“Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears
Moist it again, and frame some feeling line
That may discover such integrity …
William Shakespeare, Two Gentleman of Verona

E tu Brute

He did not beware
the Ides of March
And thereby hangs a tale
As luck would have it
It beggared all description

In my mind’s eye:
Is this a dagger I see before me?
Good riddance, you said
Fight fire with fire
You cried havoc, and he
Dead as a doornail
Cold as stone

Oh, woe is me
When sorrows come,
they come not as single spies,
but whole battalions
Short shift
You sent him packing
and more fool you

© 2019, poem, Jamie Dedes; public domain illustration ~ “This was long thought to be the only portrait of William Shakespeare that had any claim to have been painted from life, until another possible life portrait, the Cobbe portrait, was revealed in 2009. The portrait is known as the ‘Chandos portrait‘ after a previous owner, James Brydges, 1st Duke of Chandos. It was the first portrait to be acquired by the National Portrait Gallery (U.K.) in 1856. The artist may be by a painter called John Taylor who was an important member of the Painter-Stainers’ Company.”


Fe, foh, and fun … Take a spin with Shakespeare and write us a poem using phrases of his that have come into common usage.  If you need a bit of help, you’ll find some HERE. You can mix your own words with Shakespeare’s or stick strictly with his. Your choice.

Share your poems on theme in the comments section below or leave a link to it/them. All poems on theme will be published on the first Tuesday following this post.

 No poems submitted through email or Facebook will be published. 

IF this is your first time joining us for The Poet by Day, Wednesday Writing Prompt, please send a brief bio and photo to me at thepoetbyday@gmail.com to introduce yourself to the community … and to me :-). These are partnered with your poem/s on first publication.

PLEASE send the bio ONLY if you are with us on this for the first time AND only if you have posted a poem (or a link to one of yours) on theme in the comments section below.  

Deadline:  Monday, February 25 by 8 pm Pacific Standard.

Anyone may take part Wednesday Writing Prompt, no matter the status of your career: novice, emerging or pro.  It’s about exercising the poetic muscle, showcasing your work, and getting to know other poets who might be new to you. This is a discerning non-judgemental place to connect.

You are welcome – encouraged – to share your poems in a language other than English but please accompany it with a translation into English.



  1. Hello!

    I hope this doesn’t make Shakespeare roll in his grave.

    To Scratch of Not to Scratch

    To scratch, or not to scratch, that is the question:
    Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
    The itch and burn of abusive mosquito bites
    Or to take arms against a sea of irritation
    And by opposing end them:

    To scratch, to rub, no more;
    And by a rub to say we end
    The frustration and the maddening,
    Relentless shocks that flesh is heir to?
    ‘Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.

    To scratch, to rub – to rub, perchance to slake:
    Aye, there’s the bub,
    For in that rub of satiation
    What doubts may come
    When we have abandoned
    This self-restraint must give us pause.
    There’s the inanity that creates confusion
    Of such simplicity:

    For who would bear the jolts and pangs of bites,
    The insatiable lust,
    The sleepless nights,
    The pangs of irate skin,
    The obsessive thoughts,
    The insolence of the unbitten,
    And the spurns that impatient scratchers
    By the self-righteous take,
    When he himself might his liberation make
    With a sole finger?

    Who would itchiness bear,
    To shake and tremble
    Under a tortured skin,
    But that the dread of something
    After the scratch,
    The possibility of greater itch to come,
    From whose scratch no human can deny,
    Puzzles the will,
    And makes us rather bear the itch we have
    Than scratch to others that we know not of?


    Liked by 2 people


    Neither a borrower nor a lender be!
    As luck would have it, in this brave new
    world I managed to break the ice,
    discovering that brevity is the soul of wit.
    The fellow refused to budge an inch, this
    was cold comfort as conscience does
    make cowards of us all. I, with bated breath,
    In one fell swoop, decided to play it fast
    and loose, set my teeth on edge
    and with a heart of gold, proclaimed,
    ill wind blows no man to good!
    You have eaten me out of house and home,
    For goodness sake! Good riddance!
    I am more sinned against than sinning!
    In my heart of hearts, I had to conclude
    the game is on. Love, is blind filled with
    forgotten yesterdays. I gave the devil
    his due, for much ado about nothing.
    “O God, O God, how weary, stale,
    flat, and unprofitable seem
    to me all the uses of this world.”
    “My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
    Or else my heart, concealing it, will break.
    And rather than it shall, I will be free
    Even to the uttermost, as I please,
    in words.”

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Hello! I know you don’t do comments on your blog but I wanted to let you know that I enjoyed both your poems immensely! So very clever and a wonderful tribute to the Bard. Thank you for sharing.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. dj b.ill.e shex

    how sharper n a SERPENT’S tooth
    n one bare bodkin
    singe my white head
    4 b n old
    2 b r naught
    poor tom’s acold

    ah words words words
    r’t naught th point
    o band o bruhs
    time out
    a joint

    Liked by 4 people

  4. Respected Jamie Ji Hail to Your Grace’
    A Poetic Tempest riseth in the oceans of the inner red flow, ‘ If poetry be the food of creativity,poetry it will be…if it be not now,yet it will be, God willing by Monday next. I will call for pen and ink and write my mind.
    Adieu Adieu the keyboard grieves to part,though ice covers the finger tips.

    Liked by 1 person

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