#shakespearean
Fie on this dross! My wit is dull’d and spent,
Like rusty blade that bites not at the foe.
Where is that fire from Heav'nly regions sent,
To make the muddy waters clearly flow?
Thou art the sun that gilds my darkest thought,
Yet shroud'st thy face in clouds of sullen grey;
By thy decree is every wonder wrought,
Or by thy scorn, my spirit cast away.
Pluck from my tongue this heavy, silent stone,
And tune my voice to match the morning lark;
I’ll sing a song for thy perfections known,
And strike a light within the biting dark.
For though the world may mock this humble rhyme,
Thy name shall outstep even greedy Time.
[ 2 2 2 ]
Mar 26
Mar 26, 2026 at 11:05 AM UTC
The stars lit softly in my youthful eye
Promised me dreams that one day I too could
Project my light as I lay in the sky
Oh, I heard them tell me so - that I would
With her affectionate breeze in my hair
Therapy to each diminutive strand
Whenever I stood alone she was there
Every small step I took she held my hand
But now she cannot save us from its wrath.
Trapped inside what was previously known.
Feeling more foolish than when on our own,
Exploring the vast world for what she hath.
The dream was a gift of our infancy,
Lit up infront of our eyes: vacancy.
Apr 29, 2025
Apr 29, 2025 at 2:19 PM UTC
~
*Hear me, and heed my woe,
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
how thy smileth reaches
thy eyen and
crinkles the c'rn'rs
immensely.
Thy confidence, a flame
yond burneth with f'rvent might,
intimidating, yet draweth me in,
as moth to candle's lighteth.
Thy passion is contagious,
thy excitement a thrill,
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
but mem'ries ling'r still
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
as thee gazeth into mine own eyen
bef're our lips meeteth
our intimate moments,
a sensual rapture,
thy corse, a w'rk of art,
sculpt'd p'rfectly in all its
muscular stature
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
the way we w're,
young with a future,
we couldst not seeth.
What ifs and maybes,
a maze, i tryeth to escapeth,
longing f'r what couldst've been,
a heart yond acheth.
Ev'ry fare thee well,
a pang in mine own chest,
feareth of nev'r seeing thee again,
and all yond is repress'd
Thy absence, a weight
yond i doth striveth to shaketh,
wond'ring wh're thou art,
what thou dost maketh.
Art thou joyous, art thou free from careth?
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
yet some days, 'tis hard to beareth.
In sooth,
i am not depress'd,
n'r doth i feeleth the blues, wh'reupon
i f'rce myself to not bethink on Thee …
by mineth owneth shall, anon.*
~
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 9:29 AM UTC
He is to me what kings are to their knight,
Who grants me trials that shape and make me strong.
He is the dawn that banishes the night,
Who gives me truth when all the world feels wrong.
He is a compass when I lose my way,
A steady hand when storms begin to rise.
His words are stars that help me not to stray,
A spark of fire beneath the cloudy skies.
He is to me the book the wise revere,
Each page a path to knowledge deep and wide.
He speaks, and thoughts long buried reappear,
A tide of wonder I no more can hide.
In every lesson, he bestows me grace—
A guide, a torch, the sun upon my face.
Apr 17, 2025
Apr 17, 2025 at 4:15 AM UTC
Sonnet 118
“Your weak Achilles your Achilles is”:
The physiotherapist’s dry wit. I wince.
I emphasise I stretched, and all that ****
She brooks not my entreaties. “How long since
you pranged it?” Several weeks. I hobble first
thing, until it warms up. Ok to run
on normally within a month. But worse
this time. The Sybil cackles. “Time? Time’s done
this. Time.” Mad scrawl on oak leaves. “Pharmacist.
For non-steroidals. Go now. Sacrifice.
And write such elegiac as thou list
unto Apollo, for his benefice.”
I hurry home, and from my parched well’s drought
this strangulated pizzle dribbles out.
..........
Sonnet 120
The bridge crosses the brook, from which bald tyres
and trolleys long ago displaced the nymphs.
Grim lane of bail hostels and rusty wire;
the twilight may as yet afford a glimpse
of gnomish junkies ferreting damp leaves.
Time, like the Frome’s slime, slithers sourly by,
its minutes measured out in drunk’s dry heave
until the next burst vein or artery
shall dye the beige a fetching ketchup. Now
edge past the knot of slightly threatening men;
it’s all with nature of a piece. The Tao.
Sacred and ******* then. Now, again,
night falls. The pavement drinkers swear and spit,
and Cabot Parking’s exit ramp is lit.
..........
Sonnet 131
For mead of night just superseded I
keep this day to my chamber, and here dwell
with all my secretary close. ‘Tis dry,
and sap exudeth eke from outer shell;
evaporations of élan vital.
For which, repentant, ’tis my stern resolve
to ingest an astringency: a phall
or sour grapes, whatever it involves.
The heartburn of defeat and, on the tongue
the ashen taste of petty victory,
the biting gall that’s from each douceur wrung:
’tis bitter harvest. Yet it harvest be,
for in foulness exquisite flowers bloom,
and profane wit illuminates the gloom.
May 12, 2021
May 12, 2021 at 6:35 AM UTC
My heart, still haunted by you, star-crossed dear
Forever poisoned by enchanted song
The anger, heartbreak, melancholic fear
usurped sweet shards of time when you were gone.
Choked chasm of a soul, yet I cannot cry,
Sanctity of my sanity laid bare,
My shattered mind continuing the lie
That the person who loved me is still there.
And my eternal torture shall not fade,
In my chest there lies a broken viola,
You would think me mad that I have not strayed,
But my soul, it denies me a Volta.
Madly I loved her, and madly I kept,
Sadly the madness is all that is left.
Mar 12, 2021
Mar 12, 2021 at 5:50 PM UTC
There have been so many thoughts
running through my mind
that it leaves my heart in knots
and my existence so blind.
"Why do I feel cast aside?"
"Why am I being rejected?"
These thoughts make me want to hide
because it makes me feel so dejected.
The thoughts I have keep coming back,
I then ask myself, "is it me?"
"Is there something that I lack?"
"or is it something bigger that I can't see?"
"Will it always be like this?"
I don't want to reminisce.
Dec 22, 2020
Dec 22, 2020 at 4:24 PM UTC
this is a song
it’s about math
it’s not too long
i’m sure of that.
math has always
been quite fun
and you’ll never faze
the endless puns.
math can be easy
math can be hard
but it’s never cheesy
it’s never charred
well, that’s all for this poem today
but math? it’ll always be there, in a way.
Aug 29, 2020
Aug 29, 2020 at 4:20 PM UTC
Thy naked flesh,
O' so beautiful-
Kissed by the moon,
Tickled by the stars,
Their light shines off thee,
Wet to the touch,
Salty to the taste,
Marred by the stain of sin,
From my crimsoned lips
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 6:27 AM UTC
I'm wading in the waning evening light
awaiting to be washed ashore in song
together dancing in the cusp of night -
oh, won't you waltz with me forever long?
From panoramic dusk to moonlight's yawn
meandering along your southern shore
our dance will persevere into the dawn -
these twilight steps I've always known before.
With guiding hands you set a lively pace,
engulfing journeyed soles in rhythmic peace
and feeding weary soul with easy grace -
like footsteps disappearing in the sea.
In time to singing waves does my heart beat
as every sun and moon shall rise, repeat.
Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 11:08 PM UTC
I address this letter to you, in part
to speak of a new time in my life.
For a dashing beau has stolen my heart -
your youngest is set to become a wife!
His touch is cold as a December day,
but his heart’s warm as the high summer sun.
He doesn’t seem the type to go and stray,
just don’t expect grandbabes - he ain’t much fun!
He’s a striking gentleman, famous too,
and he pens the most beautiful of works!
So, with this, my life shall begin anew.
Hello city folk, goodbye Georgia berks!
If y’all plan to meet, you’re plum outta luck,
alas, my dear Edgar is dead as ****
- t.h.
Oct 20, 2019
Oct 20, 2019 at 2:18 PM UTC
Your humble florets hug the rough-hewn stone,
Your yellow sunbursts shock against the gray,
All tangled up together, none alone
As, stem to stem, you ward the morn away
Reminding me of duties for the day:
To comfort those who suffer all alone,
To stand with those who struggle on their own,
To see an obstacle and find a way.
It's toil, travail, and trouble for no pay,
But look how far we've come and how we've grown -
A wallflower's a humble thing to be,
But tangled all together, they are strong.
The bonds we forge in striving, all as one,
Enduring tests? They will not be undone.
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 12:02 PM UTC
I know a man who locks himself inside
His head, his conversations, tucked away
Behind a maze of cheer. Each day, he's lied
A thousand times. He clocks out for the day
And, free but weary, sheds the mask for sleep.
I start the day with coffee, bitter, black,
Which suits my mood just fine. I earn my keep,
then turn around and give until I lack.
The coffee doesn't last, and by the end
I've found myself a stronger, harder drink.
I watch him bottle workdays up, my friend,
And brew himself instead. I'd like to think
We both get by. That doesn't do much good.
This place devours us and drinks our blood.
Jun 26, 2019
Jun 26, 2019 at 11:41 AM UTC
Is poetry a way to cope with pain?
My chest throbs dully in low agony.
You see, heartache is a physical thing.
It hurts as if it's any wound to me.
I'm not afraid to state my malady,
Depression is what resides in my brain.
And it's the way it manifests, I hate
In doubting in myself, and what I'm worth
In old memories, losses, things of weight
Frustrations pop and boil as on a hearth
Sometimes I wish for return to the earth,
But I've been down that road, in bitter pace.
I write, not for the pain, which wont relieve.
However, when it's shared, it will indeed.
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 7:25 AM UTC
I doth love thou with most every an ounce of mine own being
So much so yond mine own heart, nor mine own soul hath not the capacity to deny
O, I doth so hold dearly to mine own consciousness
The knowledge yond I truly beest enamored by thee, mine own dearly beloved
Is the reason I shalt subsist; ‘tis for the envy I hold for the world
And for the love of thee; I doth so deeply cherish
Our time together
And as such is true for dram to nay extant being
For thou art mine own muse, wonder of human creation to behold
With a mind full of thoughts and with a heart full of envy, love, and sorrow
We shalt over wroght
And beest ever so true to thee, I shalt beest
Nay want of yare
Nor an abundance of need
Shalt dispell the love I doth hath for thee
For it hath been writ in stone
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 3:33 PM UTC
Thy recesses of heart bestowed upon thee
Art the work of a Master, a prodigy forsooth
Thou hast the complexion of that which is pure
Harbingers of hell doth cower ere
Thine beauty of thee; shalt prosper evermore
Allow me to apologize,
For a queen art thou to me,
Whom ‘gainst one could not make delations
Long after yon, at which hour thou art gone
But if 't be true come the day, forced; thy queen walk hence
Shalt thee leave me, nay!
Still wilt ye reside ‘longside me
Beest t in flesh, or beest t in heart
The love I hath for thee, wilt nev'r fall apart
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 3:26 PM UTC
Thump, thump, thump
Thy heart hath been cast in the dunnest depths of hell
Where all is horrid, and none doth fair well
Thump, thump, thump
Cause teen doth thee, nay!
For teen done unto me, is not as such unto they
Thump, thump, thump
And louder and louder grows the melody of thy temperament
And not four, three, two, but one doth descend from the firmament
Thump, thump, thump
To bringeth peace to the wretched, woeful pentameter
And wish dismemberment upon thy casted phenyl ether
Thump, thump, thump
The hurtling, the hurtling, it grow’st, ever so behooved!
Make it stop, my dearly beloved!
Thump, thump, thump
O, that cursed noise! Let it be dispelled!
Wish I not to feel! To hear! To hell, be it! To hell!
Thump, thump, thump
O, I beg of thee, let thy ***** heave one last time!
Let thy heart love once more, bittersweet as thyme!
Thump, thump, thump
I can go on no longer, I’m sure of it now! Tear my mind from its host!
O, please, my love, my one and only, let it be death’s turn to boast!
Thump, thump, thump
O yes, yes, I wish such upon thyself, for glee I hath not!
In thought, in feeling, I am most distraught
Thump, thump, thump
Can not the same be said for thee?
Mine own love, mine own lady! End thy teen and let it beest seen!
Thump, thump, thump
I wish this odious hurtling beest heard nay more!
O! Mercifully, shalt death’s hands cradle thee, and bring peace? Nevermore!
Thump, thump, thump
M’lady, my everything, say what you will
But pain any less seems rather fittingly ill!
Thump, thump, thump
To leave behind what ye hath built,
Arm in arm did we, as one; it would hurt more than a sword through that drum, deep to the hilt
Thump, thump, thump
O, let still it be heard! For cease, it shall not!
And lest not, we bethink our final bethought
Thump, thump, thump
For forever in my heart lives thee
And forever will thou be cherished, my fair lady
Thump, thump, thump
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 1:19 AM UTC
The night winds down to embers, left to die
All smoldering and seething, coiled apart
Like rattlesnakes engaging eye to eye
Instead of lovers sharing heart to heart.
This could have been avoided, some would say,
If they were different, were these different times.
Some better, more auspicious holiday,
Perhaps, but winter offers bitter climes.
Now elsewhere, things are better. Elsewhen, too.
The curtain falls across an empty stage,
Our actors long departed, longing too -
What's longing, as you're flying from the cage?
Together and together, free as birds,
Beyond the humdrum cares of poets' words.
Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 11:18 PM UTC
Thy pride is as ancient as the splendor sun,
Thy flame is as old as the ashes of eternal glory,
Thy wrath is as wretched as the false marbles of Nero,
What giveth thee such wicked pride, thy over charring flames:
Thy envy or greed is as vast as the unbinding waves;
Twas by chance a ray of light you saw by blunder:
Why did all the scorching heat turn Into morbid ice,
Life’s a shadow; more you insist more wretched thee become,
Long agone before thy birth, angels bowed before thee:
What giveth thee such wicked pride or thy undying flames,
Thou shan’t creep to darkness nor fret over the long winter,
Thou art prey to thy desire, slave to sweet temptations,
In thy gods name thee eagerly trample upon countless souls:
You have forgotten that you are meant to be human,
Proud is what you are, pride is all you have for eternity,
May thee remember; why and whence thee came in.
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
A florist’s dream swept through before the sun
Peeked up past the horizon, burning bright:
An April shower scouring the night,
A soft cascade of blessings set to run
Down windowpanes and eaves, down ruddy dun
Of brick and craggy stone alike. The sight
Of sunrise sets the dewy world alight,
Each blossom scintillates, an all-in-one -
In gazing into crystal ***** one sees
A multitude, a myriad of hopes,
A million shrouded possibilities,
The fascination of each half-dreamed thing,
But in the dawn, my rooftop’s rain-slick slopes,
I see the blooms of May begin to spring.
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 10:30 AM UTC
What was our love,
If not just an other Shakespearean tragedy?
An other story of tragic heroes cursed by their fate,
Struggling to exist within their characters.
You, facing the external conflicts from family.
Me and my internal conflict
(of not being courageous enough).
Our tragic loss of our selves and each other,
Thanks to the diabolical supernatural elements,
Playing their own characters in the play.
The lack of poetic justice,
causing a poor end to the tragedy.
And in the end a comic relief,
through the humorous character of time it self.
Tell me again,
What was our love,
If not just an other Shakespearean tragedy?
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 4:50 AM UTC
Modern-day English
My promise to you is always to love,
I will endure quietly until the end.
You are like an elegant pure white dove,
I will be your lover and your best friend.
I will listen until tomorrows,
I will fight and I will always treasure.
You are as beautiful as a red rose,
It will be just me and you forever.
I will walk beside you hand in hand,
I will tend to you when you're in sorrow.
Cause you are my percussion to my band,
I’ll build you up from here until tomorrow.
I love your heart, your soul, and your singing,
Because you’re my favorite human being.
Shakespearean
My Promise to you is always to love,
I shall endure anything until the end.
you are like an elegant pure white dove,
I shall be thy lover and thy bestest friend.
I shall listen from here to the tomorrows,
I shall protect you and I shall cherish your treasure.
thou art as quite beautiful as a red rose,
It will be just me and thee forever.
I shall walk beside you hand in hand,
I shall tend to you even if you are in sorrow.
Cause you are my percussion to my band,
I’ll build you up from here until tomorrow.
I love thy heart, thy soul, and thy singing,
because you’re my own favorite human being
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC
modern English
I want to promise to love you, my lover,
I’ll never hurt you for the rest of my days
At this moment I will be your friend forever
I could tell you my love in many ways
But none of them are good enough for you
I will spend my days with the one I love
Because we are the perfect two
I will always be your elegant white dove.
I hope that we can grow old together
Our families may be enemies
But we could be like garlic and butter
When I am weak you are my remedy
With every beat of my heart,
I will love you till death due us part
Shakespearean
I wanteth to gage to loveth thee, mine own lov'r,
I’ll nev'r did hurt thee f'r the rest of mine own days
At this moment I shall beest thy cousin f'rev'r
I couldst bid thee mine own loveth in many ways
But none of those folk art valorous enow f'r thee
I shall spendeth mine own days with the one i loveth
Because we art the p'rfect two
I shall at each moment beest thy elegant white dove.
I desire yond we can groweth fusty togeth'r
Our families may beest enemies
But we couldst beest liketh garlic and buttocks'r
At which hour I am weak thou art mine own remedy
With ev'ry did beat of mine own heart,
I shall loveth thee till death due us parteth
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 2:35 PM UTC