A Shakespeare Primer for Those Who Must Deal with Parrots. . . .
Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth.
Thou froward clay-brained codpiece!
Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade.
Thou spleeny unchin-snouted popinjay!
[Thou] small grey coated gnat.
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
You are a shallow cowardly hind, and you lie.
[Thy] kiss is comfortless as frozen water to a starved snake.
[Thine] forward voice, now, is to speak well of [thine] friend; [thine] backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract.
Thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,
And howl'st to find it.
Thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove, or most magnanimous mouse.
Thou tottering rough-hewn canker-blossom!
Thou weedy fool-born flap-dragon!
Come, you are a tedious fool.
Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty
To make thy riches pleasant.
essentially a natural coward without instinct.
Many thanks to Pangloss
3 comments:
perfect for today's parrot, nanny kept kicking me off for bad language
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
and last night my computer crashed as I was posting to you here,sigh
~~~~~~~~~~
I wanted to tell the little story of poetry and baby. My editor friend was a classmate of mine in a night class called Existential Literature, and it is a special bond formed over midnight coffee and Sarte. We kept track of each other through our marriages and children as friends through the years, but I hadn't seen him in several and drove to his house in part just to prove to myself I remembered how to get there.
He had a hand bound copy of poetry he had written, that exists only in a 15 copy run so I felt priviledged to see poems that only family had seen. And one about fishing with his brother had an ink smear.Turns out his brother whom he had fished each spring with for 20 years had died, and I was correct as to what caused the smear.
Hence my poem to him that you posted. I wanted to turn him on to baby blog and am so appreciative that you posted that spontaneous work.
The rest of the story is that he called another old classmate from the literature course to tell him about the poem, and the friend is headed north fishing to his cabin with spare bedrooms. And so three poets will meet coming hundreds of miles seperate ways to share a lake, a campfire or two, and a poetry slam all because of you.
THANK YOU Julie Li for your poetry and baby blog and thank you puddleriver for being you.Have a safe trip south.Say Hi to Thankful,and best regards to Edwin.
Phil
Phil, I'd guessed about the tear stain. . . I'm so glad this has turned out so lovely for you, and am moved to tears just now. Thank you for telling me the rest of the story. And thank you for being you!
[Still can't believe we were in the same class at DeanFest I, and I still missed you!}
Have a GReeaATTT fishing trip! ♥s
And I'll convey your best regards to Edwin, who admires you mightily!
(And thank you, too, for baby puddle: may she live long and be your very best milker ever, plus be sweet tempered. . . )
Personally, this reminds me of on of Noam Chomsky's foul rantings.
Have a great day.
Post a Comment