Laughter, unfading

‘If by chance some day you’re not feeling well and you should remember some silly thing I’ve said or done and it brings back a smile to your face or a chuckle to your heart, then my comedy3purpose as your clown has been fulfilled.’
– Red Skelton

I never wanted to be known
as class clown
being the buffoon never my style
even in younger days I
preferred wit to slapstick
drollery and pathos
over crudeness and burlesque

Looking back I saw
missed opportunity in my humor
camouflaging as it did my
other attributes

my reputation cemented
as the fun, funny guy who could
always be counted on for
the big laugh
unexpected punchline

As time passed all I wantedCLOWN3
was the respect
of my peers
those who liked me, others
who I admired
for themselves

Decades have passed
as have classmates
frequently I have  been called upon
to provide a moment –
my amusing or hilarious take
on something past
story, funny toast, anecdote,
or memory
in times we gather
happy times or sorrowful
personally, or online

I am the one
to dilute the sadnesscomedy4
with quirky eulogist’s take on
someone’s life, shared times

Acceptance of my ‘character’
character was a
long time coming
though eventually, grudgingly
I acquiesced to long-ago-forged
rapier-wit persona
tempered as it was by time in
the minds of others

But a funny thing happened
on my way to
being jester remembered
a comment, once – from
an old friend, yet another
from someone else

more have followed suit

comments of gratitudeCLOWN1
or being there
to lift spirits on down days
remove the edge
from darker moments
just being me

These certainties I know now
relied upon by others
comfort, in some way
relief, reassurance to people
whose respect I long
sought, long ago discounted

Death, taxes, a quip from me
one out of three aint bad

I’ll take that to my grave
even though I have always believed
you can’t take it with you
because I cannot in good consciencecomedy2
leave such an important gig
to someone else

As the show must always…
go on, now.

– Mark Lucker 
© 2019
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

#laughter #comedyandtragedy
#NaPoWriMoprompt1  #NaPoWriMoApril2019

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Posted in Growing up me, Introspection, Then and Now, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Echelons

IMG_20190309_191648772Feet on the bottom of a
swimming pool
at times still fill me with
strange sensation
retaining an unknown,
odd fear – wet concrete
hard, dispassionate

I was eight the first time I
hit chlorinated water
our family trumpeting
middle-class arrival
vacation traveling
staying at a motel

With a pool.

Unimpressed,
pool1disappointed I was
in the outcome of
newly bourgeois journey
having previously spent
my summer days splashing
in Horseshoe Lake

squishing sandy clay
through
suntanned toes
trying in vain to step on
minnows
flossing feet on
slimy weeds
catching oblivious
frogs

The pool didn’t ooze
could only bruise

My middle class
awakening was one
of haughty pretentiousness
looking down as I was at
my fellow travelers
also my age
though obviously lacking
my significantIMG_20190309_191844651
expertise in
how things should be

I sadly realized
only much later that
perhaps they lacked my
insight and
experience but also

very hopefully

my posing, self-righteous
pity
at their sorry
lots in life

– Mark Lucker

© 2019
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Posted in Contemporary Life, Growing up me, Uncategorized

Three Haikus for the 2nd

punxsutawneyphilCozy Den of Iniquity

Wither thou goest
oh, hibernating rodent!
Preach thine prediction!

> > > > > > > > > >

Misdirected

Celebratory
nod today to the wiener;
happy ground-hog day.

> > > > > > > > > >

Boondoggle

Slovenly groundhogs
stay in bed, Tweet conjecture;
masses, pacified.

Mark Lucker

© 2019
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Posted in Haikus, Holidays | Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

obsequies

Death came againsad-e1546002905737.png

conversational notification
sociability media
cultural medium du jour

mundanely profound in
heralding a passing

old acquaintance
high school classmate
we were not close,
then

now?comment

feeling compelled to not be
standoffish, participate in
communal grief

‘click’

Our friendship was not
at a depth
then-or-now
lending itself to
condolence commentary

then,

our lives were intertwined
in clumps around
hallway lockers
five-minutes at a time

now

we congregate in the
church halls of Facebook
in passing, needing to get
to the next

‘click’

Our grief
it’s commemoration
has become
personally anonymous
round, yellow,
not-happy facesyou and
adorned with solitary tear

GIFs of
flaming Viking ships,
other visual totems of
various, dubious ilk

friend!

we feast you on the pyre
of our laptop screens
saying farewell

‘click.’

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2018
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Posted in Contemporary Life, Then and Now, Uncategorized

Midway? All the way. (Love is… #39)

Love is like a day at the fair

flashing neon, loud music, exotic
sights, smells, sounds, enticements,
leering inducements of all sorts

adrenaline-pumping sensory overload

You know you shouldn’t overindulge
but you do and then you get sick
but what a ride, oh what a ride!

Faster! Faster! Faster!
Up! Down! All around! Spinning!
Dropping! Whirling! Faster! Faster!
Spinning around, wanting desperately
to get off but can’t until the ride stops

But by then it is way too late.

You are walking down the midway
woozy, but needing to eat
everything and nothing looks appetizing
you grab some cotton candy

Love is cotton candy in summer heat
sweet, sticky, satisfying – always a mess.

No matter how hard you try to keep your
fingers clean, it is always a mess
a great, big, sticky, gooey,
I’m-here-now-wouldn’t-miss-it
for-anything-ever-what-a-day mess.

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2018
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Posted in Love and Romance, Relationships, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

corresponding

road.jpgI am catching my second wind
my longing
for home
going back
has overtaken my wanderlust
not that my desire to move
to see, experience
so much more
than I already have
has waned, run out of gas
in the homestretch but

the urge to return has simply
built up more momentum
there is stamina of soul needed
to run this race

and now with home
not any sort of finish line
on the horizon
I realize I can now have the
best of both worlds

meandering, exploring
old haunts, mock-hallowed grounds
can be revisited with
fresh insight, new adventures to be
old places, new faces
new places with familiar faces
finding fresh joy in the
everyday dull

with the perspective now to
revel in the mundane
everything old will be new, again
everything new will remind me

There is refreshment
renewal and appreciation
the more youthful, unaware me
could never comprehend

if something that was, is no more
if the new has no appeal
I can simply move on
eschew regret
find fresh excitement
in the new thing

time changes everything
change is timeless

I can go home now
while acknowledging the freedom
of not desiring to leave
even when you can without pause
such is the acquired wisdom
of an itinerant heart

Yin/Yang of an intrepid
soul
homeward bounding

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2018
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Posted in Uncategorized

Traveling

On family trips when
I was eight, nine
plastic, primary-color
cowboys, Indians,
soldiers, animals
fought and romped
in a synthetic, nappy,
dark-blue rear-window
battlefield meadow

Other times, it was a
fuzzy ledge on which to
lean, and watch the road
fading, while my mother
half-jokingly admonished
me to turn around, see
where I was going, not
where I had been

But I was a wistful nine.

Then,
sometimes now

 

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2018
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Posted in Growing up me, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Frogs

  – Mark L. Lucker
© 2017
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Posted in frogs, Growing up me, Moments, Playing with frogs, The Lake | Tagged , ,

Put on your shoes

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step”

      Laozi

Our journey has finally begun road1.jpg
there have been
fits, starts, delays
in getting here; now
finally underway, I am ill at ease

The irony, not lost on me

An inveterate wanderer, –
‘Mr. Spontaneity’ to friends, family
I do not like not having an even
rudimentary itinerary
I find myself in the driver’s seat,
riding unwilling shotgun

Where this road takes us, unclear.
I know where we are going  –
in abstract theory
our route is well-traveled,
mapped out and useless
“This way” our only directional cue

Traveling companions
our conversations more and
more disjointed, repetitive
yet replete with always new insights
wisdom, perspectives – shared,
dispersed like random gumballs

I wanted the yellow, got the red
still a gumball.
Something innocuous to chew onroad3

People sometimes remember
in order to forget;
not by choice, yours a different tack
forgetting to not remember
remembering the obscurity of what was
oblivious at time to what is

except when you aren’t.

Your navigational skills
no longer reliable
I steer conversation to a time of
your place and choosing
where with alarming alacrity
you can recall, recite
the mundane and profound
as I work to remember
to try and not forget, while keeping
my eyes on the road ahead,

utilizing little more than stray
magazine articles and brochures,
well-meaning advice,and gut instinct
all the while striving to keep us moving
forward, using the rear-view mirror

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2018
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Posted in Introspection, Life, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , ,

1958

Eight-by-ten, glossy

Women’s gowns a snowy hue
men’s jackets polar-colored
pants black, everything else
radiant shades of grays

drearily brilliant tones
off-black, dark-white
vibrant portrait in celluloid

Twelve adults, a young boy
bouffants and buzz cuts, ogling
camera, mischievously

dead serious, mindfully aware
playful magnitude of the day

fighting off hangovers
practicing feigned solemnity
due charmed couple at center

She: youthful, stunning purity
dress, pearls, teeth, aura
He: counterfeit waiter miscast
starring male in tuxedo

a split second before
being frozen in time and
now tarnished frame
someone must’ve blurted
“Smile!”

If a thousand words
barely equal a single, old
Kodak portrait, the
bold, vivid, monochromatic
color does provide, with
absolute certainty

The camera never lies

  – Mark L. Lucker
© 2016
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Posted in Family, Uncategorized, Young love | Tagged , , , , ,