Treasure Island

David SmithWhite

(270552 / Australia)

Bloody Bill


I blame it all on bloody Bill Shakespeare.
I blame it all on the plays of the Bard.
No counterfeit feelings are faked there.
True love, they teach, can be hard.

I blame it all on bloody Bill Shakespeare,
and the furious battles of yore.
The glory encrusted and caked there,
stain the pages of history with gore.

I could give you a pamphlet,
on the pride of Prince Hamlet,
and the bodies that litter the stage.
In his testosterone funk, this prototype punk,
junked the state, his family, the age.

I blame it all on bloody Bill Shakespeare.
I blame it all on plays like Othello.
The depiction of evil it makes there:
all green-eyed monsters are yellow!

I blame it all on bloody Bill Shakespeare.
On plays like A Winter's Tale.
The exile of loved ones forsaken there,
pay their tribute to the jealous male.

I can give you a journal, of Sonnets eternal,
of horizons receding, and the briefness of life.
You too can go crazy in pursuit of dark ladies,
and that handsome young man,
that might be a wife!

I blame it all on bloody Bill Shakespeare,
and the wisdom that marks the Fool.
On the hubris and folly of King Lear,
who was vain, mean-spirited, and cruel.

I blame it all on bloody Bill Shakespeare,
like a Timon that curses the world.
That suffers not one even break there,
and remains, at the end, unfulfilled.

I could give you a dossier, on Shylock and Portia,
and the fixed compound interest on flesh.
With the merchant's resurgence,
there's the moral detergent,
and the scour of satire and jest.

I blame it all on bloody Bill Shakespeare.
On plays like Richard the Third.
The knowing self-hatred displayed there,
resolving in murder absurd.

I blame it all on bloody Bill Shakespeare.
I blame it all on plays like Macbeth.
The fate of great kingdoms are staked there;
on domestic ambitions and death.

So why should it please ya, to see Julius Caesar,
a victim of noble betrayal?
With true friends like Brutus, to help execute us,
what other excuses to fail?

I blame it all on bloody Bill Shakespeare.
I blame it all on the plays of the Bard.
This pain in the heart, how it aches there;
one more star-crossed lover is scarred.

Submitted: Sunday, August 28, 2005

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Comments about this poem (Bloody Bill by David SmithWhite )

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  • Greenwolfe 1962 (6/1/2008 5:59:00 PM)

    This poem is just not 'nice', its brilliant. This thing could not have been writen by almost everybody I've read up to date. There may be those who don't sat that because when something is really, really good I've noticed a tendancy by some
    to play it down. Its as if, they don't want you to know how good it was because
    then you would think you were better than them. I see no problem in that.
    Because I know good stuff when I read it and I'm not afraid to say so. This was
    damn good. Hell, it was great! I see some even gave it less than a ten, to
    Hell with that. This is nothing but a 10. Pass it on.

    GW62 (Report) Reply

  • Joseph Daly (11/24/2005 5:36:00 PM)

    Whether you meant it or not, you illustrate why Shakespeare was so brilliant and why he still has resonance these days.

    I alweays though that without his insight Freud and Jung and the ir followers would not have established themselves.

    Great work mate! (Report) Reply

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