NaPM Aril 3rd 2019
#1
To set up a new thread for each day of April; First off, make sure no one else has already posted for that date. If not then copy and paste this post into a new thread and fill in the necessary information.


Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for National Poetry Month.

NaPM April 3rd 2019

Topic: A poem mentioning a Shakespearean character? [in any way you choose]

Form: Any

Line Requirement: 8 or more
Reply
#2
(04-03-2019, 01:34 PM)billy Wrote:  To set up a new thread for each day of April; First off, make sure no one else has already posted for that date. If not then copy and paste this post into a new thread and fill in the necessary information.


Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for National Poetry Month.

NaPM April 3rd 2019

Topic: A poem mentioning a Shakespearean character? [in any way you choose]

Form: Any

Line Requirement: 8 or more

Since someone is bound to ask, what was that thing about strophes in reverse order?

Update:  Oh, never mind - found the threadYou've got to pick up every stitch...
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
Reply
#3
What’s done is done

There is a weakness
in the strongest of men,
and the weakest
are faint vapors at noon.
My husband was a king
too frail to lift a crown
until I put it soaked and slick
upon his head. Macbeth would tell you
that thorns pierced his brow,
but he was no savior. His blood
hid within the veins. I reddened his cheeks
and redeemed this sorry state.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
Reply
#4
Damned Old Mole


What does it profit Hamlet’s father’s ghost
to pour his poison into his son’s ear?
Condemned to Hell when he, unshriven, died,
what benefit does he, afire, derive
from dragging down his murderer to face
like torments?  Not to mention his own son
who died red-handed, likewise regicide,
and, too, unshriven.  What this revenant
affirms is his unwillingness to grant
forgiveness, for which he deserves his Hell.



And, for the hidden option - just when I thought I'd figured out the assignment (did I?)


Verso


We thought on solid glories of the past,
of marble obelisks, reflecting pools
on which stern statuary frowned.
This was our true religion, built to last.

But soon these visions seemed the dream of fools,
conceits reality has ever drowned:
we could not cope, change ran too fast.
So, for diverting dreams, we changed our rules.

We thought of gleaming townships we would found,
of future cities brightly domed and glassed.
Our hopes became our planning tools;
we hammered markers into fallow ground.
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
Reply
#5
Can I get another round?
Im-were, we are celebrating
A new day!  A new time of new
Beginnings and we're ready!
We're ready, and can I say...
I just want to say that you guys,
Are the best guys, any guy could ask for.

I'm getting married, and,
I'm so happy, I'm happy, and...
I'm so happy that my Juli is 
Marrying me, and you guys are here
To celebrate with me and tomorrow
Is the first day of the rest of my life.
The first day, of the rest of, of my life.

*I went with the original prompt, name dropping Juliet ... Even though this never happened in Shakespeare anywhere? I wouldn't know sorry
Reply
#6
Tear him! Tear him!

He murdered Caesar
and then had the audacity
to wet his lips with lies
one last time-
poet of nothing, but betrayal.

I was close enough to smell the copper
spill onto the ground
that shook with displeasure
after the assassination.

His life now a closed book,
best left shredded apart,
unread.
Time is the best editor.
Reply
#7
^^ At last poor Cinna is commemorated
Reply
#8
Pandaring is the proudest
profession, while the lowest
is womanhood.

Jews
and blacks
have more choice
than women.

No woman is too young.
No woman is too mad.

Then be a man.
Reply
#9
In Diomed's arms, I am safe
and my father is safe
and Troy, whose most fortunate daughter
here cowers in the enemy tent,
sleeps in this bosom
and this womb,
safe. Better I take his arms
and draw them to between my legs
across my cunt up my gut
around my breasts to wrap around
my shoulders like a wall
than be seized
by his passions
like he seized
the Palladium. Better my father
see a smile
than bruises
on his beloved daughter's face.
Better I choose to love
and, in choosing, live
than keep my faith in a war
whose end is all determined.
Reply
#10
Comedy of Tragedies


Young Baldric had a cheeky Lear
and spelled it clearly with an "A".
He held his donkey Yorick near;
no not like that, he wasn't gay.
Except on Sunday's. When he'd ride
Horatio a sallow chap,
who often let his spyglass slide
inside young Baldric's trouser flap.

Alas poor Yorick's past his prime
as Baldric rides him one last time.
The king of silly asses dies;
Horatio do up your flies.
For all the world's a stage Macbeth
to languish in a tragic death.
Reply




Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)
Do NOT follow this link or you will be banned from the site!