A Line of Shakespeare Poetry Contest The Society May 8, 2019 Culture, For Educators, From the Society, Humor, Poetry, Poetry Contests 148 Comments Winners announced here! Write a short poem that begins with one line from any Shakespeare play or poem. The poem should be two to four lines in length. Post it in the comments section below under your full name and general area of residence (“Bob Smith, Denver, Colorado”). Two entries allowed per poet. When: Now until June 24, 2019 midnight EST. Winners Announced July 1, 2019. Who: Anyone in the world, any age or background, may participate. From within the Society, anyone, including Advisory Board Members, not involved in judging the contest may participate. (If you are outside the United States, you will have to have a PayPal account or a bank that accepts U.S. checks to receive the prize money if you win.) Prize: $100. You will also win this William Shakespeare pen donated by Joe Tessitore of New York City. Judge: Advisory Board Members and selected poets. Entry Fee: None Examples: Our first example and the idea for this contest comes from Mr. Tessitore, who came up with this contest. Thank you, Joe! In the Toilet Brevity is the soul of wit, yet on my brains I choose to sit, long-winded, (here a pun, methinks!). Small wonder, then, such humor stinks! Views expressed by individual poets and writers on this website and by commenters do not represent the views of the entire Society. The comments section on regular posts is meant to be a place for civil and fruitful discussion. Pseudonyms are discouraged. The individual poet or writer featured in a post has the ability to remove any or all comments by emailing submissions@ classicalpoets.org with the details and under the subject title “Remove Comment.” Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 148 Responses T.M. Moore, Vermont May 8, 2019 Your Pleasure My Delight (Sonnet 65) That in black ink my love may still shine bright, I keep revising, till I get it right. Then, meekly, I my verse to you recite: Your pleasure brings me no end of delight. Reply Yomna July 14, 2019 Brevity is the soul of wit Recite those that could not admit I said, that have no wit nor time To contrive a more eloquent rhyme And thus I spent my nights sleepless To hoard up all my wittiness And that I failed I may admit That brevity is the soul of wit And many after me will try To collect all the wit under the sky To find out that wit can be Only achieved through brevity Reply T. M. Moore, Vermont May 8, 2019 For Susie, My Editor The lady doth protest too much, methinks: “Fix this, change that, delete this line entire.” My pride is wounded, and my spirit sinks, until I read, “Ah, this part lights my fire!” Reply Dusty Grein, Oregon May 8, 2019 Modern Life Lord, what fools these mortals be! Hypnotized by huge TVs, Glued to smart phones, or online. Missing out on family time! Reply Bolaji S. Ramos May 15, 2019 Bolaji S. Ramos, Lagos (Nigeria) My Sleeping Mistress My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun, Sealed by Morpheus, and now wait I must For this dreadful dusk to return her fun, That again we may row our boat of lust. Reply Doug Schoppert June 10, 2019 A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse That is of course unless the horse Is the famous Mr. Ed Reply Dusty Grein, Oregon May 8, 2019 Time to Get a Dog What light through yonder window breaks, still hours yet, ’til day begins? I spring from bed, now wide awake, and catch my daughter, sneaking in! Reply Mohammed Shahzeb Amjad June 4, 2019 You write good ones. The meter you use is very characteristic of Shakespeare, as is the suspense you build, until the last line where the crux of the stanza is revealed. Reply Peter Hartley May 9, 2019 To be or not to be that? is the question. The answer depends on what ‘that’ is. If that’s an improper suggestion I’m ever so pleased that it’s his. Reply Peter Hartley May 9, 2019 To be or not? To be ‘that’ is the question, Not to be or not, but to be that, To be sick and to have indigestion, I’d rather be this than have that. Reply James A. Tweedie May 9, 2019 As an Advisory Board Member I’m probably disqualified, but I couldn’t resist the temptation to submit something, anyway. From Richard III, V. IV: “A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!” Th’embattled, desperate King Richard said. A nearby steed replied, “I’ll help, of course!” And there he stood, the famous Mr. Ed! Reply Tony Damigo May 10, 2019 Nice one, Willlllbur James, I like it 🙂 Reply James A. Tweedie May 9, 2019 Richard III, V. III “Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power.” The playoffs are pro hockey’s finest hour. Which team will win his cup? Which three will lose? The Hurricanes, the Bruins, Sharks or Blues? Reply Peter Hartley May 9, 2019 (As my third submission this one doesn’t count and it doesn’t conform with the instructions anyway:) Thrfr snce brvty’s the sl of wt I’ll kp ths shrt ‘nd swt Reply Rajendra Singh Baisthakur May 9, 2019 Brevity is the soul of wit Pity many don’t have it. Reply Sathyanarayana M.V. S May 10, 2019 Wow Sir fantastic!!! Reply Kim Cherub May 9, 2019 Brevity is the soul of wit, Yet free verse is so long-winded! Perhaps it should be cut back a bit, Or better yet, rescinded. Reply Mae Leslie May 9, 2019 Poems written by Mae Leslie, Houston, TX Listen Silently Give every man thy ear, but not thy voice. (That is, if you have a choice.) When a situation might turn violent, is it best to stay silent? Stage Fright All the world’s a stage; we’re actors without a wage. We miss cues and bray, some lines we can’t bear to say. Reply Kim Cherub May 9, 2019 “Why am I a fool?” The liberal asked his tool. “Because you too grow erect Whenever your lusts rise, unchecked!” Reply Alexander Ream May 9, 2019 Now is the winter of our discontent, And I don’t like yours; away from my tent, For mine is more pure, mine’s more unique: Immune to a cure, abstruse and oblique. Gloucester, from Richard III Reply James Sale May 9, 2019 What a great idea for a competition! Love it – and already some wonderful entries; very imaginative! Reply Joe Tessitore, NYC May 9, 2019 True Love What light through yonder window breaks? From deepest sleep, true love awakes. The coldest hour is put to flight and vanquished is the darkest night. Reply Alex Andy Phuong May 9, 2019 Alex Andy Phuong, Alhambra, CA “Signifying Nothing” Existentialism is like pessimism And nihilism is like cynicism Be more like Pollyanna instead of Macbeth And enjoy life until the very last breath “All That Glitters is Not Gold” Gold might be as yellow as the sun But being wealthy is not always fun Treasure food and eat instead Or else those who do not eat will be surely dead Reply Esther Bunny Brown May 20, 2019 Can you cite what poems of Shakespeare you used for the first lines of your poems? Reply Alex Andy Phuong May 20, 2019 Hi Esther “Signifying Nothing” comes from a soliloquy in Macbeth in which Macbeth says that life is meaningless in Act V of the play. “All that glitters is not gold” comes from a line found in The Merchant of Venice. Thank you for asking! Best wishes, Alex Phuong Alex Andy Phuong May 20, 2019 Hi Esther, I honestly think that I misunderstood the instructions for this contest. The titles of my poems, “Signifying Nothing” and “All That Glitters is Not Gold” both come from Shakespeare. The lines that follow (4 lines each) are my own original writing. I apologize if I entered this competition incorrectly. Thank you! Sincerely, Alex Andy Phuong Rohini May 9, 2019 “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow” I shall return the money that I borrow This, for aye, has been the charlatan’s old song For what he takes, he’ll not return for long. Reply Sathyanarayana M.V. S May 10, 2019 Hahaha…super! Reply rohini sunderam May 13, 2019 Thank you David Watt May 9, 2019 David Watt, Canberra, Australia Love and Listen Love alters not with his brief hour and weeks, And works for introverts, as well as geeks, Who may not say a lot … but when they do! Each word of passion resonates as true. Reply Susan J Bryant, Texas Gulf Coast May 9, 2019 Play On If music be the food of love, go blow scorned horn at flirtle dove and blast a brassy raspberry feast to hex the dish of rakish beast. Reply Mike Bryant, Texas Gulf Coast May 9, 2019 Hark! Listen to many, speak to a few, Grok all around you, see only one, Seek ye the reason, glistening pure, The light in your heaven, She is your Sun. Reply Michael Allard May 9, 2019 A Better Time for Camping Now is the Winter of our Discontent, Not the time to set up your tent. If you want to enjoy a pleasant breeze, As you settle yourself beneath the trees, The summery sun of York you’ll find Is much more settling to the mind. Reply Susan J Bryant May 9, 2019 MacMutt OUT, damn Spot! OUT, I say! Pee on parquet – thou shalt pay! Reply Michael Allard May 9, 2019 Rap Master Brutus I came to bury Caesar, not to praise him I’m gonna fiddle and faddle and then I’ll daze him He’ll be lost in my rhymes and when I’m through He’s gonna look around and say ‘Et tu?’ Reply Sultana Raza June 2, 2019 Great! Funny as well! Reply Mike Bryant May 9, 2019 Global Warming? Now is the winter of our discontent, Where is the heat? Methinks ‘tis spent! Reply Jarek May 9, 2019 Jarek Zawadzki, Gliwce, Poland So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long there’s nothing you can get for free. Reply Frank May 9, 2019 Brilliant with all the puns implicit. Reply Frank De Canio May 9, 2019 Sorry, I wasn’t writing a poem beginning with a Shakespeare line. I thought I was commenting on the poem written by Joe Tessitore of New York City, Reply Joe Falocco - Texas May 9, 2019 He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. Because the sledded Polacks were not nice. He cut off their heads. And they fell of their sleds. “Should have quite while ahead”’s my advice. Reply Dan Blackston, Illinois. May 9, 2019 In purity of manhood stand upright to defend flag, country, and friends. In pride of motherhood give love and light to our children on whom the future depends. Reply Dan Blackston, Illinois. May 9, 2019 We are such stuff as dreams are made on, rounded with a little sleep, and yet every day I have a schedule and a job to keep! Reply Nancy Weber May 9, 2019 When I consider everything that grows Jack’s stalk apposes Pinocchio’s nose. Reply Thomas Switzer May 9, 2019 “Now, gods stand up for bastards!”/ Make hearts -weak and shattered- Strong and mended. Let us rise/ Above our curs’ed lives… / Dust off the shadow of the night,/ And bathe us in the purest light! Reply Sathyanarayana M.V. S May 10, 2019 The chaste palate of love, O’ Cupid, know Thee not…in breathless moans, true joy is gone! O’ angel of love, tune thy sweet cello… If music be the feed of love, play on! Reply Martin Rizley May 10, 2019 “Our little life is rounded with a sleep,” Framed by enigmas fathomlessly deep, Like, “Why do socks from washers disappear?” Or, “Why would folks vote Democrat next year?” While Hindus ponder how atman is Brahma, I ask how people chose that man Obama! Reply Tony Leo Damigo, Crestview, Florida May 10, 2019 Once more unto the breach. Of mice and men who boast and preach, and promise lies beyond their reach. A foul against free speech! Go thou, and fill another room in hell, reserved for politicians there to dwell. Those who’s nature, like sick pigs, spew their swill. And spread their lies to news-room spies, to spill. Reply Martin Rizley May 10, 2019 2B or not 2B, that is the question The driver faced upon his wife´s suggestion That in the mall´s garage, he´d lost his way, and needed to ascend to level “A.” Reply Monty May 10, 2019 Quality, Martin. That’d get my vote just for sheer innovation and imagination. Reply Monty May 10, 2019 Monty Phillips . . France. Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power. What sorrow? That this new age seems to’ve decreed That Verse be ‘free’; and will henceforth endower Future ages with notions that Verse be ‘freed’. Reply Monty June 4, 2019 1st line from: ‘A Lover’s Complaint. Reply Nancy Weber May 11, 2019 He that knows better how to tame a shrew, May have his hashtag settled by MeToo. Reply David Watt May 11, 2019 David Watt, Canberra, Australia Bewitching Bread “The wheel is come full circle: I am here.” Said Hansel, lacking any trace of fear. “The bread was just too good to waste for crumbs; We’ll enter the first candy house which comes.” Reply Keltie-Kewan Young May 12, 2019 Keltie-Kewan Young, Auckland, New Zealand “In the sea of green” In the sea of green a Little tree sprouts Breath of air flowing, surviving and flourishing The course of true love never did run smooth A quiet snaps in the sea of green. “The symphony” The harsh sun above can only speckle through the wall of leaves For One touch of nature makes the whole world kin While Trees sway through notes of wilted leaves fall like music A symphony we may never halt. Reply Keltie-Kewan Young May 12, 2019 Keltie-Kewan Young, Auckland, New Zealand “In the sea of green” In the sea of green a Little tree sprouts Breath of air flowing, surviving yet perishing For “The course of true love never did run smooth” A quiet snaps in the sea of green. “The symphony” The harsh sun above can only speckle through the wall of leaves Yet only “One touch of nature makes the whole world kin” While Trees sway through notes of wilted leaves fall like music A symphony we may never halt. Reply Keltie-Kewan Young May 12, 2019 Keltie-Kewan Young, Auckland, New Zealand “In the sea of green” In the sea of green a Small tree sprouts A Breath of air flowing, surviving yet perishing For “The course of true love never did run smooth” A quiet branch snaps in the sea of green. “The symphony” The harsh sun above can only speckle through the wall of leaves Yet only “One touch of nature makes the whole world kin” While Trees sway through notes of wilted leaves fall like music A symphony we may never halt. Reply Ben Berg May 14, 2019 Burnaby, BC, Canada “A Trove, by any Other Name” My bounty is as boundless as the sea, The world’s treasure thou art, in time, for me To find, through seven tides, through gale and breeze — My love, an ‘X’ shalt I mark down for thee. Reply Sheila Phalon May 14, 2019 She is spherical like a globe And empirical and bold Shall truth be told She is gold Reply Nancy Weber May 15, 2019 Sweet economy in its retort to Dromio’s anti-Irish (inter alia) sentiment. Reply Avery Miller May 15, 2019 By Avery Miller, USA Who wakes me from my flowery bed With funny face and downy head? No changeling of a fairy curse, But my dear baby come to nurse. Reply Christina Lang May 15, 2019 Christina Lang, Temecula, California For My Love Love is a spirit all compact of fire. Tell me, my love, what is thy desire? For mine is to give all that you ask, No request too grand or too great a task. Reply Beatriz Martos May 15, 2019 to be or not to be?, that is the question… i fall into disgrace not knowing my destiny or fate will the arrow pierce my open heart or will i soar above this charred and chastened plight tis better not to think too deep and wait upon god’s grace I reap Reply Rob Crisell May 15, 2019 Rob Crisell, Temecula, CA Past All Surgery Those are pearls that were his eyes; His knees, of pure titanium; Of steel do his hips comprise; But clay fills up his cranium. To the Invisible Spirit of Wine But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the vengeful morn which flings bright bolts, Enpiercing bloodshot eyes. My head – it aches! Once more the devil wine ‘gainst me revolts. Reply Gregory Spicer May 16, 2019 Honorificabilitudinitatibus Evaporates with the combustion of cannabis. Reply J. Ryder May 16, 2019 Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thy breath more sweet than the summer’s breeze is, The flow’rs, of summer to lilac blooms sway Whilst all the world’s lips wish to thy rose kiss. Reply J. Ryder May 16, 2019 Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So too dost my blood like an ocean surge, My heart,–(happy tide), twice daily doth soar Sweet thought when eyes thirsty on beauty splurge. Reply K. Wise May 16, 2019 Urinal This wins him, liver and all. Takes him to the bathroom stall. His pants unzipped, his colors fly. Being drunk is better than dry. Reply K. Wise May 16, 2019 Concussion O, full of scorpions is my mind! Their pincers on my cerebellar side. They cannot let my thalamus go. Neural stimulation evermore. Reply Monty May 16, 2019 Monty Phillips . . . France To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep . . Would seem, at first, a hopeless thing to try. But it can be achieved in just one sweep; A tragicomedy to wet the eye. Reply Monty June 4, 2019 1st line from: ‘A Lover’s Complaint’. Reply Kathleen Farrell May 17, 2019 Beauty “For beauty lives with kindness” Hear ye now! Let praises ring for magic in the early spring, and, dwell again with gentleness. Reply Sally Cook May 19, 2019 Sally Cook — Western New York Joan’s Dilemma While greasy Joan doth keel the pot, I doubt she wants to do a lot Of keeling to a boiling pot For, if too cold, who’ll eat a lot? Reply Sally Cook June 6, 2019 This line from Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act V, Scene 2 – Winter Reply Sally Cook May 19, 2019 Sally Cook – Western New York New Politics O brave new world, that has such people in’t! — Who shout and scream, have tantrums, and then spin’t — Think this the way to change that crucial minute. Just can’t get over that they didn’t win’t, Reply Sally Cook June 6, 2019 Above line from final act of The Tempest. Reply Theresa Rodriguez May 19, 2019 Tomorrow? and tomorrow? and tomorrow? This worry-fretting fear, when will it end? Oh, what will happen to me? Joy, or sorrow? Anxiety has never been my friend! Reply Bruce Wren May 20, 2019 Shakespeare Overweight Though Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch Of the ranged empire fall, This bulge upon my belt, in its demarche Proves an impregnable wall. Reply Bruce E. Wren May 20, 2019 A Shakespearean Problem Solved When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I turn for solace to a sweet girl’s sighs. Bruce Wren, Chicago, Illinois Reply Bruce E. Wren May 20, 2019 Bruce Wren, Chicago, Illinois Reply Bruce E. Wren May 20, 2019 Bruce Wren, Chicago, Illinois Reply Rachel May 21, 2019 Physics > Metaphorical Language “O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turn’d!” ‘Tis the most metal thing that one could say. Consider, though, that eyeballs are not metal And rather squish than shoot amid a fray. A Daughter, Ravished “Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee.” O, my shame died when they who raped me died; My father’s shame could not die while I lived. He wrote in me his shame and burned the book. Rachel Kohler, Corvallis, Oregon Reply Lucia Llano May 23, 2019 Lucy- West Texas “Thus with a kiss I die” I drowned in blooming roses and soft lips But how dare I forget that those roses have thorns, and those lips have teeth. Reply Lucia Llano May 23, 2019 I’m sorry! ^ This one was an accident, I sent it too soon. Reply Lucia Llano May 23, 2019 “Thus with a kiss I die…” Swimming in blooming roses and strawberry lips Drowning—How dare I forget that those roses have thorns and those lips have teeth. Reply Lucia Llano May 23, 2019 “My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still” For I no longer remember who I write these love poems to But I hold my breath, bite my tongue, and write her some daffodils -Lucy, West Texas Reply Caleb Hardy May 25, 2019 I didn’t read the instructions carefully I just wrote a poem based on a Shakespeare line. Now I have seen the lights of foreign ports — Strange constellations to my wondering eyes — And gazed on glittering golden royal courts, Bright mirrors of the sun beneath the skies. And in the warmth of homes in frozen lands, By glowing hearth fires I have broken bread, And in the northern sky I’ve seen the dance That living flames in strange wild measures tread. But giving sweeter pleasure than them all A comforter for travelers in the night Now comes to meet me with her welcome call — “That light we see is burning in my hall.” Reply Caleb Hardy May 25, 2019 The quotes are there only to show where the Shakespeare line is. Reply Frank De Canio May 25, 2019 A woman moved, is like a fountain troubled, but one that’s not will quench our thirst like waters from the Pierian Spring, wherefrom our wisdom’s nursed. Reply Frank De Canio May 25, 2019 Today we put forth tender leaves of hope, but hence a convocation of politic worms will pompously start nibbling at our scope, till we submit to its voracious terms. Reply Sophie Zhu, San Jose, California May 25, 2019 Fire, Bright Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury If that’s life, well! I can’t find it in me to worry Burn out! Yes, bravo! What a masterpiece of fate! Hand me that knife! I’ll show you just how bright I bleed Reply Sophie Zhu, San Jose, California May 25, 2019 Golden Rule And chastise with the valor of my tongue I will, for you have left your mind behind, By all the stars, we are queens! Destined to reign, destined to rule Reply A. Lincoln May 26, 2019 Fortune forbid my outside hath not charmed her In her fragile mind my glowing look doth speak to her and her alone. Yet were I were to him, as she wishes to be for me! Reply A. Lincoln May 26, 2019 God has given you one face, and you make yourself another. Did you think He would approve? Your altered declaration Is so far from His creation. Reply Ben Berg May 27, 2019 Burnaby, BC, Canada “Mistress’ Eyes,” a Haiku My mistress’ eyes are Nothing like the sun, for they Shine through dark of night Reply LUCY CORTESE May 27, 2019 When forty winters shall besiege thy brow And mirror image doth shame thou gaze In youthful splendor lieth old age now Thine beauty’s treasure bereft of praise Reply LUCY CORTESE May 28, 2019 SONNET CLIII Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep: His love-kindling fire I trieth to keep I, sick withal, sought Match.com And thither findith another creep Reply Rebecca P Jessup May 28, 2019 With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come – Or lacking mirth, at least no days too glum. Old wrinkles have I plenty, more’s the shame. Glad days or glum, the wrinkles always came. Rebecca Jessup Belfast, Maine Reply Rebecca P Jessup May 28, 2019 “With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come” is from Merchant of Venice. Reply Claire Zhu, Bay Area, CA May 28, 2019 Tis’ but a scratch The continuum of time and space is yet safe O’er there! Tis’ a butterfly, one I wish to catch Oh no! A plague o’ both our futures! Reply Claire Zhu, Bay Area, CA May 28, 2019 To weep is to make less the depth of grief Petty tears wasted on a falsehood Ornamental stars abbreviating the infinity of an unrelenting black night Reply BARKHA BARUAH May 29, 2019 HEAR MY SOUL SPEAK : WITH MY UTMOST DEVOTION FOR YOU TO HEAL, SOLACE OF TIME WHEN YOU NEED ME. THEY CAN’T DECEIT UNTIL YOU, ME ARE WE. Reply BARKHA BARUAH May 29, 2019 HEAR MY SOUL SPEAK : WITH MY UTMOST DEVOTION FOR YOU TO HEAL, SOLACE OF TIME WHEN YOU NEED ME, THEY CAN’T DECEIT UNTIL YOU, ME ARE WE. Reply Devatrai Jha June 1, 2019 DEVATRAI JHA In black ink my love may still shine bright For though feelings pour out of the vial of words In my inkpot, my quill stirrs the beauty of night As the moon’s crescendo sings of thy ethereal face Reply Devatrai Jha June 1, 2019 DEVATRAI JHA The lunatic, the lover and the poet All speak of the same crime: If thou hath not lived the moment Thou shall wilt like a rose under societal paradigm Reply Martin Hill Ortiz June 1, 2019 Martin Hill Ortiz, Ponce, PR The Quintessence of Dust and Pepperoni O! That this too solid flesh would melt! So that I, again, might fit this belt. Nay, I yearn to yield to pizzas hot: I will happy be and healthy, not. Reply Martin Hill Ortiz June 1, 2019 Martin Hill Ortiz, Ponce, PR All That Glitters Is Not Gold’s Gym To take arms against a sea of troubles, Free from here, I’ll brave a bracing swim. Sigh! With weary grunts, my sweating doubles: I am trapped inside a stench-filled gym. Reply Azra Mahisa June 1, 2019 My love as deep; the more I give thee Precious as the light; as pure as thou love can be The sun, the moon, the heaven; all can see That you are a god’s gift sent only to me Reply Rebecca Jessup June 2, 2019 As I do live by food, I met a fool– who never did learn anything in school, but still pretends to rule the world entire, the bloviating, greedy, fat, old liar! (First line from As You Like It.) Reply Rick June 2, 2019 Rick Blum, Bedford, MA Advice for a Chaste Critic Get thee to a nunnery Seek shelter from the swarm Of my incessant punnery You dub a blunderstorm The Pallor of Money To thine own self be true When others scoff at you Just flaunt your orange hue And blond hair gone askew Reply R Linelle G June 5, 2019 One’s Own “Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief” To Jack Jones I answer not, but just may well be Drenched impressions of this name, in the ocean I am left and recurringly remain Submerged in what I now call comforts betrayal, cradled in its embrace, it has kept me Reply Don Shook June 5, 2019 Instead of mounting barbed steed As frightful adversaries bleed He capers nimbly to display The pleasing nature of his way. The undiscovered country calls From tiny nooks and open halls To souls that for a solace yearn To dwell in peace, not to return. Reply Jared Pearman, Calgary June 6, 2019 The fewer men, the greater share of honour. This is the case for all we hold most dear In war, in work, and ev’ry endeavour It must be said, the leaner the better Reply Stephen Hagerman June 7, 2019 Macbeth: Act IV, Scene I “The witches” “Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,” and biting snubs from blinded grubs The honey on their tongues belie the frying frogs that flee the pyre. Reply Jared Pearman, Calgary June 7, 2019 Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, No Benedict am I, nor a Mumford, And not a Shakespeare either, though I try To use my wit while remaining most kind Reply Ruth Lintiso June 8, 2019 Ruth Lintiso, Maryland Fair Is Foul Fair is foul and foul is fair Look at this world’s paradoxical affair Chooses light but sleeps with despair Wise All that glisters is not gold Discern and be wise, know what is not told Open up your eyes and see this life Choose the truth, be not ignorant of the lies Reply David Paul Behrens June 9, 2019 Love is a Smoke (from Romeo and Juliet) Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; But love alone can’t make your spirits rise. Only faith in Existence brings to you The peace you must have to pull yourself through. David Paul Behrens La Verne, California Reply Gourab Mukherjee June 10, 2019 Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments.(Sonnet 116) Where blind eyes speaks of the truth behind, scathing in the despair of love. Reply Sarban Bhattacharya June 10, 2019 1. I am that merry wanderer of the night, The most conducive time for making love, When poets’ fancy takes unbridled flight, And Cupid’s dart wounds lovely moon above. 2. My parts had power to charm a sacred nun; The fire of youth she had suppressed for long, Till she her coyness did decide to shun, John Donne had proved her notion to be wrong. Sarban Bhattacharya, India Reply C.B. Anderson June 10, 2019 Sarban, I have no idea who you are, or might be, but I found your contributions here to be very evocative. Congrats. Reply Sarban Bhattacharya June 11, 2019 Title of the first poem: A Merry Wanderer .(The first line is from ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’) Title of the second poem: Spiritual Love. (The first line is from ‘A Lover’s Complaint’) Reply Sarban Bhattacharya June 12, 2019 Thank you C.B. Anderson for appreciating me. C.B. Anderson June 10, 2019 Summertime from Sonnet 18 Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day That’s ninety-eight-point-six degrees and humid? I wouldn’t want you any other way, Especially when I’m hot to trot and tumid. Reply C.B. Anderson June 10, 2019 Stalwart from As You Like It All the world’s a stage Where players play their parts; Stand, and act your age, Denouncing timid hearts. Reply David Paul Behrens June 11, 2019 C.B., this reminds me of the last verse in a poem I wrote in 1972. Shakespeare said the world’s a stage And we are all just players. Some of us don’t like the wage And so are just spectators. Reply C.B. Anderson June 10, 2019 Confutation from Cymbeline If she be furnish’d with a mind so rare As to bring silence to my own true voice, Then she has commandeered the very air, and yielding thereto is the only choice. Reply C.B. Anderson June 10, 2019 The Spirit of the Matter from Hamlet The head is not more native to the heart Than crazy hearts are good at cogent thinking, And neither is a poet’s crafted art Immune from episodes of heavy drinking. Reply Bruce E. Wren June 10, 2019 Ha! Excellent! Reply Melissa Nazareth June 11, 2019 Summer Becomes Her Shall I compare thee to a summers day? A gust of warm wind is thine ire And as it bloweth, the sun doth shine Thy gaze like rays of fire The Almighty Herself Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more You cry has last reached heaven’s door The Almighty Herself has shone her light On you. ‘Tis the end of female plight. Reply Melissa Nazareth June 11, 2019 Bahrain/India Reply Monty June 11, 2019 Just for the sheer sophistication of the word-play . . I hereby declare Martin Rizley’s ‘2b or not 2b’ to be the winner of this competition (at least in my psyche). Reply KEN POSEY June 12, 2019 Healing Cuts Not a jot more, my lord. Cut’s deep as a sword. Love’s scalpel has begun As hearts converge into one. Reply Taylor Crosby June 12, 2019 Taylor Crosby, Crawfordsville, IN “Keep It Inside” Look like the innocent flower Bottle up your fiery rage Unless you wish all to cower As you depart your self-made cage “A Story That Ought Never Be Told” A wretched soul, bruised with adversity Whose heart is plagued by hatred of herself Because her mind believes with certainty That her story shouldn’t have left the shelf Reply Roy E. Peterson June 13, 2019 Roy E. Peterson, San Angelo, Texas Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thine hair is more like a dry stack of hay. Then when I came to embrace upon it, Pitchforks changed the tenor of my sonnet. Reply Roy E. Peterson June 13, 2019 Roy E. Peterson, San Angelo, Texas Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Hundreds of dollars on what thou cans’t mend? Thou paintest thine hair a weird shade of blue. Thine face ash appeareth, a ghastly hue. Reply Roy E. Peterson June 13, 2019 In line 2 it should be “can’t” instead of “cans’t.” Reply Lily Canniff June 13, 2019 Over hill, over dale, A young woman, frail, Wanders the world, Heart unfurled. Reply Lily June 14, 2019 Lily Canniff, Arizona Reply Mark Stone June 14, 2019 Since only two poems can be entered into the competition, the first two poems are my entries in the contest and third one is just for fun. My thanks to my wife for helping edit the second poem. — Mark Stone, Ohio, U.S.A. The lady doth protest too much, me thinks. She still contests the vote and says it stinks that Trump won in an underhanded way. But who paid for the FISA dossier? I loved not so wisely, instead much too well. The lesions ensuing continue to swell. The decades of carefree, insouciant mingling have left me all crusty and itchy and tingling. Good night. Good night. Our parting is sweet sorrow. The ousted Senator leaves town tomorrow. Instead of draining it, he turned the swamp into a hot tub where he loved to romp. Reply Rebecca P Jessup June 14, 2019 Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And here in Maine, the buds are weak and few Until mid-June. The winds of winter stay Too long, too long. Brief Summer’s skies–so blue! Reply Christopher Calvin June 15, 2019 Christopher Calvin, Mojokerto, Indonesia The Day for The Bride Maiden pinks, of odour faint, I sense flourish day, and nature’s bliss True sweet existence followed by song of birds Angel ascends, bell rings, Here comes the bride Reply Christopher Calvin June 15, 2019 Christopher Calvin, Mojokerto, Indonesia Bad Wind Away from Today Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: Sing me joy, yell me love, enjoy this life As we blow winter, bring wind of autumn, light of spring As our friends not fiend, may these times alive and live Reply paul hawkes June 15, 2019 Shall I Compare Thee To A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream? shall I compare thee to A summer-‘s day? Will’s Night’s Dream fairy Mid-dle of the play get to Bottom of who lover maybe sonnet’s secret Dark Lady mystery Reply paul hawkes June 15, 2019 Playing On The Hunger For Love if music be the food of love, play on words going off the neck-tar of the guitar scale son (et Welsh-Harping on about a banquet of the key senses the playing’s the thing to air-on-a-g-string-out her defences Reply Isabella Childs June 15, 2019 Unloving Insight I love nothing in the world so much as you-is not that strange? Till I recall love’s eyes- Which never see the blind- Or dumb or lame. Reply Isabella Childs June 15, 2019 Thy Taxes, Citizen (Direct Un-Deposit Advice) To thine own self be true, Yet by unfortunate report thy livelihood disown; With taxing labor file down thy figure too, Till thy remains are worse than gross. Reply E. A. Akindele June 15, 2019 E. A. Akindele, Edmonton, AB, Canada I. Cowards die many times before their deaths And cease from life to draw a single breath. To die in shame is murder to the soul, But oh, to live for love is bliss beyond! II. All that glitters is not gold And all that fails is not folly For by fate, good and bad Shall be revealed consequently. Reply Franklin P. Scudder, Cixi, Zhejiang, China June 15, 2019 (Pericles, Prince of Tyre, Prologue) “Et bonum quo antiquius, eo melius,” But can we hope, in this now fallen age Where Culture shakes as Marxists rage, That even Shakespeare might deliver us? (The Rape of Lucrece) “Shall rotten death make conquest of the stronger?” Never! While Faith still lives and hearts are pure, The flame of Western triumph shall endure And courage strengthen where the odds are longer. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.