REFLECTIONS IN A LATE NIGHT BAR: “MIRTH”… Too often, this mirthless world upsets me, so I guess, I am, growing old. Subtle humour eludes the masses, so very few. are clever jokes now told. The bar crowd ‘takes in’ the floorshow…I feel remote, a virtual recluse, Little, stirs the imagination, as a comic mouths words, somewhat obtuse… Who makes the comedian laugh? A random query now sweeps to mind, a simple question, not without merit, seeking an answer so hard to find. A false face of Levity more a grimace, becomes a comic’s popular mask, few journey unscathed and hiding depression, seems but one futile task. A thankless profession…How boring is a joke, one spun so often before? Does the listener seem, just one more critic, with Levity, seen as a chore? I note the crowd’s indifference, watch the comic, uttering practiced lines… ponder, upon the future, for laughing men this mirthless world confines. The world, I decide, runs on agenda…and, every man Jack, has his own… my eyes, now seek confirmation, I review intent and mannerisms shown. Drawn, once again to the comic, I analyze an act many choose to ignore. I despair at what could become his agenda…one selected so often before… ©. Copyright: Bernard de Silva…Wednesday, October 15, 2014. Death of a Comedian. I am the face of Merriment, my smile, a frozen mask, jokes are courtesy of the writer…by myself expressed. Laughter, is no easy thing, when presented, as a task Folks see but mirth personified, not a soul depressed. Mirth’s patent face carries on, laughing, until the end, bonding with ilk’s ranks who could not stand the pain. Therein lies a laugh, of the darkest humour, my friend, comedians often take their own lives and so it is, again… ©. Copyright: Bernard de Silva…
Posted on: Wed, 15 Oct 2014 08:29:11 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015