GLOBE theater, the restless crowd was
BRACEd for camp and bawd, felt time stop, alter course. Hamlet in
FILET collar saw the ghost; on his sword Horatio and Marcellus
SWORE silence. Yet secrets force their telling–his time now runs toward dreaming in the undiscovered land.
Tag: literary-allusion
Will Shakspere
BALER: perhaps an attempt at dance, or boat rescue?
SCORN for orthographic flexibility reduces play,
FETID precision replacing ludic life where the Bard might
POST to his blog under a dozen different variants on his name.
As I Imagine It
LIMITed suspense in this, my pedestrian life. Dramatic
IRONY either overlooked by me, or generally absent.
TERRA-trapped my life, my sensibilities, yet sometimes imagination gives a spark, as when this
ARBOR seemed to be Arden, and you Ganymede, and me pining for Rosalind, not yet knowing.
Invention
CHOIRs with orchestras and festive music are what
TUBAL-cain had in mind, inventing bronze instruments. Instead,
SCOURing earth, humankind mined, forged weapons of attack and
PARRY. Yet, on occasion, a battle horn would be used at night to sound the note of rest.
Note: Cf. Gen 4:22 “Zillah also bore Tubal-cain; he was the forger of all instruments of bronze and iron”. Sometimes, scripture can be frustratingly laconic. I would love to know more about Tubal-cain.
Ides of March
USURP the usurper, conspirators!
RADIO silence until the time comes.
SINCE we have no other ambition,
SWORN are we to crimson deeds.
Prufrock has Toothache
MOLAR pain. Prufrock, pondering again whether to propose, to
MARRY, but can’t think straight for pain. Will there be time enough? Or will time, a cat, slink away like coiling smoke into the night,
OPTIC trace decaying in the fading light? Pain, held at bay with
DROLL musings, unspoken to his peers. Pain, and droll, and fear: does the eternal Footman snicker as he passes?
Note: some (very) slender echoes of Eliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.
Dance
LUNGE across the dance floor like an electrocuted giraffe, the room changes from
GAZER into guffawer with literal spit-takes as glasses shatter around
GAUDY dresses and tuxes and shoes. Someone––anyone––please help. I, I mean, he needs it––
BADLY.
See more at Notes by Steven.
Weird
NEWLY enthralled Scotsman’s visage appears in the
BRINE bubbling double-time in the cauldron, his
PUPILs dilated at the promise of power merely
UTTERed in his presence.
See more at Notes by Steven.
Fool of a Took
MERRY tried in vain to stay awake, knowing Pippin’s
USUAL knack for digging himself into trouble, then…
KNOCK, bang, stumble, and an accidental
SHOVE sending the armor clanging like a doorbell.
See more at Notes by Steven.
Silent Descent
TAPER in hand, descending to the
NAVEL of the catacombs, where none
HEARD the Amontillado casks moved or the
LABOR of masonry finishing.
See more at Notes by Steven.