Circle, Mirror and Clown

I am the Clown.

Excerpt from The Circle, the Mirror and the Clown. (Ari Fuller, 2004, p.14)

"I am the clown. I am the fool. 

I am the monkey with the one key that unlocks me, unlocks none. The clock has sung its final hour, primal power in my antics never frantic, always chanting with ranting voice and raving choices about the forces of my source. 

The source is me and only one, one is the sun, and the sun is one that gives me life and colours my clothes in brightness vivid and rainbows livid. I am the pole-vaulting, somersaulting, summer shouting buffoon of loony tricks and capers mixed with clever flicks of juggling muddles and riddles for children. My laughter is golden and my face is a farce, a colourful mask that hides the void devoid of light, my knowledge nothing, my smile bright. I am only the future, my past is dead. I live for the smiles of the people, for all I know is I am they. My words don’t mean a thing, I throw them around, I make them a ring that sings lullabies, and grows legs and feet, and then runs headlong into the pale sunrise. 

I know my words are meaningless, and so I am never grinning less for I put the sky in a bucket of sunlight and swirled it around and came up with moonlight. I can rhyme if you like, if you like a rhyme, and if I rhyme so sublime will you throw me a dime so I can throw it away and show you the day that is worth more that money, a joke forever funny. For funny is forever, and forever is my never of this funny clever jester who just messed your funny gesture with his crazy never guessed. A guest I am behind this face with a big red nose as I trip over my toes and laugh another daft half-smart cart of silly-billy answers to your questions asked of chances of your future luck for dances. Dance now and pluck your luck from chances you silly-billy prancer, for questions in their answer are implicit more than certain, and I laugh and mock your foolish searches, your futile perches on invisible branches in the clouds of enchanters. 

I laugh and mock you fool, you fool, go back to school and unlearn rules, and then perhaps will the fool then rule from his lonely stool, his only tool his foolish rule of me as you, more fit to rule than rules for fools who cannot see invisible tools. 

I laugh at you for you are me, mere words to join on this laughing spree. If one word is the same as me, then all words are one word not three, not any difference in deliverance, for I say me whenever three is one and two is none, hear how near is my heart, the sun. The sum of me is all, right through the future wall so solid, impenetrable me till now so horrid and misunderstood..."

Completed Golden Forest X