At noisy readings an angry old poet
Would pick up one of his books and bestow it.
When they would snicker
He'd wish his book thicker,
For it would flutter in air when he'd throw it.
Limerick of the Angry Poet
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Category Archives: poem
“All the World’s a Stage” [Soliloquy from AS YOU LIKE IT] by William Shakespeare [w/ Audio]
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms;
Then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like a snail
Unwilling to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side.
His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
NOTE: Sometimes called the “Seven Ages of Man,” this soliloquy is spoken by Jacques in Act II: Sc. 7 of As You Like It.
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Modern Art Limerick
There was an up-and-coming modern artist
Who went by the pseudonym "Arthur Fartist."
He painted with flair
From his derriere,
'Til critics judged his work, "not the smartest."
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Five Wise Lines [April 2024]
Of what use for us is a man who, although he has long practiced philosophy, has never upset anyone?
Diogenes of sinope on Plato, according to themistius
The superstition that we must drive from the Earth is that which, making a tyrant of God, invites men to become tyrants.
Voltaire in On Superstition
The progress of an artist is a continual self-sacrifice, a continual extinction of personality.
T.S. Eliot in Tradition and the Individual talent
What’s the difference between a king and a poor man if they would both end the same bundle of white bones.
Zhuangzi
The absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence.
Carl sagan (Note: There are variations on this quote that long predate Sagan’s)
HONORABLE MENTIONS:
You live off the crumbs that fall from the festive table of my genius.
Kurban Said in Ali and Nino [Not so much wisdom as a wicked burn]
To roam Giddily and be everywhere, but at home, Such freedom doth a banishment become.
John donne in a Poetic letter to rowland woodward
Lions are not the slaves of those who feed them, it is the feeders, rather, who are the lion’s slaves. For fear is the mark of a slave, and wild beasts make men fearful.
Diogenes the cynic
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“Drinking” by Abraham Cowley [w/ Audio]
The thirsty Earth soaks up the Rain,
And drinks, and gapes for drink again.
The Plants suck in the Earth, and are
With constant drinking fresh and faire.
The Sea itself, which one would think
Should have but little need of Drink,
Drinks ten thousand Rivers up,
So fill'd that they o'erflow the Cup.
The busy Sun (and one would guess
By 's drunken fiery face no less)
Drinks up the Sea, and when he's done,
The Moon and Stars drink up the Sun.
They drink and dance by their own light,
They drink and revel all the night.
Nothing in Nature 's Sober found,
But an eternal Health goes round.
Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high,
Fill all the Glasses there, for why
Should every creature drink but I,
Why, Man of Morals, tell me why?
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Mutual Longing [Haiku]
a tree reaches
toward the pond; the pond
reaches back again.
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Summer Sunrise [Haiku]
summer sun
rises over the lake.
somewhere, church bells chime.
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“Fire and Ice” by Robert Frost [w/ Audio]
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
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“Memory” by William Butler Yeats [w/ Audio]
One had a lovely face,
And two or three had charm,
But charm and face were in vain
Because the mountain grass
Cannot but keep the form
Where the mountain hare has lain.
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Deer Mind [Haiku]
the deer goes still.
I wonder, is its mind still,
or in a sprint?
Tiger Riding for Beginners 