Shame to Him Who Evil Thinks

I lou’d Ophelia; fortie thousand Brothers
Could not (with all there quantitie of Loue)
Make vp my summe. What wilt thou do for her?
Oh he is mad Laertes,
For loue of God forbeare him.
Come show me what thou’lt doe.
Woo’t weepe? Woo’t fight? Woo’t teare thy selfe?
Woo’t drinke vp Esile, eate a Crocodile?
Ile doo’t. Dost thou come heere to whine;
To outface me with leaping in her Graue?
Be buried quicke with her, and so will I.
And if thou prate of Mountaines; let them throw
Millions of Akers on vs; till our ground
Sindging his pate against the burning Zone,
Make Ossa like a wart. Nay, and thou’lt mouth,
Ile rant as well as thou.

For JB

Hamlet learned from the Diggers and the skull
That he lov’d Ophelia with a love that was non null
Listen to me you who are letting go
Might be time to just say No
And go back to her in Hell’s despite
Even a poor man can say, Dieu et mon droit, right? Right.

Shame to they who evil think
Who always sees the mote in the other’s eye
Who counseled me to have a drink
Because they envied me I know not why

It was quite a trick to be quite so seraphic
In TV land blighted as it was
It wasn’t my intention, this stunt…this trick
I admit to wanting to have a bit of a buzz

But God’s deep curse follow after
And in the hereinafter
Those who suggested that it would be altogether
Much more convenient if I left her.

Edward G. Nilges, “Ophelia’s Resurrection”, computer image of acrylic on canvas modified with Gimp, Jan 2009 and Aug 2010


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