Saturday, August 23, 2014

With Apologies to Shakespeare and Hamlet (Act 1, Scene 2).

Is this a blank page which I see before me,
The blog thought toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To writing as to sight? Or art thou but
A blogpost of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the late-night pressèd brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I write.
Thou deceived me the way that I was going,
With such inspiration I was to use.
Mine blog is made the fool o' th' other ones done,
Or else worth all the rest. I see thee still,
And on thy screen and laptop gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There’s no blog here.
It is the bloody press to write which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half-world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtained sleep. Witchcraft celebrates
Pale god Poe’s offerings, and withered murder,
Alarmed by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl’s his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With deadline’s ravishing strides, towards some design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my words, which way they speak, for fear
my very stories prate of my runamuck,
And take the present offer from the time,
Which now sits on me. Whiles I write, MIE lives.
Words to the heat of reads too bold breath gives.



  1. while writers block becalms the creative brain
    the Saturday blog remains the same
    the wit and wisdom that is Jeff's domain
    just a little more out there, a tad more insane....

    1. Caro, I appreciate the professional diagnosis--and big time laugh--but you left me wondering what I need to do to progress from "a tad" to "a wee bit" on the Ramsay Scale of Insanity.

  2. Holy Bill, Jeffman! I feel so much more enlightened, educated, LITERATE! As though I'd been run through the wringer of a 1920s washing machine and then squirted from the colon of a diarrhetic mastadon. I'm not quite sure what I just read, but my eyes feel well abused! I feel that my consciousness has been elevated to the point that I'm light-headed. (At least I hope I'm not light-headed from a lack of internal mass...)

    1. I just returned from a lovely Greek Orthodox's run since 6PM and now it's 2AM with the party likely running until dawn. In other words, I know of what you speak when you say "light headed," but you're on your own, dear friend, with joyriding through a mastodon's colon. I've never had the experience thank you very much, though I have had various aspects of my own mastodonimity in a wringer from time to time.

  3. Well it is clear your poetry conference on Tinos had a lasting effect. :))

    1. Sure did, Barbara, I had to translate everything I wrote from Greek! :)

  4. What would I do without my Saturday Siger fix" And Everett's commentary?

    1. Probably live a sane and happy life. :) :Thanks, Lil.