Um poema oferecido a todos nós, pela Laura Fernandez.
I spent my dreamtime on Clown Island,
Hidden by tropical greenery and
Surrounded by a sea of ducks.
A gatekeeper there was,
Red of color and Bastard by birth.
Screaming he led us, cursing into the land of the big roots.
I met Einstein there and Chaplin and
Grock and Skelton and Lewis.
They were parsing Humor theories – known to Hippocrates.
Me – raised by Father was greeted by the Legend Mother
And I grew whole, shouting out to my sisters and brothers,
Who can do no wrong.
I hugged my cousins, even the annoying ones, who don’t sense when enough is enough.
No matter. They are Family.
Family is Family
Drinking of the elixir of the Island, the visions came.
Clown, Kloun, Payaso, Kloven
They paraded on by.
Clowns under umbrellas, flying like Mary Poppins.
Clowns slapping, peering into eyes and dancing Joy.
Clowns in creations by Coco Chanel, Minnie Mouse, Doris Day and Calvin Clown.
Clowns closing ears to trumpets and opening hearts to Brussels.
Clowns telling stories that voices never dared.
Clowns sticking out their own necks to save their own lives.
Clowns charting out their family trees.
Clowns keeping out of the line of fire.
Clowns who write their stories on the Sun and tell them to the Moon.
Clowns who grow old and young again and old again, before you can say
“Short and Stupid”.
Clowns who check their dictionary, just to be clear.
Under the Full Moon, on Clown Island
I laugh and cry.
Clown Island is home
Laura Fernandez 23.03.2016