January 16th, 2013

Holy Moley, who knew Not a Summers Day

I subscribe to something called 'A sonnet a day' It sends a Shakespeare sonnet to my inbox each day. That way I have a whole day to spend living with each poem. They seem to me to soak in better that way, and having it bright and shiny in my inbox means that i do not have to look in my book.

The last two poems have been about sex. I mean, everyone knows he wrote about sex (The man wrote about everything after all,)  But-- well, see for yourself.

The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action; and till action, lust
Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight,
Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
Mad in pursuit and in possession so;
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.




How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st,
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway'st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,
At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand!
To be so tickled, they would change their state
And situation with those dancing chips,
O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more blest than living lips.
Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.

I stand, amazed.  I had looked no further before than my own favorite, (you can guess, I bet, what that one is-- I gave it to Archie.)  And I just came back to  Shakespeare as a way of getting at Marlowe and Kyd. I assume much of their writing is lost, especially Kyd's.

But really you can roll arround in this guy for a lifetime.  (Picture me, a happy dog, with my feet in the air.)
You are su

More of Writing about writing instead of writing

I was in the kitchen doing things to some onions, and listening to my phone, this song came along, because I am old. It is a song that I have always loved. 

And I was thinking about Marlowe and Shakespeare, and even our dear more recent Navyboys. I was thinking about how languages change, certain words were not unknown before, but they sort of surface and get used a lot, and then go under again.

And, because I am silly this way, I started to think how much sense would this song make to Archie, to Kit Marlowe, to Shakespeare. And how much do I miss in my reading of things of the past?

Jump in and tell me what you all think.

Simon And Garfunkel America Lyrics

"Let us be lovers we'll marry our fortunes together"
"I've got some real estate here in my bag"
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pie
And we walked off to look for Americ

"Kathy," I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburg
"Michigan seems like a dream to me now"
It took me four days to hitchhike from Sagina
I've gone to look for Americ

Laughing on the bu
Playing games with the face
She said the man in the gabardine suit was a sp
I said "Be careful his bowtie is really a camera"

"Toss me a cigarette, I think there's one in my raincoat"
"We smoked the last one an hour ago"
So I looked at the scenery, she read her magazin
And the moon rose over an open fiel

"Kathy, I'm lost," I said, though I knew she was sleepin
I'm empty and aching and I don't know wh
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpik
They've all gone to look for Americ
All gone to look for Americ
All gone to look for America
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