and reanimate the sinew
make entire lives passion plays
in faith to be continued
and all it takes is one pair of size twenty one shoes
to do the upside down of snooze and lose

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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