Young Thomas Is A Longshoreman By Trade...
August 20, 2014 7:06 AM Subscribe
A series of Pop Songs converted into Shakesperean-style sonnets.
New sonnets added every week. Among those already featured (see if you can guess first):
Young Thomas is a longshoreman by trade,
Whose guild ceased work to fight for wages fair.
The strike drags on, 'tis weeks since he's been paid,
A crawl towards destitution and despair.
Remember when I tended to thy grass?
She then appeared in nought but towel dress'd.
Her lasting look showed favor clear as glass,
While pointing out some errant growth in jest.
From observation of my gallant gait
And its effect upon the sex so fair,
You see no hope for discourse or debate,
For comely ladies find me debonair.
These feelings that weigh heavy in my breast
Should in your soul be similarly sown;
I pledge these vows, so earnestly express'd,
To make my deep affections truly known...
To these celestial bodies raise a toast
For they've maintained a wondrous constancy,
Just like we've drifted on Life's trying coasts
Too long to any diff'rent sailors be.
While ladies dance away the night for sport,
So shall we too, their favor sweet to court.
...If you prefer Shakespeare as a dramatist, enjoy this previous post.
New sonnets added every week. Among those already featured (see if you can guess first):
Young Thomas is a longshoreman by trade,
Whose guild ceased work to fight for wages fair.
The strike drags on, 'tis weeks since he's been paid,
A crawl towards destitution and despair.
Remember when I tended to thy grass?
She then appeared in nought but towel dress'd.
Her lasting look showed favor clear as glass,
While pointing out some errant growth in jest.
From observation of my gallant gait
And its effect upon the sex so fair,
You see no hope for discourse or debate,
For comely ladies find me debonair.
These feelings that weigh heavy in my breast
Should in your soul be similarly sown;
I pledge these vows, so earnestly express'd,
To make my deep affections truly known...
To these celestial bodies raise a toast
For they've maintained a wondrous constancy,
Just like we've drifted on Life's trying coasts
Too long to any diff'rent sailors be.
While ladies dance away the night for sport,
So shall we too, their favor sweet to court.
...If you prefer Shakespeare as a dramatist, enjoy this previous post.
Um, does having read this one mean I've been rickrolled?
posted by aught at 7:23 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
posted by aught at 7:23 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
I was waiting to see who'd notice that. :-)
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 7:25 AM on August 20, 2014
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 7:25 AM on August 20, 2014
Young cat is a longshoreman by trade,
Whose cat ceased work to fight for wages fair.
The cat drags on, 'tis weeks since he's been paid,
A crawl towards destitution and cats.
posted by obscure simpsons reference at 7:26 AM on August 20, 2014 [3 favorites]
Whose cat ceased work to fight for wages fair.
The cat drags on, 'tis weeks since he's been paid,
A crawl towards destitution and cats.
posted by obscure simpsons reference at 7:26 AM on August 20, 2014 [3 favorites]
Do gaze upon the fair lord Gerald Browne
Of sanguine humor and no lack of mirth
Upon his head shall shortly rest a crown
And all will kneel before his royal girth
...
Your youth shall be entrancèd into thrall
And California shall reign o'er all
posted by griphus at 7:36 AM on August 20, 2014 [9 favorites]
Of sanguine humor and no lack of mirth
Upon his head shall shortly rest a crown
And all will kneel before his royal girth
...
Your youth shall be entrancèd into thrall
And California shall reign o'er all
posted by griphus at 7:36 AM on August 20, 2014 [9 favorites]
This is only awesome.
posted by clvrmnky at 7:44 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
posted by clvrmnky at 7:44 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
S'blood! Methinks thou dost Rick-roll us!
posted by Novus at 7:58 AM on August 20, 2014 [3 favorites]
posted by Novus at 7:58 AM on August 20, 2014 [3 favorites]
Upon preview: That which aught sayest.
posted by Novus at 7:59 AM on August 20, 2014 [2 favorites]
posted by Novus at 7:59 AM on August 20, 2014 [2 favorites]
These are so, so good. Thanks for sharing!
posted by town of cats at 8:01 AM on August 20, 2014
posted by town of cats at 8:01 AM on August 20, 2014
...If you prefer Shakespeare as a dramatist, enjoy this previous post.
Also somewhat related: This previous post about Beyoncé lyrics as dramatic monologues.
posted by Kabanos at 8:06 AM on August 20, 2014
Also somewhat related: This previous post about Beyoncé lyrics as dramatic monologues.
posted by Kabanos at 8:06 AM on August 20, 2014
griphus-
A knock upon your household gate
As some strange fiction it beseem
In raiment blue, the Magistrate
Come for your niece of low esteem
posted by TheWhiteSkull at 8:11 AM on August 20, 2014 [2 favorites]
A knock upon your household gate
As some strange fiction it beseem
In raiment blue, the Magistrate
Come for your niece of low esteem
posted by TheWhiteSkull at 8:11 AM on August 20, 2014 [2 favorites]
Thanks. One more fun thing to do with my high school English teachers this year!
posted by kozad at 8:14 AM on August 20, 2014
posted by kozad at 8:14 AM on August 20, 2014
Ha, this is fun! I like scrolling so that I can't see what song it is until I figure it out from the sonnet. So far the only one I've missed is a song I'd never heard of in the first place.
posted by vytae at 8:23 AM on August 20, 2014
posted by vytae at 8:23 AM on August 20, 2014
I suppose the key to Shakespeare's lasting influence is that he made it clear that the cab trip was local and not cross-country.
posted by ckape at 8:43 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
posted by ckape at 8:43 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
Dude! I now have my high school freshman English "Introduction to Shakespeare" lessons.
posted by kinetic at 8:54 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
posted by kinetic at 8:54 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
"Stacy" is not a good choice for the last word of a couplet.
posted by Wolfdog at 8:56 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
posted by Wolfdog at 8:56 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
Upon my visage rivers manifest,
Which comp'ny make with lines of palmistry,
Where fate is written, though shan't I invest
In plan, for adolescence is myst'ry.
One dozen and one half winters have passed,
But offer they no clue to my desire;
I know only that I must travel fast
If for to heaven this soul shall aspire.
Within my mind is thinking infantile;
Within my breast, the weak beatings of age;
Within my mouth, a tongue unversatile;
Within my doubt, I sit and stir my rage.
_ I get confusion for my daily bread;
_ On yearning for a journey am I fed.
posted by Sys Rq at 9:53 AM on August 20, 2014 [2 favorites]
Which comp'ny make with lines of palmistry,
Where fate is written, though shan't I invest
In plan, for adolescence is myst'ry.
One dozen and one half winters have passed,
But offer they no clue to my desire;
I know only that I must travel fast
If for to heaven this soul shall aspire.
Within my mind is thinking infantile;
Within my breast, the weak beatings of age;
Within my mouth, a tongue unversatile;
Within my doubt, I sit and stir my rage.
_ I get confusion for my daily bread;
_ On yearning for a journey am I fed.
posted by Sys Rq at 9:53 AM on August 20, 2014 [2 favorites]
Okay, I had to.
The words I say might sound to you quite madposted by EmpressCallipygos at 10:20 AM on August 20, 2014 [4 favorites]
But yonder shines the sun – lo, take your ease!
For my own part I am so filled with joy
Methinks I fain could soar above the trees.
Yonder comes a prattler, shouting “woe” –
“Speak on”, I cry, “let not your wailing cease!
“For such is my delight at my own state
“That naught you say could e’er disturb my peace.”
You seek to drag me down into despair
And rob me of the fullness of my mirth,
But such is my delight and lack of care
That I remain full high above this earth.
For I am glad, with gladness am I filled;
Come join me in my gladness if thou wilt.
Somebody needs to do Baby Got Back please
posted by InfidelZombie at 10:47 AM on August 20, 2014
posted by InfidelZombie at 10:47 AM on August 20, 2014
Erm, not quite Shakespeare, but . . . Baby Got Back.
posted by chainsofreedom at 11:06 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
posted by chainsofreedom at 11:06 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
Here's something I threw in the old thread to get you started (DISCLAIMER: no, it's not a sonnet, and no, I can't be bothered to turn it into one):
O my stars, Rebecca, do regard
The aspect of yon lady's carryage!
The largesse there bestow'd serves to remind
Of wretched harlots whom poets impress.
I comprehendeth not what poets do.
To her they speak, but hear me, that is due
Entirely to how she doth present,
Which is to say, as would a prostitute.
Its globularity cannot be true!
Its vast protuberance disgusts me through.
Behold! Never before have I been sure
As now of someone's status as a Moor!
posted by Sys Rq at 11:14 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
O my stars, Rebecca, do regard
The aspect of yon lady's carryage!
The largesse there bestow'd serves to remind
Of wretched harlots whom poets impress.
I comprehendeth not what poets do.
To her they speak, but hear me, that is due
Entirely to how she doth present,
Which is to say, as would a prostitute.
Its globularity cannot be true!
Its vast protuberance disgusts me through.
Behold! Never before have I been sure
As now of someone's status as a Moor!
posted by Sys Rq at 11:14 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
These are cute. I want to try to write one, but I could never do as good as these.
posted by Night_owl at 12:11 PM on August 20, 2014
posted by Night_owl at 12:11 PM on August 20, 2014
Arising in the morning as a chief,
Mine specs and I are off to paint the town.
I scrub a swill of tincture ‘cross mine teeth,
Perhaps that I may revel ‘til I drown.
Hark! Let’s discuss my feet’s brand-new décor!
And of my many vestments, which I’ll don?
To keep the young men calling from their doors,
While in the open air we sing our songs.
Arriving at the festival as Gods,
Debauchery among our chief attempts,
The spirits must reign high, against all odds!
To drink the night ‘til morning sun we glimpse!
The tower bells, insistent in the chimes,
Can go to hell, for ours are Better Times.
posted by Navelgazer at 1:00 PM on August 20, 2014 [2 favorites]
Mine specs and I are off to paint the town.
I scrub a swill of tincture ‘cross mine teeth,
Perhaps that I may revel ‘til I drown.
Hark! Let’s discuss my feet’s brand-new décor!
And of my many vestments, which I’ll don?
To keep the young men calling from their doors,
While in the open air we sing our songs.
Arriving at the festival as Gods,
Debauchery among our chief attempts,
The spirits must reign high, against all odds!
To drink the night ‘til morning sun we glimpse!
The tower bells, insistent in the chimes,
Can go to hell, for ours are Better Times.
posted by Navelgazer at 1:00 PM on August 20, 2014 [2 favorites]
....You don't have a link to the actual song, Navelgazer, so I'm gonna wimp out and ask you to memail me what that's supposed to me?
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 1:59 PM on August 20, 2014
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 1:59 PM on August 20, 2014
Oh, man, I was way off.
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 2:11 PM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 2:11 PM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
The Gods above knew naught if not my youth,
My aspirations myst’ry e’en to they.
The schoolgirls’ passions, lustful and uncouth,
Were yet enough to light my wicked way.
Lo, competition, beauty, style and space,
Upon a massive stage to strum my lyre,
Is presently no longer my disgrace.
My joy seeks novel ways to light its fire.
There’s something you should know which I should tell.
The soul within me screams to manifest.
Abandon portraits, musicals as well:
A man is made of more than how he’s dressed.
We must give falsehoods truth to them bestowed,
We’re neither of us to the other owe’d.
posted by Navelgazer at 5:20 PM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
My aspirations myst’ry e’en to they.
The schoolgirls’ passions, lustful and uncouth,
Were yet enough to light my wicked way.
Lo, competition, beauty, style and space,
Upon a massive stage to strum my lyre,
Is presently no longer my disgrace.
My joy seeks novel ways to light its fire.
There’s something you should know which I should tell.
The soul within me screams to manifest.
Abandon portraits, musicals as well:
A man is made of more than how he’s dressed.
We must give falsehoods truth to them bestowed,
We’re neither of us to the other owe’d.
posted by Navelgazer at 5:20 PM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]
> "Somebody needs to do Baby Got Back please"
I can never resist a challenge ...
It is a truth that cannot be denyed:
A fundament most full and callipygian
Upon a damsel as she steps inside
Is surely my one faith and sole religion.
How much I tire of broadsheets that declare
An oblate buttock holds the heighth of fashion!
It is the rotund base at which I stare;
Convex, not dull concave, swells all my passion.
So, maidens, if you would ride in my carriage,
I must implore you, thrust thy backside proudly.
And gentlemen who think on love and marriage,
Request this of your gentleladies loudly.
The greatest gift of all is curve and jut,
So if thou hast one, shake thy healthy butt.
posted by kyrademon at 7:00 AM on August 21, 2014 [6 favorites]
I can never resist a challenge ...
It is a truth that cannot be denyed:
A fundament most full and callipygian
Upon a damsel as she steps inside
Is surely my one faith and sole religion.
How much I tire of broadsheets that declare
An oblate buttock holds the heighth of fashion!
It is the rotund base at which I stare;
Convex, not dull concave, swells all my passion.
So, maidens, if you would ride in my carriage,
I must implore you, thrust thy backside proudly.
And gentlemen who think on love and marriage,
Request this of your gentleladies loudly.
The greatest gift of all is curve and jut,
So if thou hast one, shake thy healthy butt.
posted by kyrademon at 7:00 AM on August 21, 2014 [6 favorites]
Newest one is up! See if you can spot it -
You are a flame that burns within my breast,
The singular desire of my heart.
Believe my wish, most solemnly profess'd
That we should ne'er again be so apart....
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 6:22 AM on August 22, 2014
You are a flame that burns within my breast,
The singular desire of my heart.
Believe my wish, most solemnly profess'd
That we should ne'er again be so apart....
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 6:22 AM on August 22, 2014
The Let it Go one seems sort of Emily Dickinson to me. No slant rhyme or odd punctuation, and I don't know if she ever wrote sonnets, but thematically it's right on.
posted by vibratory manner of working at 9:26 AM on August 22, 2014
posted by vibratory manner of working at 9:26 AM on August 22, 2014
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posted by torridly at 7:18 AM on August 20, 2014 [1 favorite]