Shakespearean Tragedy

Let’s have a Shakespearean tragedy

A three part act
for, all the world’s a stage
and we’ll have our 15 minutes of
undiluted fame.

Always such sadness when love dies
Passion takes its final bow
in spotlight’s dying glow
then, disappears forever.

You are there
she is here
betrayal shouts its vacant yell
across those weeping boards.

Act 1

This was a time when life was rushed
it was all so new and nothing rhymed
except that breath-taking rhythm
in love making.

Act 11

Two hearts which shared one accord.
One love
One dream
Sharing love in such tantalising secrecy
was always doomed to fail.

Now gone
Slipped through your fingers
between those lines of lies.

Act 111

Contains the dreadful deeds
and treachery with words which spit
Wash loves stunted seeds into that pit
of angry, burning pain and
spiteful recriminations which
seem to know no bounds.

Love has now been lost

A true Shakespearean tragedy


At what the cost.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Shared with Carry on Tuesday #167 *All the world’s a stage
With Real Toads #Open Link Monday

Author: Daydreamer

I live on a beautiful island in Atlantic Canada.

18 thoughts on “Shakespearean Tragedy”

  1. I generally need to read your poem 2-3 times….they, and this as well, are thought-provoking and intense….

  2. Gosh! I love the whole idea behind this poem – the very human tale told in three Shakespearean Acts, with an inescapable fate impending. Excellent work.

  3. oh heavy…the loss of love…can we just stay in act 1 please? i really like that one…smiles…the cost is great to ruin this love…i really like your structure in this one bren…the breaking out of the acts….

  4. Romeo and Juliet in three stanzas. almost! whatever one says, Shakespeare is for all times and all places.sheer genius.

  5. Yeah you summed it up well, as it always seems to end in hell. Quite bloody too, maybe that is where the phrase came due.

  6. Aha! Brilliant!! Not that one should laugh at tragedy, but the wonderful insights of this poem (in a blessed shortening from 5 acts to 3), and your reduction of drama to the expected action, quite often staged–are Eureka-like and so I am running down the hall full of delight to spread the news. I wish I had written this poem. “At what cost” do we wear out the boards with the same old plots and emotions? And how easy to see this all from the rear end of life rather than from the beginning. No matter, no one takes our advice anyway–wait! You have a daughter . . .

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