Showing posts with label Shakespeare Rocks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shakespeare Rocks. Show all posts

Monday, December 9, 2019

Death by Serpent

"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety."
Antony & Cleopatra, William Shaekspeare


Death of Cleopatra
Kerry O'Connor



Haunted by relics of bygone age,
slabs of stone, hand-hewn, a painted frieze against the wall

All that endeavour and detritus,
it is ground to a fine dust beneath the heel of time.

What were we to each other more than
spark to dry tinder? We consumed ourselves

Twin flames in the eyes of Ouroboros,
until we choked on the dismal ashes of defeat.

Now history has traced my eyes,
with black kohl, and placed two serpents in my hands.

I see cracks in mortal foundations
but know not how to make order out of anarchy.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This poem began as a companion piece to my illustration of Cleopatra, but was quite hastily written, without much thought for form or meter. Sanaa's last prompt in The Imaginary Garden, to write poetry in the Landay form, sent me back to my poem, which I restructured using the guidelines. I much prefer this version and shall return to the form again because it is very user friendly.

My original free verse poem:


I am haunted by relics
of a bygone age
slabs of stone, hand-hewn,
painted frieze against a wall,
all that endeavour
and the detritus it is ground to
beneath the heel of time.
What were we to each other
more than spark to dry tinder?
Twin flames in the eyes of Ouroboros,
we consumed ourselves
until we choked on the ashes of defeat.
Now history will trace kohl around my eyes,
place serpents in my hands.
I see cracks in mortal foundations
but know not how to mend.



Historical Blurb

Cleopatra VII was the last Pharaoh of the Ptolemaic Dynasty, 69 - 30 BCE.
Lover of both Julius Caesar and Mark Antony, whom she married in 32 BCE, Cleopatra was a major influence on world affairs during her lifetime. As joint rulers of Egypt, they were defeated at the Battle of Actium, by Octavian. Mark Antony fell upon his sword. When Cleopatra learnt that Octavian planned to lead her in triumphal march through the streets of Rome, she committed suicide rather than surrender, traditionally by asps smuggled into her chamber in a basket of figs.


Wednesday, December 4, 2019

A Skylover Wordlist

Brief Candle


“Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow”
Macbeth, William Shakespeare.


Death of Lady Macbeth
Kerry O'Connor
@skyloverpoetry



Never was night so stripped
of its own illusions,
never the lambent stars
such needle points of ice,
as now in this fatal hour
past indecision.
This is no false step
I take upon the parapet
but perhaps I am a curiosity to you:
in my full and naked power,
nothing left to lose.
The horizon is at my feet.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This poem is written using words from my Skylover Wordlist for December.


#skyloverwordlist

If anyone would like to join me in writing poetry from this list of words, and would like me to read and comment on their post, please paste the link to the post in the comments below or you can tag me on Instagram.








Monday, December 2, 2019

Death of Ophelia

Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be.
Ophelia in Hamlet by William Shakespeare


Death of Ophelia
Kerry O'Connor
@skyloverpoetry

You believe you know all the essential things,
like a name, how long it has been since the first day;

Yes, you may know where you are, and how
you arrived at the shore, recognize even, the divide

But, you do not know the water’s depth;
you find yourself too cold to cross the river.

You do not understand how my soul streams
from the unseen world of infinite dreams

Drowning you in a vision of what may be,
what has already been and what exists now, always.



A poem, quote and illustration for Rommy's Challenge in The Imaginary Garden.

Tuesday, June 11, 2019

Erasure Poetry

A little experiment in blockout poetry.
Please scroll down if you want to read the text written out.

Erasure #1
The Medieval Talisman



@skyloverpoetry


Erasure #2
The Astrological Chart



@skyloverpoetry


Erasure #3
The Sun in Splendour



@skyloverpoetry








#1

I did love him
My storm of heart
I saw in his mind
And my soul
I left behind.
Love
Let me go.
I beg with heat
To be free

*******

Unfolding
recklessness in my
innermost nature
and witness
my own true
companionship


#2

This is true:
My offending speech had,
Till now,
Wasted little of battle.
Therefore I,
In speaking for
Your love, drugs, charms
And magic, am bold
To fall in love,
In spite of everything.


#3

Talk you of heaven?
With all my heart
I hope you know thy sins
Are loves that gnaw you
for loving passion
Yet I hope they point at Peace.
Be still.
I will love thee.


Wednesday, April 24, 2019

More Natural ~ Sonnet 43

Loving me with my shoes off 
means loving my long brown legs 
Anne Sexton



What could be more natural
                                     than the bend of my knee
                    And the glide of your palm
                                     from my ankle to tender thigh?

And lips that pray to flesh
                                     as a thing of divinity?
                My throat was made
                                    for the simple bliss of a sigh,

Your eyes, for the sole purpose
                                    of my gracious nudity.
                 For the pulse beneath my skin
                                   and the rivers that run within.

Oh, Love, that you may know my nature thus!
That I may know the wonder of this perfect trust.



Day 24 ~ A Shakespearean Sonnet

Sherry is our host in The Imaginary Garden today, asking us to describe a Natural Wonder.


Tuesday, April 23, 2019

There is no one but you ~ Sonnet 42

Good night, good rest. Ah! neither be my share; 
She bade good night, that kept my rest away 
William Shakespeare



There is no one but you:
these are the deserted hours
of night’s close chambers
where the past cannot find you

and the dread of tomorrow
slides into the abyss
of Charon’s tomb
only you, waiting on the brink

between loneliness and sleep,
waiting for my touch
upon your bare skin
to untangle the knots of your body.

Like a fragment of a dream made whole,
I will love you in the darkness of soul.


Day 23 and Day 24: SHAKESPEARE ~ I am commemorating the birth and death of the bard with a sonnet.

Sanaa is our host in The Imaginary Garden today, asking us to share Ghost Story.