Shakespeare's tomb in Stratford, photo by Carlos DelgadoA Poem on Shakespeare’s Possibly Missing Skull, by Susan Jarvis Bryant The Society April 23, 2025 Poetry, Shakespeare 2 Comments . Bardic Bones Who dug the dust? Who didn’t spare the stones? Who churned the earth that festered with a curse? Who had the gall to judder bardic bones, To steal the skull from him who gilded verse? These rumours rouse a mirthless moorland scene Of cauldron-gathered hags of rasping song Abubble with the juice of newt, a spleen, A spider’s fang and lizard’s sticky tongue. Alas, poor Playwright! Such a ghastly blow Is apt to leave a fairy queen bereft. This ghoulish deed, it stoops Othello low With eyes of envy-green that boast of theft From consecrated soil in moon-soaked view— A tragic tale so dark, it must be true. Such dark and tragic tales are always true— Will’s shovelled shell has fired my Muse’s core, Now simmering with scenes of vibrant hue Ablaze with Lear’s portentous clifftop roar. Her dreams are wreathed in essence of the Swan Whisked from inkless rest and quill-free peace. Like Hamlet, she has pangs to ponder on— To be or not—to soldier on or cease? She summons words that burn with Tybalt’s rage, With Portia’s flair, and wit that smacks of Puck. She knows for wordsmiths all the world’s a page— It’s time rhapsodic rhyme and rhythm struck. I’m set to shuffle off my lyric lull— My Muse is in the thrall of Shakespeare’s skull. Poetic fate is shaped by Shakespeare’s skull— His dazzling orb has blessed phrenetic waves With sparkle bold enough to buff the dull Prosaic plod of soporific staves. I feel a surge of sorcery at play— A wizard’s spell has scorched my eager ear With seas of iambs on this magic day Awash with monster flourishes of cheer. Linguistic gifts that glister in my mind Are bright enough to blind Malvolio With yellow-stocking zest—the sunshine kind— To swell a hungry poet’s folio. My Muse knows very well who jarred those bones— She dug the dust and didn’t spare the stones. . Poet’s Note Shakespeare’s tombstone, located in Holy Trinity Church in Stratford-upon-Avon, bears the following inscription: Good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbear, To dig the dust enclosed here. Blest be the man that spares these stones, And cursed be he that moves my bones. A 19th-century story claimed that Shakespeare’s skull was stolen from his grave in the late 18th century. In 2016, a ground-penetrating radar scan of his grave suggested that the skull might be missing. The church has not allowed an excavation to confirm or disprove the theory. . . Susan Jarvis Bryant is a poet originally from the U.K., now living on the Gulf Coast of Texas. NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets. The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or commentary. ***Read Our Comments Policy Here*** 2 Responses Roy Eugene Peterson April 23, 2025 Susan, fantastic poetry with sublime words and phrases that stirred the imagination and thrilled my soul. Your visions and thoughts resound within my own skull with which I am certain no one will bother to separate from my “unarticulated” state. The words came in waves of pleasure that washed over me and demanded pouring over many times. I stand in awe of your skills and mastery of English of all kinds. Thank you for this special edifying treat that should be placed somewhere near Shakespeare’s grave as an homage and a tribute. Reply Mark Stellinga April 23, 2025 I’m betting big you’re one of Willie’s descendants, Susan :-), and one of the most talented! What a wonderfully original concept to pen on! If I thought I could manage a proper PhD-comment I’d give it a shot, but we all know better. All the same – you get a resounding A+ from me for this outstanding triplicate-sonnet, one of the very best pieces of yours I’ve enjoyed over the past few years. FLAWLESS! Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Δ This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Roy Eugene Peterson April 23, 2025 Susan, fantastic poetry with sublime words and phrases that stirred the imagination and thrilled my soul. Your visions and thoughts resound within my own skull with which I am certain no one will bother to separate from my “unarticulated” state. The words came in waves of pleasure that washed over me and demanded pouring over many times. I stand in awe of your skills and mastery of English of all kinds. Thank you for this special edifying treat that should be placed somewhere near Shakespeare’s grave as an homage and a tribute. Reply
Mark Stellinga April 23, 2025 I’m betting big you’re one of Willie’s descendants, Susan :-), and one of the most talented! What a wonderfully original concept to pen on! If I thought I could manage a proper PhD-comment I’d give it a shot, but we all know better. All the same – you get a resounding A+ from me for this outstanding triplicate-sonnet, one of the very best pieces of yours I’ve enjoyed over the past few years. FLAWLESS! Reply