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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 14:30:01 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 5852
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Shakespeare, misquote
[time] => 2002-10-29 21:20:00
[hometext] => The lunatic, the lover, and the poet are of imagination all compact.
[bodytext] => I never was much good it did appear, When trying to take in the Bard, Shakespeare, Seems the words I very much mistook, Perhaps not paying attention to the book. Teacher read out loud the mighty script, But did these words escape his lips? I’m sure I heard these words, I do swear, “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your beers”. Maybe I’m going very slightly deaf with age, Gone past fifty, hair pulled out with rage, All these words come through slightly bent, “Now is the winter of our disco tent”. Now I love Shakespeare, let’s get this right, I could relate to death speeches all night, But is this correct or just me on the rocks, “Think you I am no stronger than my socks”? From Stratford (Upon Avon) boy Bill did come, To take the world for ever with clever tongue, But did the English say as to war they flew, “Those who are about to fry, we salute you”? To read them all a task I readily fortook, Watch the plays in the round I undertook, Yet was King calling when falling to the floor, “A whore! a whore! my kingdom for a whore!”? Now I’m sorry if you I have managed to upset, With flimsy words about those I forget, Perhaps you think the complete works cute, All I can say is “Me too, Brute”. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 152 [topic] => 7 [informant] => jonteD [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
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