Self-Indulgent Poetry

I'm about to attend a Poetry Slam camp in upstate New York, so I've been writing a little. I thought I would share this one for my friends. It is 17 stanzas of Haikus on the theme of acting in Shakespeare. I had one on traffic that I thought Mel would enjoy ... but too many naughty words to publish here ...

High Cued
Or
Subtext: The Actor’s Nightmare

Why pursue acting?
With Shakespeare I’m a novice
Making versed attempts.

I am a butcher.
Before Laertes fences
I foil the prince.

Alone on the stage.
With Hamlet’s Soliloquy
I’m star craving mad.

“Alas poor Yorick!
I knew him, Horatio.”
(He’s better off dead)

The poor audience.
How they must endure this play!
(They should try sleeping)

Auditions tonight
For The Merchant of Venice.
I could be Shylock!

A pound of flesh should
Be cut from this acting ham.
I’m playing a Jew.

What was I thinking?
I don’t make enough money
To wreck this Portia.

The audience cheered!
Much ado about nothing.
I’m a great actor …

The Bard would be proud
To hear me recite, perhaps
As Richard the Third.

To think I doubted
My ability to act.
(Gulp!) What’s my next line?

Such a pregnant pause.
Why can’t I think of the line?
“Are we not human?”

I wish I were dead …
I skipped half of the third act.
I’m stark raving bad!

Try and try again.
Make triumph of tragedy
In a comedy.

Taming of the Shrew.
I’m playing Petrucchio
But Kate is a bitch!

“But will you, nil you,
I will out act you, diva!”
We brought down the house.

Thus, the show closes,
And we make our curtain call.
All’s well that ends well.