Monday, November 21, 2011

#1PoetryAssignment-Inching Closer to the Assumed Truth



Stepping across the unreal river
grass has never made this home
time will pass and grow to falter
child's play is still anew

What can bring this to a norm
to make this not the same
not for pageant or for fair
just to let then go

Unknown faces make their way
through realized dreams they had.
seems still waiting for the time
making it unfold

Hurry now as time will fade
now is in a fresh new sight
finding only shelter will
increase their fame

Making shadows on the wall
imagine they can speak
for as you know they are to you
more real than the river

If time will falter
and dreams be made
hope will reach there soon
but until now they never knew
its just a game to play

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Soliloquoy #2. Act 1, scene 5

The raven himself is hoarse  
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan 40 
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits 
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full  
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood;  
Stop up the access and passage to remorse, 
The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,  
Wherever in your sightless substances 50 
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, 
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, 
 That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,  
 Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,  
 To cry 'Hold, hold!'
 
 
Even the birds are sore and croak because they know Duncan is going to die in my castle. Some spirits and fill me with cruelty I need to be able to kill the king. Make me tough, stop myself from feeling remorse and guilt. That nature's guilt can not make me not want to do what I intend or put guilt between the murder and the consequences.  Murdering ministers, make my woman breast milk parasitic. You wait for mischief. I wait for night, make my murder's knife not see what it murders or let heaven look at what I do and tell me to stop.