Thursday, October 27, 2005

Ballad of a Brain-Dead Poet

I wrote this poem several years ago as a project for a Shakespeare class I was taking as part of my AA Degree. It is based primarily on Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act 3, Scene 2, Lines 72-86

Ballad of a Brain Dead Poet
by John W. Leys

You worship her as a Goddess
Believing she can do no wrong
As you tune your sinew strung lute
To compose another ill conceived song

How many sacrifices will you make
Before you’ve had enough?
How much are you willing to lose
Before you finally call her bluff?

You write your little poems
Thriving on the pain
Wondering how I have the nerve
To suggest that you may be insane

Your tears keep your ink moist
And give your poems "integrity"
While your little acts of melodrama
Only serve to frame your stupidity

What will happen to your poems
When your eyes shed their last tear?
When your soul becomes numb to the pain
Then you will really know fear

The ink will start to dry in your pen
You’ll have nothing left to say
She’ll find another willing worshiper
While you quietly fade away.

2-5 September 1997


The background image on this page is a Hebrew translation of the verse from Bob Dylan's song  It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding), from which the title of this blog is taken. Translation courtesy of Yoram Aharon of Hod-HaSharon's page--found via YudelLine-- which has many Dylan lyrics in Hebrew.