Reading King John and Missing Jewell

A Poem for Lost Poetry

Such a long time it has been since poetical workings, that I have lost most disposition and set asunder what forsythe I had. Mettle for poetry indeed breeds within these bones but the use of these such limbs, to motion such bones forward is an unknown for these bold truths. This head, at this very moment, full with thoughts abstract, it does find thought very far from conceiving resolution. When I do try for thoughts of poetry to conceive, they, save for the baser thoughts, do fly from my envisioning. An poetry did breed in these bones, to be moved by these limbs and sinews, I find them in these days, proof to be such recreant motions.

When best I breed thought, then doth my will sleep;

This thought-bred will, counts not plume’s stroke, but sheep;

Save, will, that blanks mind and sinks shrewdest sea;

These trying times doth seem the savior be.

What serves such a finer loss to memory than to remember it so with what will did cause it to cease. Out of mind’s spurning did I, with such stupor, create these rhyming words of connoted verse. Think it not to spell the dawning of this month’s artistry, but, know it as the weaving of my bending will. How oft I dream perchance to write another Sonnet, that it may attach itself to my gallant pride this month. Yet, the best I have to offer thus far to my creativity is the reading of such Sonnets and Epics written by William Shakespeare.

Reading King John Again

Today I did spend the all of the gilding sun outdoors, reading upon his work that once did I read before. The whole of ‘King John’ I did read and looking through my Diary realize that I have read it before. However, having read it again it felt as if I was reading anew. This I feel is due to my only having read up to ACT III due to my misinterpreting and confusion of the storyline.

However, now that I have had a chance to read it through (Some parts more thoroughly for understanding) I do see the strengths of the characters not before seen. How almost every sovereign was vowing for supremacy, the plea of Constance for bloodshed to avenge her grief. The battle between King John and King Phillip of France, where Austria sided with the latter and was dismembered by ‘some airy devil that hovers in the sky’, most probably a hail of arrows.

The role of the bastard son of late Sir Robert Faulconbridge who did to my liking take the more dominant and powering voice in the play. The bastard, who was shrewd, defiant, passionate and rash to thought to his noble calamities. The marriage that joined France with England to create a peace to war before it was undone with the choleric and powerful speech of Constance, the shrewd defiance of The Bastard and the Cardinal Pandulph.

That the battle did blood shed, where Arthur was taken as prisoner (This part I do not fully comprehend) and France (Along with Constance) set off to acquire him back. The passionate release of Arthur by Hubert from a death that would see King John gain the crown that did in the belief that he was dead cause uproar amongst the people. The three earls to King John who did with this news fly to France to fight against King John, only to return for pardon of King John who is on his deathbed.

The King falls ill because he believes his son Arthur to be dead but Hubert admits he did not follow through. Nevertheless, Arthur dies tragically, trying to jump to freedom from the castle walls in peasant’s clothing, only to find his death on the clay floor. In the end, a peace between France and England is called and the warring is over. All in all, the play was fair indeed, but none fairer than fickle.

Mariah Carey and Jewell

Transition does now accompany these transcending pages with the thought to chronology. It all begins after my entry on Saturday morning which I did finally finish in the early afternoon. Within those hours where my nights joys were an uncertainty I started playing the ‘Mariah Carey’ ‘Daydream’ album. Through each song I did sift, hearing the words and responding accordingly in thought. Originally, this CD was portrayed for Kathryn and those songs to that religious remembrance do I in nature yield.

However, when hearing the song ‘Open Arms’ I started to realize the connection and strength in words that made me think of Jewell. As noted before, lyrics in songs have the utmost meaning and insight into my frame of thought. When I do hear lyrics their meaning sticks in my mind and yet, how is it that every song somehow reminds me of Jewell. It seems that each song I hear, there is always some hidden meaning within my assumptions that makes me link those words to my thoughts of Jewell.

This leads me to say that Jewell and I have been through everything together. We have lived every emotion that life and love portrays and yet, this of all things in the shortest of time. Jewell, one that I loved yet I did not know what love was and still, say I had done it so. Jewell, who I did treat with a young heart and inexperienced mind, in the end, had I to these naïveté’s lost her. My Jewell, that with these new grown and matured thoughts look back upon, to see her disdain for whose lacking judgment judged.

Quoting Open Arms

These words of mine are not like songs, not like lyrics and speak too confusing a tongue even for poetry. Therefore, I will quote part of the truth in the song ‘Open Arms’ that with such harmony does bring out the harmony in my acceptance. As I will quote from the lyrics ‘So now I come to you, with open arms, nothing to hide, believe what I say, so here I am with open arms, Hoping you’ll see what your love means to me, open arms’.

These words might not be as profound as the extent of what my mind can achieve but they, to my mind stick. How in these hours, where I was listening to these lyrics, did I wish that Jewell and I could just wipe the slate of misfortune clean. What boon would bless me if Jewell and I could just start all over again, with this matured mind, to love, to relationships and to wise decisions. What this tongue could now achieve that could not in those days, what these thoughts can dream and what these hands can more accomplish I dread to foresee.

With the shadows of the past I know these foreseen hopes can never be without past looming wrongs but I will be all the more wise for it. This stubborn bearing I will lose and not wanting to be trapped within past reality, I would myself wrought to be more outgoing save for my solemn past. Yet, as with all hopes and dreams, I shall not discourage these wishes. That one day, what I seek I will find and if truly I do for Jewell wish by my side, I will await without discourage, and she will be hither forth…

Ending the Night Early

Ah boy, the night sure does not bring the same eagerness to write in this diary as morning with her due now does. I would rather read more Shakespearean poetry than ascribe these pages with tired jargon. This lack of enthusiasm never used to show my worth a couple of months ago but, I guess you’re now getting used to it. Therefore, I shall speak of my Saturday night when best I wake tomorrow and I shall speak of my mostly gilded day in those same hours. Until then, I shall be off as the time is 11:00 p.m. (Spend some time watching television), to begin on ‘Richard the Second’ and when my eyes tire, fall asleep.