Poetry Series: week 2

(Ah, yes; as you can all see I've made GREAT progress on the deciding-on-a-real-title-for-this-series front....)

Week 2! Here we go!

Cloak of Laughter
Abigail Cresson

I wear a cloak of laughter
Lest anyone should see
My dress of sorrow underneath
And stop to pity me.

I wear a cloak of laughter
Lest anyone should guess
That what is hid beneath it
Is less then happiness...

But, ah, what does it matter
To you who are so wise?
My cloak falls tattered at my feet
Before your tender eyes.

For cloaks to cover sorrow
Are meant for stranger-folk
One cannot hide away from friends
Beneath a laughing cloak.

Oh, futile cloak of laughter
How frail you are, and thin!
Love looks through you so easily
And sees the grief within.



I have fallen in love with this poem :) I discovered it in some ancient poetry anthology that I got from the library ages ago and I've loved it ever since!

I thought this poem was particularly fitting, at least for me, this week...I have a very, very, very dear friend who happens to be going through a rough time lately and dealing with a lot. She keeps trying to convince me that she's OK and that I don't need to worry about her, but I know that's not quite true. So, my dear, if you happen to be reading this right now, please just know that I love you and I'm here for you and you can let go of your "cloak" anytime, now.
And if you guys could say a prayer for her, that would be muchly appreciated. God will know who you mean. :)

Humor and lack thereof

I'm not a funny person.

This depresses me.

I came to this startling realization today while reading an amusing blog. On Edge’s blog she has a link to Gretchen, and I clicked on it out of curiosity and found some incredibly fantastic posts. They just seem to exude humorous vibes -- there’s an underlying tongue-in-cheekness to it all that I love. And envy, I must confess.

I have never been a funny person, sadly. I’ve tried for years now, but humor just eludes me. I’ve finally reached a point where I’ve accepted the fact that I’m hopeless. Humorless. Unfunny. Boring. Humor must be something you’re born with -- you either have it, or you don’t. I, sadly, do not. I must have missed the humor gene. I can’t make great wisecracks. I am terrible when it comes to witty comebacks, because I just can’t think fast enough. Even sarcasm, when coming from me, tends to be misconstrued, misunderstood or simply stupid. And I’ve never had that great slapstick-comedy clownishness that just makes people laugh.

Which isn’t to say that people don’t laugh at me. They do. Quite loudly and quite often. But I think that’s more because I’m STRANGE, rather then because I’m FUNNY. There’s a major difference. I happen to be a very quirky person and this, obviously, causes some smiles, giggles and guffaws. Take the whole mismatched sock thing, for instance…..

But anyway, this severe lack of funniness has more far-reaching effects then just causing me to cross off “stand-up comedian” from my list of potential careers.

It affects my writing, too. Think about it. I can’t create funny, witty, sarcastic, amusing characters -- or, even more importantly, dialogue -- because I myself can’t up with that. How do you write in a character’s sarcastic, acerbic voice if you have no idea what she should be saying?!
And, naturally, lack of funniness makes this blog rather dull.

Can you learn to be funny, I wonder? Or I am doomed to a humorless existence for the rest of my days?

Any advice from the funny folk out there who are reading this would be quite nice.