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Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
Contributed by
bugoron
on
Tuesday, 27th September 2005 @ 09:06:02 PM in AEST
Topic:
dedicatedpoems
|
An illusion of reality
Upon a sailing ship
Is brought to its finality
By the ninetieth-something flip.
Amazingly absurd, it seems,
To keep playing the game,
When dazed, as if from passing dreams,
You don't even know your own name.
To chase around a single man
Insane with rage and hate,
And conjure up the brilliant plan
To go nowhere and wait.
To flip a coin and question,
And ask for asking's sake,
Yet never make suggestion
To, from the captor, break.
Absurdity, like men entrenched,
Taking absent-minded breath
Until the comic thirst is quenched
And Tom's men face their death.
Copyright ©
bugoron
... [
2005-09-27 21:06:02]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Tuesday, 27th September 2005 @ 10:07:44 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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| Very cool, loved it. |
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Re: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Monday, 24th July 2006 @ 03:26:35 PM AEST
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| Cool poem, was attracted by the title having just done Hamlet. |
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Re: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
(User Rating: 1 )
by little_genna on
Sunday, 17th February 2008 @ 06:19:18 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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| i love your word manipulation. you make words flow so easily that i feel like i am in a dream where they are being whispered to me... |
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