So much is said by
Magnolias climbing , striving
Into April skies
So much is said by
Magnolias climbing , striving
Into April skies
A trusted familiar, reflected still eyes
Luxurious elegant free
“I hold strict conditions, but YOU, gentle human
are certainly worthy of me.”
Loyal, faithful, tenacious,
He teaches the meaning of friend.
“I hold no conditions, for YOU are my world,
steadfast and true till the end.”
Rain shatters deep earth
Roots burst yellow perfection
Long awaited blooms
Arabesque before the sun
April healing winter’s cold
** Note: Inspired by T.S. Eliot’s ‘The Wasteland’.
“Lord, what fools these mortals be!” – A Midsummer Night’s Dream
No one knows the exact actual date of Shakespeare’s birth. We do, however, know through church records that he was baptized on April 26th, 1564. It was customary back then to baptize babies within three days of their birth. (This was done so they wouldn’t end up in Limbo, which was NOT, btw, a dance — but rather a state of suspension in which one’s soul was not fit for Heaven, yet not bad enough for Hell. It all had to do with that pesky original sin, which could be expunged with baptism.) We also know, through death records, that Shakespeare passed away on April 23rd, 1616 at the ripe old age of 52. (This reportedly following a drinking binge with Ben Johnson and some theater buddies, come down to Stratford for some merry making. Maybe celebrating his birthday!) Imagination and poetic license allow us to say, within reason, that Shakespeare’s birth date and death date both fall on April 23rd.
Therefore, TODAY marks the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death, and the 452nd anniversary of his birth. Yay Will!
In honor of my all time favorite writer, I would like to submit a compilation of some of his most profound quotes. I mean, he covered everything — birth, death, love, sex, men, women, music, good, evil, humanity itself. It’s worth looking into – maybe even worth considering as part of our own life philosophies. Let me know what you think!
“Sigh no more, ladies, sigh nor more;
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.” – Much Ado About Nothing
Ah, yes, pretty maids. Be not bothered by those jack-a-nape rogues you call boyfriends who refuse commitment and wedding rings, all the while drooling over the latest porn posts. Listen to the immortal Bard. ‘Constant to one thing never.’ What did you expect? Instead best get your career in track, use birth control and invest in a good 401 k.
“Thou know’st the first time that we smell the air we wawl and cry. When we are born we cry, that we are come to this great state of fools.” – King Lear
Well, after all now. We know this planet earth is a rather silly place, don’t we? Of course little babies coming in here are gong to be upset. Especially considering a lot of them now are Indigos and Crystal children from the constellation Sirius and such outermost regions. The cradle-grave journey is a short stay, so heed the Bard’s advice and know this is but a state of fools.
“To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.” – Hamlet
As Abe Lincoln once said, ‘You can’t please all of the people all of the time.’ So you may as well please yourself. They are going to criticize you anyway, so heed this great seed of wisdom from the Shakes and be your own original self at all times.
“Well, if Fortune be a woman, she’s a good wench for this gear.” – The Merchant of Venice
Need we say more? Just don’t mess with any swashbuckling wenches 🙂
“By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.” – Macbeth
And watch out for them wicked witches! They just might make some dire predictions that may or may not come true, depending upon your own ambition.
“Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” – Macbeth
As I mentioned before, it’s a short stay here on planet earth, begging the immortal question,’What’s the point?’
“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” – Hamlet
Everyone knows this. Hasten not to make those moral judgments, ye foolish mortals, for one man’s trash is another’s treasure. If you don’t believe me just check out ebay 🙂 It is the thinking that makes it so.
If music be the food of love…
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness
starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping towards poles of Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,
Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind.
ABOUT GINSBERG and HOWL: Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) was a Beat Generation icon who hung out with his pals Jack Kerouac, Neal Cassady and William Burroughs – jazz grooving, social misfits who often went On The Road as they tried to piece life together in the shattered aftermath of WWII. They felt, in fact, ‘beat’.
Ginsberg’s poem Howl drew a lot of attention when, in 1957, US officials decided it was obscene, illegal, and could not be printed nor distributed in this country. (You saw that line about cock and endless balls, right?)
Keep in mind, the US was a very uptight place back then. They basically tolerated nothing. Homosexuality was considered a mental illness. Drug abuse was unheard of, or at least unmentionable in the polite circles of 1950’s Americana. ‘Leave it To Beaver’ was considered the ideal of family life. (Funny, eh? Leave it to Beaver? Could have been a very empowering statement of female sexuality 🙂 But I digress.)
Ironically, Ginsberg himself was out of the country at the time his poem went under scrutiny. He never suffered backlash for the obscenity charges, but Lawrence Ferlinghetti, owner of City Lights book store in San Francisco, was arrested and stood trial. Amazingly, Ferlinghetti won! Viva la free press! California Judge Clayton Horn decided that the poem was not obscene, and it was, in fact of “redeeming social importance”. Well now 🙂
I am not including the entire poem because it goes on for like 30 pages. Read the whole thing here: http://www.wussu.com/poems/agh.htm
I love the ending lines! Allegedly they are addressed to one Carl Solomon, a friend of Ginsberg’s whom he met while receiving electric shock treatment in a mental institution.
I’m with you in Rockland
where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls’ airplanes roaring over the roof they’ve come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls collapse O skinny legions run outside O starry-spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory forget your underwear we’re free
I’m with you in Rockland
in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night
Will you follow me Into these diamond skies? Breathing air of lilac as the Beltane fires rise
Will you follow me Into this thunder clap? April rain ensuing and the Aries sun entrapped
Will you take a look Into this glint of spring? Mushrooms sprouting rampant in a Faery circle ring
But if you follow me Things will never be the same. Whole soul transformations and You’ll scarce know whence you came.
If take this route You’ll be vapid and confused. Journey down a rabbit’s hole Be challenged and abused.
Opening your mind You’ll be senseless and distraught Garrulous and punchy and Forget all you’ve been taught.
If you dare the risk Life has never been so true A mesh of flesh and color like An artist palette hue.
If you share this path Love will show you all its parts Connected and perfected in The opening of hearts.
They cast spells But not the kind you think
No newt eye broomstick devil whore No infanticide and black cat lore
No Sabbath dancing midnight hags Decrepit women clad in rags
But they Celebrate henbane
Tread through roads of moss and nettle Passing sunsets of magenta
Bell and bless and full fledged wombs Dusty flutter of the broom
They banish Harm In steadfast craft, candle light of white
Flesh enmeshed in weft and weave Silent spells of night.
“Bringing the world closer through peace, harmony, and understanding of the wise craft.”