It's your friendly neighborhood wannabe-poet checking in again! It was a beautiful day here, sull of sprin sunshine and nice temperatures. It wasn't anything spectacular - just nice. In short, my favorite kind of day. Couple that with getting to hang out with a dear friend over a couple of beers, and I'd say it was as close to perfect as I'm likely to find. Tomorrow will be more friends, I hope, and if the rain stays away, some time in a park. So keep your fingers crossed for sunshine!!!
But until we get sunshine, here's another poem. You know, because that's what I do. Today's poem takes its start from one of my favorite lines of Shakespeare, and then goes into my tangental offerings. It's a lovely little line that I have always enjoyed. Eternal props to Greg Ellstrom for allowing me to say it.
The Poet's Fate
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet are of imagination all compact.
Mad men, all, for with their every breath
demons surround them.
One raves against them all, his utterings a self-induced opiate to dull the pain.
The next forgoes all thought and in the carnival of flesh finds his escape.
The last, oh yes, the last, the one for whom there is no end of torment.
His devils follow every movement of pen to page,
Were he to show them, then all is known, and and he will diminish,
but to keep them silent only makes then strong of will.
Fame may be found, but it is fleeting,
He suffers needlessly.
And dies poor and wretched, oft forgotten.
His words lose their pull, and he becomes just a footnote for the next generation.
Yep - thought I'd try something a little different tonight, another experiment, if you will. The very first line is Shakespeare, the rest are mine - though, admittedly, it follows some of Shakespeare's ideas and form...but not the words. Hey, thanks for reading!!
The Fat Kid
1 comment:
This is a lot of fun - and what a line to choose from a great play! I was impressed that you spliced the line into your own as well as you did. It didn't seem out of place, and I might not have caught it if you hadn't pointed it out. This poem was also great fun to read, as my first time through I misread what a few of the pronouns were referring to, which resulted in a shift of perspective that was as delightful as the intended, I believe. What if "One raves against them all," 'One' didn't refer to the lunatic, but to the poet or the reader, and the poem was actually a commentary on how the third party relates to all three, thus making an invisible fourth. The poetic equivalent of breaking down the fourth wall of theater, I suppose. Obviously the rest of the poem isn't really meant to be read this way, but for a few lines I imagined it was, and I found such a reading utterly fascinating. Something to possibly think about for the future!
Oh right, the rest of the poem read along nicely enough, though I wouldn't have minded seeing a few more lines to flesh this out a bit more. Still, it works as it is, and I appreciate the last few lines quite a bit. Nicely done, my friend.
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