Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Image borrowed from Bing
The oldest mask we are aware of
was made of stone in the pre-ceramic
I remember the freedom
an actor feels while wearing a mask.
My group in college performed a
commedia del’arte play, with me
playing Il Dottore struggling to revive
a stricken Arlecchino.
They say El Santo never removed
his mask, even after retirement,
being reluctant to relinquish
his hero status; only showing his
face briefly in public when he was
very old, and was buried wearing
his silver mask.
Native American and Inuit ceremonial
and ritual masks always frightened me
as a child, and every kind of mask,
from every corner of the globe
was a revered ancestor to clowns,
and their painted faces--even today
many of us still fear a clown.
Listed as #62 over on Magpie Tales 74
Would you like to hear the Author read this poem to you?