by Mike Martin |
Categories:
political, racism, slavery,
You’ve heard of eeny meanie
How he died a fitting death
He had more fame, it seems to me
Than Shakespeare or Macbeth
Held accountable he was
After capture and a bounty
For the sins Stephen Duncan
Boss of Issaquena County
Too bad for mister miney mo
He’ll have to pay the price
Out to the Mississippi Bridge
We’d love to hang him twice
Held to dangle by the toe
So that everyone would know
Said the slaven to the hangman
If he hollers let him go
Copyright © Mike Martin 2015
by Robert Davidson |
Categories:
funny, happiness, love
Written for a couple who love Shakespeare and are getting married Sat. 02
Oct. 2010
This isn't a tragedy as in 'Macbeth',
'Hamlet' or 'King Lear':
Nor is it a 'Comedy of Errors'
to bring a heartfelt tear.
It isn't the giving of a pound of flesh,
as some might suspect.
Nay, it is 'As You Like It',
yeah, 'Romeo and Juliet!'
What can one say to this happy couple
as down the aisle they stride?
'The Taming of the Shrew' must come first
or oh, its woe betides!
'A Lover's Complaint' will surely follow
but its 'Much Ado About Nothing!'
'The Tempest' has lost and 'Measure for Measure'
this wedding is now forthcoming.
'All's Well That Ends Well'.
by Kaelynn Jensen |
Categories:
color, death, emotions, flower, sorrow, violence, war,
Drenched upon the battle field
Under silver weapons wield
Misdirection her only shield
The wildest of roses grew
Upon the blush of her pretty head
Stained with what men had bled
White petals puckered in brilliant red
The Whitest wild rose glimpsed hell
When the battle scene lie deaf
And not a soul to love was left
Moonlight filled the tears she wept
And the Rose pitied the man
Winter came, life kissed death
With the sweep of a snowy breath
Pale hands of the woman Macbeth
Washed White to red to grey
Well summer come and summer go
No eye that lays upon her knows
Her blushing color is to show
How red is to remember
by Olusegun Arowolo |
Categories:
death, depression, emotions,
Yet I still cry, as I ponder
Why death took her I still wonder
Hoping to see her flying high
As I ponder ,yet I still cry.
This sudden death,I hate to bear
Which put a stop to love we share
Making me confuse like Macbeth
I hate to bear,this sudden death.
This lovely star ,I so desire
Through which sickness and death conspire
Never thought she would journey far
I so desire ,this lovely star.
I feel the pain,just like you do
Yet you did not wait for your due
Your absence makes me go insane
Just like you do ,I feel the pain.
*Swap Quatrain*
by Tahera Mannan |
Categories:
art
If Hamlet had a mid-summer night’s dream
It would be a tragic error
A laughing Lady Macbeth would frivolous seem
And none would care to remember
Tragedy is more enjoyable than comedy
Said the good old rhymer
There is depth in tragedy
Believed the sombre writer
The purity of true love
Fascinating when tragic
Death is like a peaceful dove
Comedy is but fleeting magic
Most soulful are the songs that we sing in sadness
Comedy is nothing but a temporary madness
by Marcello Colasurdo |
Categories:
A feather of this rarity,
sent from heaven's trees.
Literature of such clarity,
flows from gentle breeze.
The pied raven sleeps,
no longer on this earth.
Volumes filled that keeps,
the mystery of it's mirth.
Romeo spoke of it true,
to love that was forbidden.
And if Othello only knew,
of how the cloth was hidden.
Verbiage from that quill,
a poet's heart did shine.
We savour the words still,
like our sweetly aged wine.
Castles have been painted,
with ink like black death.
Pages that were tainted,
from King Henry to Macbeth.
Now the poet has gone,
to another world unknown.
The blank pages have drawn,
his memories laid in stone.
by Hilo Poet |
Categories:
analogy, appreciation, meaningful, motivation, nature,
Surrounds cast fawning more pain and pleasure,
bring it on, union or naught, clocked watchers,
measures measure, pound for pound, face to face,
Curt or wordy, conscience be top-notchers,
as precious song of convenience, eeks breath.
Stage of a day's bliss follow edge to edge,
affair due course of day's light, naught Macbeth.
Fingered tip trace a fashioned grin, lips wedge
made verse presets rhythmically, whispers
to soft caressed, infant coos to gold.
A mime mimics, entertainment lifters,
puppy love hugs, sweethearts caress, gramps hold.
Be he the fourth wiseman of the Magi?
Ascends a moon, grays an eye-fools goodbyes.