Shakespeare's Bloomers

Shakespeare's rightly famous
For his brilliant plays
But what clothes did he wear
Back in Tudor days?

Was the Bard a dandy
Or one of the scruffs?
In the cold of winter
Did he favour muffs?

Was his choice a codpiece
And a matching hat?
Did it look an odd piece
Sticking out like that?

Was he clad in bloomers
Through Love's Labours Lost
And buy them at Primark
To reduce the cost?

Did he don pyjamas
Or sleep in the raw?
We know Shakespeare's dramas,
Not what togs he wore.


©

Thought I'd start the week on a lighter note Shakespeare's Bloomers is from the history section of the forthcoming book. Generally, any country's history is drenched in blood - executions, wars etc. So I've lightened the load of Britain's story with a few humerous ditties

Another honest and enjoyable poem Izzy Would the penultimate line flow better as:

I've made peace, I'm no fraud or sham

Hope you don't mind the suggestion

Ah perhaps, yes. Thank you

No problemo Izzy

Thanks Musty

bravo

Loss

I hated you for my loss of control.
Your betrayal winded me,
left me gasping.
As I toppled back onto my script
I blamed you,
and cursed you
as I clawed up the deep splintered words
to hurl into your face.

But you hadn’t made me angry.
(I wish I could say you had)
I chose this relief route to anger
to slap all the carefully stored and labelled resentments
flat square into your face.


You bring it back to me tonight
as you hug me for farewell.
You don’t owe me anything,
you’re not a debt to be run up,
an account to demand a return.
You’re a loving, caring individual
who just happens to bear my name.
Yes, I feel a sadness as real as your leaving
but I recognise the love that will stretch for eternity,
demanding and unconditional.


You walk through that door
As I did a generation before.

Great poem Scottie Full of pain and I liked the twist of adding a rhyme at the end.

Ta Sandy

Apologies for my absence - I've been pretty busy and found it difficult to get down to the library. Hopefully I'll be able to post some material this week. I see the old place has been fairly quiet anyway

Online friends
Dots on a screen
Some so nice, others so mean
Imaginary or not
Best friends can be a bot.
About as real as the green dude
Pixels can put me in a blue mood

Hi Musty, good to be busy sometimes.

Hey folks where've you been
groovy cool and on the scene

Harold's Eye, 1066

One fatal day at Hastings
We lost the Royal bling;
The pasting of all pastings
When Harold was our King.

A well-trained army aided
The Conqueror's advance,
Some asked when they invaded
Who are this mob from France?

'Come on men!' Harold bristled,
Said he 'It's do or die'
Just as an arrow whistled
And caught him in the eye.

So France enslaved our venue
And William became King
But frogs' legs on the menu
Were never quite our thing.

With Agincourt forgotten
Things went from bad to worse,
If that makes you feel rotten,
Recall this little verse:

Admire the English long bow,
At Hastings do not cry,
Just have a pint of Strongbow
And drink to Harold's eye.


©

Nice one Zombie - luckily, this thread seems to attract the nice ones


Ey oop Sandy Circumstances have stopped me getting here, but normal service has now been resumed

The good news is that the book's progressing well I managed to piece together an epic poem about Henry VIII recently. I had to get the history books out for that one, just to confirm stuff. The Tudor section of the book has to be one of the goriest

Hi Musty, good to see you back on the page, I have missed you

Truth

A question to ask as may be before
what is two divided by love
as is the answer of truth

I just came up with this - I had something else in mind I think but the first lines, that originally came to mind, escaped me. I know my material is all very similar and what-not but anyway, it is what it is.

Ever Wondered? by IzzyS

Have you ever wondered,
that which escapes us - we held captive
by our own selves? hostages of our own making,
restricted by self belief,
criticisms dictated by thoughts alone -
perfectionism provides inaccessible goals,
blinkering us to our true potential.
If only we saw ourselves for who we could be,
not that which we struggle to do,
not that which makes us anxious,
everyone can excel in their own way,
if only we could see what others do,
no more scolding, more belief is the key
then perhaps we may realise,
what could be,
if only.

I like this. 'hostages of our own making' that indeed is what we all are.

Thanks yeah I thought that was a clever (poignant?) line. I get a bit depressed when people (like a friend recently) say that I'm very intelligent and capable of much more than I do. Ah well.

When I Have Gone

When I have gone to a place in the light
Do not let sorrow weigh too much at night,
Think of the innocent summers of joy
And how a girl fell in love with a boy.

Picture our past and the good moments when
Smiles replaced frowns as they should do, and then
Treasure the kindness and laughter that blessed;
Those were the times that meant more than the rest.

When I have gone and it seems hard to try,
Read the old rhymes again and should you cry
Know I'm consoled by the poetry too,
I left my dreams behind, written for you.


©

Ta Sandy I enjoyed Truth - great write

I really enjoyed this one Izzy I believe we only use a small percentage of our minds - many in the world are so convinced their way is the right way; hence the mess many nations are in.

An interesting and thought-provoking poem.

Thanks Musty, how are you today?

I can't look at you seriously, when you do that kitty face

Waiting for the bus

Waiting for the bus that never comes
does this bus stop here says the man
should be here soon says the lady
look at that sign says the child
the child is right says the passer by
the bus isn't going this way today
what will we do say them all
walk with me says the walking man

Yes, stubbornness can be potentially quite damaging. Thank you - im flattered you like it