Two Occasional Poems for Shakespeare’s Birthday

Sonnet

You shall never be any thing so old
As egg and butter, or cod, or salt
Rather, if I may be so brave, so bold
As to say that time must have had an halt.
You grow young, like Benjamin Button doth
More strengthened with each passing year
More known throughout the world both
In name and fame to Godhood near.
Others abide the hand of all voracious time
Others become but homework forgotten in the car
Others unto dust like chimney sweeps decline
But you are yet our rising star.
Therefore we greet this blessed anniversary Day
And unto you we sing the loudest Lay.

Greene With Envy

Greene with envy, they couldn’t even be original
But stole your own lines in hopes you’d fall
A Tyger’s heart wrapt
In a Players Hyde.

Yes an upstart Crow
Calling what only seemed to be untuned notes
Which fell like blood upon the snow
Of the heart’s bone body.

Wait a minute that cannot be right,
It is not learned enough
But they looked again, like Mad Gardeners all,
And day was night and it was right.

The crookback approached the King Maker’s Daughter
Trundling her father in law through London.
Now, they thought they knew how it oughter
Be.

But wait a minute she found him strangely hot,
Which was discomfiting:
He was negation, he was not
But then out of nothing crawled … something

The thing of darkness we all wants ta be
A fat-bellied spider, fascinating.

And, so on it poured for a while the mystery play
As night precedes the day,
And then there were those yellow sands
And Kate of Spain forgave old ‘Enery, and then a matter, of ends.
The winding up of things, second best beds, the return of rings
And then Death eats us all up players, kings and Player Kings.

But you had other things on your mind.
Such as being patient and such as being kind
And such as waiting long hours in London town
For a neighbor to bring the news “The Kids Are All Right”
From Stratford on the Avon.

Germaine Greer came very near the truth
Capacity for suffering to suck it up
The choice to be ruthless or to be Ruth
What on what shall dine and sup.

Sing the heart’s bone body.
Take us back to saelig
Silly blessed and holy
Sing the heart’s bone body.

Both poems guaranteed no-shit original and written on 23 April 2012, Edward G. Nilges. Moral rights have been asserted so don’t get gay with me.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: