Operatic Poetry Page

          

            Operatic Sonnets

            Date: November 01, 2000 10:41 PM

            Author: Don Operatico (donoperatico@hotmail.com)

            Subject: Shakespeare on Escamillo

 

            Your toast I can return, because, señors,

            we bullfighters and soldiers are alike:

            Yes, both like slashing stuff apart with swords!

            The stadium's full, the gang is getting psyched,

            The stadium's full of holiday berserks;

            the spectators all lose their heads and scream:

            they yell out insults like a bunch of jerks,

            and treat the noble beast with scant esteem.

            Toreador, on guard, toreador!

            Toreador! And think well as thou bash'st,

            yes think that a black eye on thee doth bore,

            of one whom by machismo thou abash'st!

            And love awaiteth thee, or if not love,

            then sex at least with maid in dark alcove!

  


          

            Date: November 03, 2000 06:56 PM

            Author: Don Operatico (donoperatico@hotmail.com)

            Subject: Figaro's a Poet and Didn't Know It

 

            First, a word about the Escamillo. I left out a line earlier and

            have just edited it.

            If, my dear Count, you want to dance around

            with my wife, while you cruelly dis your own,

            dance then unto the tune my lyre shall sound,

            for none shall play the tune save I alone.

            I'll know, yes, every mystery I'll pierce,

            dissimulating I shall fool you yet;

            reverse shall I all machinations fierce:

            take care while dancing, for the floor is wet!

            I'll trick you into thinking that your wife

            is doing you as you are doing her:

            In vain you'll rage, because not on your life

            will matters cease for you to be a blur!

            Yes, if you want to dance, I'll call the tune,

            and make you feel like a confused buffoon!

 



            

            Date: November 07, 2000 09:52 PM

            Author: Don Operatico (donoperatico@hotmail.com)

            Subject: Operatic Sonnets

 

            In Appalachian Deutschland was I born,

            for I did lusten after mine own aunt.

            My second cousin is the drittë Norn,

            and for her flesh my bro'-in-law did pant.

            I am as Aryan as a Sauerkraut:

            no Dwarvish Untermensch is my forebear;

            one raised me, it is true, but I found out

            Mim's evil genes -- not that I really cared.

            When I had done away the Untermensch,

            I learned with joy a woman's not a man,

            for women attributes have that can quench

            my libido, oh wogah! how they can!

            Alas, I can't tell K and B apart,

            but either one I'll order à la carte.