Friday, 23 June 2017

All The World's A Stage

As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII [All the world’s a stage]

William Shakespeare, 1564 – 1616

Jaques to Duke Senior          
                          All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Tuesday, 20 June 2017


A vagabond
Wandering through my life
Searching but never finding peace
Befuddled by cannabis sativa
My life story is a shamble
Grasping for leverage
Failing I stay

© Phil Renaud 2017

Thursday, 15 June 2017

Early Morning

Early Morning
It is dark
Dawn is imminent
The only sounds I hear
Are chirping birds
My laboured breathing
My pounding feet
And my heart
Thumping in my ears

An early morning run
Is an exhilarating way
To start the day

© Phil Renaud 2017

Photo from Internet, no claim of ownership