April is National Poetry Month
For the first time in many years I will be reading some poetry. It is definitely out of my comfort zone, but I am willing to give it a try. So, in honor of National Poetry Month, I will be reading The Day the World Ends: Poems by Ethan Coen. Anyone else willing to give some poetry a chance?
To get you more in the mood...
Serena of Savvy Verse & Wit is once again hosting a Blog Tour to celebrate. So be sure to head on over and check out the schedule to follow along. Lots of fun poetry things going on around the blogosphere this month.
Happy Poetry Reading!
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I am looking forward to reading your posts. Glad I stopped by.
ReplyDeleteGlad you stopped by, too. :)
DeleteThanks so much for participating. I cannot wait to see what you think. I've changed the title to your link on the NPM tour linky
ReplyDeleteThanks, Serena!
DeleteShakespeare - Marin Sorescu
ReplyDeleteShakespeare created the world in seven days.
On the first say he made the heavens, the mountains,
and the abyss of the soul.
On the second day he made rivers, seas, oceans
And all the other feelings—
Giving them to Hamlet, Julius Caesar, Mark Antony,
Cleopatra and Ophelia,
Othello and the rest, to master them, and their descendants
For evermore.
On the third day he brought the people together
And taught them about taste
The taste of happiness, of love, of despair
The taste of jealousy, of glory, and still more tastes
Until they went through them all.
Then some latecomers arrived.
The creator patted them sadly on the head
Explaining the remaining roles were for
Literary critics
To challenge his good works.
The fourth and fifth days he kept clear for laughs
Clearing way for clowns
Turning somersaults,
And leaving the kings, emperors,
And other poor wretches to their fun.
The sixth day he reserved for administrative tasks:
He let loose a tempest
And taught King Lear
To wear a crown of straw.
Some spare parts remained from the world’s creation
And so he made Richard III.
On the seventh day he looked about for something to do.
Theatre directors had plastered the land with posters
And Shakespeare decided after all his hard work
He deserved to see a show. but first,
tired down to the bone
He went off to die a little.