Some years back, actually in 1979, I wrote a poem that came as self-examination. I suppose in painting we would say it is modern art. The paint is there and you are allowed to choose what the painting says to you. When I wrote this poem it was showing my vulnerable side….exposing it was a work in progress.

Most of our lives we continue on with a comfortable attitude about liking everyone and everyone liking us. Down the road a ways we find this is not true. No matter how kind, polite, helpful and caring we may be…..there will be people who do not like us.

I thought of the many television shows I watched of Red Skelton with his weekly clown character somewhere in the show. He was treated as a buffoon though he was sweet and kind. How many of us are perceived differently than we feel inside? Our intentions are quite often misunderstood. The skit usually closed with him wearing an extremely sad face sniffing a daisy.

Quite often the person who is giving and helpful is taken advantage of. Then anger follows when the giving stops. Not everyone we give to is accountable. There are two people inside of us. The one who is learning and the one who is teaching. To know one’s self is a life-long journey.

So here is the clown poem and you can see what it says to you. Words thrown on a canvas as paint.

THE CLOWN

All clowns are sad. I know. I am a clown.
We paint a smile to hide behind
Lest you see what is captive there and
Laugh the more.

Clowns prefer to have you laugh
At what you think you see rather than
To really see and scorn.

Until the next time, I am,
Essentially Esther