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Bb Maria Klara Apr 2015
How strange it seems for one to see
at once all that they’re meant to be.

Unlike the man who wanted flee
by death. “To be or not to be?”

Perhaps now do I ask to thee:
How is it to live and to be?

Not to the immobilized tree,
that knows of nothing how to be;

Perhaps ask not the humble bee,
A bee is all it is to be.

Oh! Our knowledge is like a flee,
which is a tiny thing to be.

Or is it like the deep blue sea,
A vast blue strange odd thing to be?

The strangest thing: the stranger’s plea,
asking on if we are to be

more than this. Is the question key
to knowing what one is to be?

Oh let it be, I say to me.
What you will be, you are to be.
I was actually informed that this was not a ghazal. It rather disturbed me, but I suppose it will pass as a flawed one? This was prompted by Shakespeare's Hamlet as it was the class study at the time (March of 2013). It has been posted on Tumblr for quite some time but I believe it deserves a share here. I hope it delivers.
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
My bear my bear wherefore art thou?*
Doth thy moon not shiver till thy paws warm thy sky?
And hence forth the sun shall once again rise
Giving way to only more bear night lies?
This bear can supply warmth for the goldest moon,
But yet the sun can light her with what makes her to
Swoon, so my bear hath no strength to give her his all,
This bear dark golden, this lone green bag with doll.
Carsyn Smith Apr 2015
2B or not 2B -- that is the question:
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to trust
The estranged memory of my parked car,
Or to take arms against the flight of stairs
And, by ascending, remember. 1A, one floor --
No steps -- and by 1A to say we end
The footache and the thousand natural shocks
That heel is heir to -- ‘tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. 1A, one floor --
One floor, perchance no callis. Ay, there’s the rub,
For in these shoes of death what callis may come,
When we have shuffled off these mortal streets,
The lot must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of memories.
For who would bear the sores of party shoes,
Th’ endless rows of resting vehicles,
The low ceilings and countless steps,
The insolence of the inebriated, and the spurns
That patient merit of th’ unworthy takes,
When he himself might end the fuddled search
With a local inn? Who would challenge the stairs,
To grunt and sweat under buzzed breath,
But that the dread of someone waiting at home,
The undiscovered disappointment from whose bourn
No party-er returns, shaming the conscience
And makes us rather storm the steps to 2B
Than face anger we wish we knew not of?
Thus a spouse’s fury does make heroes of us all,
And thus the reality of ten more steps
Is boiled in the evening’s song and merriment
With little regard whether the car is parked in 1A
Or perhaps upstairs in 2B. -- Harsh you now,
The ground that catches me. -- Cushion, concrete bed,
I think I shall rest here.
A parody of Hamlet's "To be or not to be" speech.
sunshine Apr 2015
I am Hamlet
to be or not to be
I am Hamlet
that is the question
I am Hamlet
to live or not to live
I am Hamlet
that is the question
I am Hamlet
to commit life's greatest
woe upon thyself
I am Hamlet
that is the question
I am Hamlet
to take one's own life
I am Hamlet
...that is the question

a.a.
I said
”I love you so much it’s killing me”
and you kept saying sorry
so I stopped explaining
for it never made sense to you
what always did to me,
to let what you love
**** you
and never regret.

As Romeo is dying Juliet says
”I am willing to die to remain by your side”
and love was never a static place of rest
but the last second of euphoria
while throwing yourself out from a 20 store window
to be able to say
”I flew before I hit the ground”,
and it was glorious.

Don’t be sorry.
The fall was beautiful, dear.
The crash was beautiful.
www.CharlotteEriksson.com
If you're my girl
You'll know
Fighting for my attention was the expectation but I brought the actual reality
They still owe me a check
But they gave some to Beck
And I'm cool with that
The rain is just here because I told it to be
Just for you
No gimmicks, just intentions with a little background
I do love a good play though
When I'm not feeling a movie
I'd rather watch a more downed to earth one
That is more artistic than Shakespeare's way with words
Even he had a difficult time explaining the beauty of plays
Hell if I can, he was the pioneer
I'm just trying to enjoy this whole idea now
But you know what I'm all about
JM McCann Apr 2015
For starters I thought it was basically all dating and going out with
a different girl every night, little did I realize I would go to a high school with
like one hundred twenty  girls total. Subtract the seniors who are leaving soon,
and you have around 80 or so, then you subtract the girls who have no interest me in,
even as person and you have maybe forty or so, then you subtract the people who have
no interest in a boyfriend, and maybe if I’m lucky there are twenty five girls who
could have an interest in me.
Yeah needless to say I got that pretty wrong.

Also the speed in which “Yeah she’s cute please ***** off” goes to
“madly in love he wants to insert ****** act that we are supposed to call gross
and sometimes is gross
her.” elevates is shocking, now that girl
thought I would do anything for her.
I didn’t realize that middle school would continue, just with people
making out in the hallways.
Trolls and fun sponges slides up to the new guy and look for a mole hill
to make into an impassible mountain range.
Also I just realized that to “ball with us” does not mean play basketball,
and is not something that saying you are “all about that bikelife” is not a way
out, its just I’m really not a fan or wasn’t the biggest fan of the obsession with stats,
I make my bad habits nintendo to avoid things like the rather depressing news
anyway I think “ball with us” means get ****** with us, it took only about
half an hour of thought but I think I got it.
I never thought I would get mildly drunk to avoid racing the next day.
I never thought I would be sixteen and have a grasp of the world that I consider to be
nuanced enough, of course there are still things like red lights mainly just colored lights
that are very much below my age, yet I never would have thought that I would be sixteen
and still have my virginity, my mouth virginity, yeah.
I’ve heard girls talk about me, mainly not “oh my god he is so hot” but more
clueless about who the hell and what ever the hell was said about me
or videotaped,
like so what I listen to a song that was proud to have been current in 2008,
its a good song!
Or that I played Lady Macbeth in a play! I’m ******* proud
to be me! To be state champion (I know so subtle right?)
to have seen the weird wonderful things that I’ve been blessed to have
been part of, to have you as my reader I’m proud that somebody is seeing
this.
I’m not complaining about my life its just I thought
my love life would not be on life support at the age of sixteen.
Though maybe it would ****.
So this is me whining a bit
Tryst Apr 2015
Wouldst thou endure to fade like autumn gold,
To see thy treasures dulled in fading light,
To watch alone thy tarnished days unfold,
And pass a pauper into worthless night?
Who then will bring a wreath unto thy rest,
And keep thy garden flowered, as is thy wont?
The barren cross that lays above thy breast
Would bear thy name, yet bring to thee affront.
But if thou takes a servant to thy cause,
To tend thy garden and to do thy deeds,
And he would gift a son with no remorse
To tend to thee when his own strength accedes:
Thy treasure trove reflected in his gleaming
Would bring thee joy as thou is ever dreaming.
Inspired by Elizabeth Squires, in honor to the greatest of bards.
Sofia Carr Apr 2015
"'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed."
Oh, Shakespeare, knowest thou not what is in my dreams?
I am both for I do bad deeds,
yet from judgement I receive no relief.
Their eyes are adulterate, but so are mine;
both our eyes with sins do shine.
Thou seest not what I do;
I am evil through and through.
The worst of evils am I,
for in my soul I am kind,
though my exterior pierce like barbs,
for I let myself be rule not by my heart.
I soothe the pain with hidden love
praying at least to be forgiven by God above.
Inspired by Sonnet 121, written by William Shakespeare. The first line *is not mine*.
Francie Lynch Apr 2015
I never feel
More connected
With my world
As when I
Get sunburned,
Twist my footing outside,
Or pierced by an expectant
Mosquito.
Then I'm bitten
By the ashen irony
Of our soliloquy.
Tip of the cap to Hamlet's "too too solid flesh."
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