Happy Birthday to the Bard

Hello Blogosphere!! Welcome to another instance of I should have posted this yesterday.

To provide a little context to this post, I love writing in iambic pentameter. I'm a terrible poet, (though it doesn't stop me from trying) but I have a fascination with this form of verse. Perhaps it is simply because it was Shakespeare's preferred style, but I believe there's something beyond that. I love the way it reads and the way it sounds when read out loud. How at first glance it would look like normal prose or dialogue, but there's a distinct undercurrent of rhythm beneath the words. I love it.
  So, I write a lot of it. And probably not well at all.
So last night, (being Shakespeare's 450th birthday anniversary) I was thinking about the way I write it and the feeble way in which writers can attempt to emulate Shakespeare, but are always sure to fail quite miserably. It kind of made me laugh, because I think we can get so caught up in imitating an author or a distinct style, that we lose all originality that was ever ours. So this is what came out of it, a humble attempt to make fun of myself. Again.



[Richard enters]
Methinks I am in pity borne this day,
For such is the life of a person of verse as this
The birth of the Bard was on this day last year
Giving, of course, and taking a few centuries.
And there's many a thing our Will hath done right well,
But worst is the inspiration to intolerable poets
For they think of you as from a humble birth,
And it pleases them to compare themselves, oh mirth!
With the very thought that I spout words as these right now,
I can hope that soon it will be my turn to bow out.
For the stupid writer, unlike yourself, has limits,
And can only for so long dish out these phrases per minute
Therefore, following practice of unpracticed pen and tongue,
It is my turn to take my leave, Sir Will
And though it is but paltry words I give,
I hope them to be homage to a life well lived.  [Exeunt.]

Happy birthday, William Shakespeare!!x)


~Margaret