‘The “Greatest Show on Earth” Is Coming to a Close’ and Other Poetry by Bruce Dale Wise The Society January 21, 2017 Culture, Poetry 2 Comments The “Greatest Show on Earth” Is Coming to a Close By Sirc de Budalewe The “Greatest Show on Earth” is coming to a close in May; financially it could not make it in the USA. The Ringling Brothers-Barnum-Bailey—names will go away, Feld Entertainment, circus owner, has announced today. No longer will the three-ring show its marvelous display, the flashy costumes, juggling acts, parading in array, the elephant’s loud blast, the tiger’s growl, the zebra’s neigh, the horses running round in rings, the popcorn on a tray, daredevil acrobats beneath the big-top’s giant splay, the floppy clowns, the monkey mounds, the lions held at bay. Demand was dying, PETA whining, it had had its day. With changing tastes, computer games, how could the magic stay? At the Deploraball By Brice U. Lawseed The Trump supporters, showing up for the Deploraball, were greeted with profanities in accents horrible, with mace, eggs, screams, with bottles tossed, one man gashed in the head; but FBI and DC Law knew not of any threat. This is a peaceful group. We’re not attacking anyone. We’re here to have a jolly time. O, this is all in fun. We merely want to beat and protest those who dare to come. The National Press Club Building oft leaves its entrants numb. This ball is for the people, by the people, so therefore, there’s gonna be blood, beatings, and intolerance. Fore! Score! Marcus Aurelius By Aedile Cwerbus Of human life, time’s but a point, its substance, flux each day, the composition of the body, subject to decay. The soul’s a whirl, fortune’s hard, and fame’s devoid of sense, perception’s dull, the mind lacks judgment, human nature’s dense. In short, all that belonging to the body is a stream; life is a warfare, strange its sojourn, soul is but a dream. What, then, can help? One thing, and only one, philosophy, superior to pain and pleasure, mete integrity, accepting all that happens, struggle, strain, and certain strife, without hypocrisy, with equanimity and life. The dissolution of one’s elements is nature’s thread. Why should a man have apprehension of his final breadth? Bruce Dale Wise is a poet living in Washington State who often writes under anagrammatic pseudonyms. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 2 Responses Wir Sebeca Lude January 26, 2017 It’s odd to find someone thinking about Marcus Aurelius in the 21st century. Reply Cu Aswerl Ebide January 28, 2017 The end of the circus tradition in America hardly elicits a comment. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.