It was Shakespeare, the bards birthday the other day and
coinciedntly the anniversary of his death.
Obviously he didnt die on the day he
was born because that would have made him a still born death and he wouldnt
have written all those plays. Anyway, i was inspired by all of the chatter of
Shaekespeare to introduce a new series of poetry workshops to this blog where I
explore the nature and form of classic types of poetry where i can help you to
imporve because i am an expert.
First some background information for the laymen,. William
Shakespear was a famous poet (like me) and playwrite who lived in the medievil
times when men wore tights, cod peieces and beards and when women werent
allowed to be in plays becaiuse Oliver Cromwell was in charge.
Oliver Cromwell writing a poem
Oliver Cromwell
was like the Taliban at that time and banned fun. Because of this William
Shakespear had to get boys to play the women rolls in his plays and sometimes
there is mistaken identity where people think boys are girls and girls are boys
and it all gets hilariously confusing but I forget the name of the play. (I do
now its not Romeo and Juliet though I think there is a comedy vicar in that one
like Derek Nimmo). This is where we got the idea for pantomimes in modern
times, and drag acts too.,
(He looks a bit like a Marge Simpson from history doesnt he?)
A lot of what we know now in language,
plays, writing and
art is down to Willim Shakespear, so much so that some people think he was lots
of different people. Some snobs want him to be someone posh from that time but
I dont know whats all thats about. It's a bit like all that stuff about a fifth
Beatle.
All of Shakespear's plays are written in rymes called
sonnets. These are a type of poem that have strict rules that you MUST OBEY or
they wont be a sonnet.
I am a free spirit as you know and dont normally write
like this. it is called form.
Here is teh structure of a sonnet.:
It has 12 lines to start with then another 2 at the end. the
rymes and beats go like go like this:
one two one two one two one two one two
egg pie egg pie egg pie egg pie egg pie
red blue red blue red blue red blue red blue
bee fly bee fly bee fly bee fly bee fly
moon cup moon cup moon cup moon cup moon cup
wind chime wind chime wind chime wind chime wind chime
Sonnet on the
fallen maid by Helene Smithee
Oh highway man thou doth turn mine girl eye
And wet mine mouth then dare I say more parts
that tremble as your black mare gallops by
whence you have taken your wants from mine heart
Bereft I weep into mine robes of hemp
my thoughts alighting on a distant star
and you a strutting cock like Martin Kemp
the actor that I saw in visions far
What magick is this future that I see?
a pock marked murk pollutes my crystal ball
whatever shall become of poor wench me?
now I collude and bow to Satan's call
this hole will not be mended with one stitch
For morrow doth see I
burnt as a witch.
Phew that was hard work i dont think I'll bother doing that
agin in a hurry. well done Shakespear He must have had a very patient mind and
a speedy quill to write reams and reams like that. I cant be bothered, It blocks my chi.
