✍🏻 8 (mate ‘n’ master)

what do you insinu8?

Here, in the sonnet below, our bard is saying, “okay, I know in the eyes of others the one I love probably ain’t the bee’s knees; probably ain’t everyone’s be all and end all” but, in my eyes, she’s perfect and she’s priceless and she’s beyond compare:

Sonnet 130

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damask’d, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

— William Shakespeare

BBC Listening (oh my 💓; there’d be a summary and a link to the corresponding story too).

October’s Cataclysm

  When the calendar did etch up 3 weeks
  I felt the hole in my heart deepen more
  I felt the rupture in my soul still more
  I felt the hollow of forever more.

  Then I looked up to the blinding sunlight
  I worked hard to make myself stand upright
  I wended for solace with my graphite
  I willed myself to state it’ll be alright.

  Then, back to default: eyes to the abyss
  I see sadness begot from broken hopes
  I see ageing, despair and stark decay
  I see winter grey and cold solitude.

  But i’m incapable of letting go;
  You’re my heart (💖) so, everything I’ll forgo.

Oh my sweetheart, [why must] violent delights have violent ends?

A poet, traditionally one who recites epic poems.

Author: Anna Bidoonism

You'll find lots of (1) poems & (2) prose on my blog as well as information about (3) literary analysis (4) philosophy & (5) psychology. This is me; this is who I am.

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