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My Hamlet (Part I of II)
| Teen Poetry #2 |
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My Hamlet (Part I of II) |
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Master Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867Boston, MA 
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I The pen would tremble in my hand The fervent ink would flow in prime, To start the story with no end-- An ageless tale told in rhyme. The ever-young and graceful Hamlet, Preserved in ink, upon a tablet, Shall never fade nor ever rust. A poet’s breath shall sweep the dust And make anew what was forgotten. Which shall return like any season. Restoring life in words of reason, It will complete what was begotten And preaching loudly from the page, It will awake the silent age. II Thus we begin, let’s take a glimpse, Somewhere in Denmark, long ago-- Young Hamlet lived inside his dreams, And trusted visions that he saw. The throne was his and so was glory And this he knew. Without a worry, He eagerly looked to that day When he’d be king. The prince was gay Just knowing that he had control. He placed himself above his friends, The world was lying in his hands-- In every game they played. His soul Was branded thus by destined fate. The role was his and Hamlet played! III He mimicked time upon his face, He craved adventure, hungered trouble-- Just like the rest, despised disgrace And fell in love, for it was common. He loved to hunt, enjoyed the thrill, Always the first to get the kill, With passion, lacking guilt and shame, He finished off the wounded game And feasted on the bleeding beast. Was always proud of his feat, All dinner bragged about his deed, About his strength, and was not pleased— Never received full satisfaction-- Until he’d get a kind reaction. IV His love was rare and so unique That many viewed it as deceiving. Effected to affection’s peak, He freely spoke about his feelings. Ophelia, he loved you dearly! At night he dreamt of you. Sincerely, He wrote to you about his love, -- You never trusted him enough And doubting his faultless will, Mislead your heart. Your heart-- Not fooled, knew from the start That he was pure. He loved you still! Demanding strongly, Hamlet yearned To have you love him in return. V Then, sorrow struck him with a blow-- So suddenly, old Hamlet died Our Prince, -- he buried sadness slow And by the tomb he moaned and cried. Sad hours dragged. Clock’s heavy hands Would close the casket, tie loose ends And bury pain. Yet grief remained, And moved by feelings that he gained. Our hero lost all sleep. No longer Were his dreams as bright and clear. Yet, since that moment, not a tear He shed, but grew much stronger. His weary face showed no remorse, The world was falling on its course. VI The sun was shinning and the weather Was pleasant and the grass was growing. And all was living—all that mattered! And all was blossoming, not knowing That such a tragedy took place. The children’s eyes sincerely gazed As flowers bloomed and all seemed just! The world was moving as it must. And Hamlet picked up by this spirit Thought not about his father’s death All was alive and nature’s breath Blew on his face and he would hear it. And bringing Hamlet back to life The nature with excitement thrived. VII Abruptly, calmness turned to rage-- Prince Hamlet read the wicked notice, The Queen, his mother, was engaged To shortly marry Uncle Claudus. Too sudden! -- Not a month yet passed Since king deceased, and she would cast Her sight upon another man. A curse Indeed, for such a deed is worse Than mortal sin and for our Prince The past would slowly come to vanish. He felt abandoned, sunk in anguish. And cursed his fate. And ever since His father’s death, could not be reached-- He lost his touch and lacked his speech. VIII While held imprisoned in his castle, Watched closely by the hungry eyes-- He searched for truth, and in that hassle, He found nothing but disguise. Pure vengeance grew in Hamlet’s heart He, with this notion could not part, But stood against it. All was blurry! Some say-- he left his nest too early, And others-- that he had no nest. To helplessly see dreams grow molded, Or be delighted blindfolded? -- Who is to judge what is the best? Thus Hamlet watched all he adored Become offensive and abhorred. IX One night, his lengthy contemplation Was shortened greatly by his servants. The words they spoke aroused sensations And gave his will a whole new purpose. He followed them and he was stunned! -- Appeared a phantom and a bond Was formed. The sun would rise, And melt the vision in his eyes And all was still before his sight. And all was quiet, all was calm. Just like the sky before the storm, All seemed so trite, but in that night Eternally, three fates have crossed-- The son, the father and the ghost. X Their will was simple: to avenge-- Bring Justice forth to do her part! Our Hamlet, yearned to get revenge, And yet remain true in his heart. But, was he sure of his assumption? He re-examined his presumption And found no alibi, no cause. Did he believe his father’s ghost? Was it the Devil? Who could know? These questions, yet to be contested, Remained a burden and unanswered Would stress our hero more and more. A plot was plotted for pure eyes To catch the killer by surprise. XI He asked himself in deep depression, “To be or not?” and in his voice, He sought the answer. In confession He realized -- he had no choice. “To be... but how?” he’d often ponder But found no answer in his wonder Other that “be.” In contemplation, He’d seek a godly revelation, But nothing came. Enslaved in grief, He dreamt that all was quite well And yet he couldn’t brake the spell Which filled his thoughts. And brief Were nights, long were the days, Which he would spend in search of space. XII As long as conscience plays her role, You are alive, my cherished reader, -- If nothing can disturb your soul, Then you’ve deceased and neither Love nor breath can bring you back. You’re always judged by what you lack, Not what you have. Don’t waste A single breath in rapid haste, But drink love’s potion-- magic brew, And breathe to love and strive to live, To sense the pain, to feel the grief-- This above all: to self be true! Enough of morals! I’m excited-- A play is staged and we’re invited! |
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| © Copyright 2000 Andrey Kneller - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Tina TT Junior Member
since 1999-11-01
Posts 45Victoria, Australia |
Great!! You're very brave to try to re-tell Shakespeare, but a pretty good job  ~What if you slept? What if, in your sleep, you dreamed? And in your dream, you went to heaven and there plucked a strange and beautiful flower? And what if, when you awoke, you had that flower in your hand? Aye, what then?~ |
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Master Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867Boston, MA |
Thank you Tina! Glad you liked it! |
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Master Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867Boston, MA |
Thank you Tina! Glad you liked it! |
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