To be,
or not ‘not’ to be;
that is no question;
it is merely the saying
of the same thing…
in differing ways.
To not be,
or not to ‘not’ be;
is just confusing,
and aren’t we
already confused enough?
That is a question –
although it may,
or may not, be
a rhetorical one.
‘Shakespeare in Looe.’
The Bard did advance from Liskeard
in a sort of 9-days dance – a la Will Kemp – stopping off upon occasion to compare things to other things.
Nowadays, he would have caught the train; but, then, he preferred to walk upon his ‘legges two’
‘Shall I compare thee to a five-bar gate?
Which is a useful item, at any rate.’
and the like.
With him was his trusty sidekick, Ben – a comedy duo they claimed to be, that went under the name of ‘Will & Ben: Renaissance Men.
I say, I say, I say’, quothed Will, ‘Is this a dagger that I see before me?’
‘No.’ answered Ben, ‘ ‘tis The Globe.’
‘ ‘The’ Globe?’ queriéd Will, ‘My wooden O?’
‘No.’ answered Ben, again, ‘ ‘tis just a public house going by the name of…‘ (SFX dramatic chords)
‘… The Globe.’
Ah, well, all’s ale that ends, well, you know what I mean, dear Ben.’
‘More than most; but, all in that only a little, my liege, my fool.’
‘Don’t knock what thou doesn’t understand, Ben.’
‘Knock? Knock? Spake thus Ben, bemusédly.
‘Who’s there?’ responded Will.
‘Ben, my Lord-loon, like as well you know it.
‘Ben, my Lord-loon who?’ asked Will.
‘Jonson! How many times must I remind you?
‘Thrice a hundred, more if there is a Tuesday in the week.’
And thus, with much ado, they arrived in Looe
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #Cornwqll, #Looe, #poetry. #poem, #RenaissanceMen, #willandben, @Shakespeare
I had wood –
good wood,
it should be stated –
and felt the need
to created a wooden awning.
Yawning, from it being early
morning,
I decided to do it well,
lest I could be derided
for the amateur contrivance –
the neighbours would give me ‘hell-
o, what’s that then?’
To plan’s the thing
wherein I’ll catch the confidence
of the kingdom.
Shall I compare thee to a brewer’s dray?
Thou art not the sort to take that too well;
So, upon your face I shall not now dwell,
And be careful here what I deign to say,
Or shall not see the darling buds of May.
Shakespeare, as a lad,
looked up to his dad –
for his dad was much taller than he.
The Montagues fought the capulets,
two rowdy groups in doublets
and ‘Hose them down!’is what I’d cry,
if the fighting happened when I happened by.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #Couplets, #MontaguesCapulets, #poetry. #poem, #RomeoAndJuliet, @Shakespeare
Hamlet – The Musical
Not William Shakespeare’s ‘Hamlet’, but a play based upon the tiny village of HappyHome and its various occupants. These villagers are beset with the problem of having a village church and having to raise the money needed to keep the roof on top of its walls and the bell-tower on top of its roof.
Then one bright spark suggests that they could get rid of the church altogether, returning – after one-hundred years – HappyHome to the status of ‘hamlet’
Actus Primus, Scena Prima,,
A tempestuous noise of Thunder and Lightning heard, Enter a Ship-master, and a Temp.
Master: Boat-swaine.
Temp: He’s not at work, today – some malady or other, I expect – the Agency sent me – as a replacement Boatswaine.
Master: Good. Speake to th’Mariners: fall too’t, yarely, or we run our selves aground, bestirre, bestirre, Exit
Enter Mariners.
Temp. Good morning. I’m Mostyn, I’m from the Agency. As you can see, we are having a bit of trouble with the weather. So, the Captain has asked me to put forward his two-point plan, which is to; ‘bestirre, bestirre’ and, hopefully, by your doing so, we can get this craft through our current ‘difficult’ situation. Perhaps we can consider this a “team-building” exercise. Any questions?
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinando, Gonzalo, and others.
Temp: No? Okay. If you could just make a start, I think that the “paying” passengers would like a word or two with me.
And so it went.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #parody, #Pastiche, #poetry. #poem, #TheTempest, @Shakespeare
One day, on the Island.
“Shall we meander, Miranda?”
“Yes, let’s! When, father?”
“Straight ‘way, Miranda.”
“Oh, dad!”
And off they toddled, at once, upon their winding way.
