Shakespeare Poem

 

To ride on the curled clouds, rather like a delicate dream.

To dive into the savage fire, drowning.

These are torment devils I have suffered.

Burst thy wind, assist thy storm, point the tempest.

We run ourselves aground stained with grief by moonshine.

A prison, foul and muddy, roaring, shrieking and howling.

The murkiest den melting the darkness, all's hushed as midnight.

As the morning steals upon the night we split, off to sea.

To fly, sharp wind of the north, a thing divine.

The approaching tide, an ancient and fishlike smell baked with frost.

The veins of the Earth, this hard rock, no stronger than a nutshell.

Strange beast, strange fish, fins like arms.

Jesting monkey, a mark so bloody, melting the night.

Fresh morning, marvelous sweet music hear it sing i 'th' wind.

Torment called forth the mutinous winds by a thunderstroke.

A thing that was most brutish, wicked as thou poisonous slave art.

We run ourselves aground my industrious servant, honorable man.

This gallant wondrous man, so perfect and so peerless.

Bedimmed the noontide son, a thousand twangling instruments topmast.

Brine pits, fresh springs, the veins of the Earth.

Off to sea, some heavenly music, all's hushed by midnight.

 

Shakespeare Poem Review

When I wrote this poem I was first learning about Shakespeare by reading the Tempest, and I thought this was the most complicated thing to listen to. But this creative project actually helped me. Because I had to write my own “Shakespeare Poem” I had to understand most of the terms being used. Terms like “Art not Afeard”? Things of that nature were quite complicated to me when reading them but I believe it gave me an advantage when reading The Tempest.