When I was Montague and you were Capulet
perhaps I slew you in a feudal brawl
and now to make amends, for you I fall,
or you were Montague and I the Capulet,
as star crossed lovers
died without fulfilling all.
Our memories are wiped at birth,
that freshly we may tread life’s path
or later when with scorn an adult laughs
at our ‘pretended’ recall of the past.
And so the vernal impulse sparked in us
to right the wrongs of ages gone
anew draws us to each, the opportune
to live and let love flow in heavens view.
20 comments:
I feel a little ignorant asking about this but is this yours? It is very moving. When did you write this?
Yes. Sometime last month. Before Shakespeare's birthday, anyway. Effects of Spring, no doubt.
So is it coming to the group? Slightly archaic language. Indended, no doubt, which is why I wondered if it was yours. I like the Shakespeare's reference but wonder if it needs to sound like him.
Well, it would have done weeks ago, but you know how it goes, forget to make copies, leave it behind, no time to read it, prefer a shorter one to get it in...Archaic? Not intended to, except the 'slew' and that was a conscious choice with MontaGUE and YOU and FEUdal, but no archaic terms there... or phrases... how so, mistress?
Yes, I know what you mean. I may just slide into the old style when the subject inspires in a certain way... as when saying something that has a flavour of London one might use a cockney accent. Awright, guv? Anyway, I was invoking times past and coming back to the present. The last lines are flavoured with the past but in a way are spoken from a timeless viewpoint. Letting love flow has always been the mission, but we have found ways of blocking it.
The Shakespeare thing was really to bring some element of universality, and a situation that was tragic from many points of view that could have been experienced in past lives in any way, as a member of either sex, killing, being killed, loving, dying for love, an unfinished business between two souls travelling through time, learning to live and love. It did not have to be Shakespeare, but it is known and accessible.
I think (remember English is not my first language, so I may well be wrong) it sounds archaic not because of words used but the form of the poem. This is not a criticism (as the effect is impressive) but a question whether it was intended. Clearly it was. I agree with you about universality, and like the Capulets and the Montagues there. And do take your point about the unfinished business. Love, such a tricky thing.
When this stuff pours out, form is the last thing on my mind.
Tricky when not unconditiomal.
or unrequited
(Sigh)
Uncooked?
The poem? Very cooked. Well done even. Love, on the other hand, I like it raw and cooked.
The nutrition and enzymes of sprouted seeds and the /al dente/ of freshly cooked broccoli or carrots? (Licks lips.)
Or are we back to cabbage stalks?
Anything. There's little that cannot be eaten raw. Enjoyed bits of raw celeriac in my salad today (red kidney bean, the only cooked veg). Bought three cabbages in Sainsbury's, planning to make fresh cabage salads this week. Oh! and yes, had devoured some raw broccoli stalks before the florettes got steamed.
You seem to have abandoned our cooking tips thread. Come back! Just had home made ratatouille, with juicy mushrooms and succulent onions... Cabbages getting impatient...
I am losing touch with all these varied threads. It needs an expert needlewoman to weave them into coherence. Alas, I multitask erratically, if at all. Perhaps in need of a good meal! Unkind of you to taunt me with mouthwatering dishes...
I am afraid you have created this (blog) and it has taken a life of its own. Like any creation. Sorry if unkind. I guess the meal I promissed needs to happen sooner than later.
Nay, I but jest regarding unkindness. I am out too much - no time to get a meal. Then all this weaving. How do you do it and cook too? I am getting used to fewer meals. Could help reduce my problems with open waist buttons...
Ah now I understand the food references. Now I am in transit it is nice to eat when I want to and to have a fridge of lovely salad stuff and lentils and chick peas. How mundane is this! Have some lovely homemade curried sweet potato and red lentil soup too.
I like the poem too! It is just as well you are blogging your work since we never seem to get to it in class.
It all started with the question whether the poem was raw or cooked. The point is that (sometimes) raw is just as good as cooked.
Thanks Debbie. When I get my inks I will be back in evidence in the Crypt, if not on Facebook.
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