All posts tagged: Shakespeare

All the world’s a stage…

Julius Caesar Act 1. SCENE II. A public place. Flourish. Enter CAESAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer CAESAR Calpurnia! CASCA Peace, ho! Caesar speaks. CAESAR Calpurnia! CALPURNIA Here, my lord. CAESAR Stand you directly in Antonius’ way, When he doth run his course. Antonius! ANTONY Caesar, my lord? CAESAR Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say, The barren, touched in this holy chase, Shake off their sterile curse. ANTONY I shall remember: When Caesar says ‘do this,’ it is perform’d. CAESAR Set on; and leave no ceremony out. Flourish Soothsayer Caesar! CAESAR Ha! who calls? CASCA Bid every noise be still: peace yet again! CAESAR Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Cry ‘Caesar!’ Speak; Caesar is turn’d to hear. Soothsayer Beware the ides of March. CAESAR What man is that? BRUTUS A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March. …

A Terrible Good…

The following is a poem I wrote some time ago, in the style of a Cento; which is a form composed entirely of quotes from other authors. A conglomeration, if you will; a grouping together of lines that moved me in their own individual manners – such that I simply had to put them in touch with each other. Do not look for meter, or any of the more conventional techniques normally associated with poetry. You’ll not find them here. The only criteria for inclusion was intent and emotional meaning. Rhythm and rhyme were not consulted, nor was metaphorical simultaneity. I had something I needed to get off my chest, and only these lines would do.

More Cheese…

I had replied to a commenter on my post yesterday on Cheese (with a capital ‘C’, because Cheese is very important), with an attempt to bring all the wondrous glory that is cheese (oops… I mean Cheese) into a poem, of sorts… That attempt, such as it is, is as follows: Would the Bard work as hard on a poem about Cheese, If the Cheese smacked of chard, and was hard, if you please? A bit Seussicallian, to coin a word, and to give my poor efforts entirely too much credit by association. Surely, I thought, (I really hate it when I refer to myself as Shirley… even in my own head…) I say, I thought, surely I could do better than that!

The English Poetic Mind by Charles Williams – an appreciation, of sorts…

Charles Williams, a contemporary and friend of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, wrote prolifically about many things, among them literary criticism, plays and poetry, as well as seven wholly remarkable novels, which to this day remain on my must read (and re-read) short list. I find myself agreeing with Lewis in the belief that if a book is worth reading at all, it is worth re-reading many times. A book which, upon a second reading, no matter how much it might have engaged us on the first pass, fails to rekindle the excitement, the wonder, that out-of-body sense of other-worldliness, is a book that probably didn’t elicit those reactions the first time through, but held us through sheer novelty, whether via technical innovation or obtrusiveness of subject matter…