#sonnet 3

[shakespeare-sonnets]

Sonnet III

𝐿𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡

𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟,

𝑊ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑠ℎ 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑖𝑓 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡,

𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑, 𝑢𝑛𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.

𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑏

𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑑𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑦 ℎ𝑢𝑠𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑦?

𝑂𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑏

𝑂𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓-𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑦?

𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟’𝑠 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑒

𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝐴𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑙 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒;

𝑆𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒,

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.

𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒,

𝐷𝑖𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑒.

The poet urges the young man to reflect on his own image in a mirror. Just as the young man’s mother sees her own youthful self reflected in the face of her son, so someday the young man should be able to look at his son’s face and see reflected his own youth. If the young man decides to die childless, all these faces and images die with him.

[thebleedingorange]

Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee / Calls back the lovely April of her prime

- William Shakespeare (Sonnet III)

[judithsheppard]

i know i'm not real to you anymore

[cpcampanello]

Sonnet No.3

[p-isforpoetry]

Sonnet 3 by William Shakespeare (read by Sir John Gielgud)

Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest Now is the time that face should form another; Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest, Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother,

For where is she so fair whose unear’d womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry? Or who is he so fond will be the tomb Of his self-love, to stop posterity?

Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime; So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.

  But if thou live, remember’d not to be,   Die single, and thine image dies with thee.

Source: William Shakespeare - Sonnets, 1996

[sonnets-dailyx]

Sonnet 3

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest,

Now is the time that face should form another,

Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,

Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

For where is she so fair whose uneared womb

Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?

Or who is he so fond will be the tomb

Of his self-love, to stop posterity?

Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she in thee

Calls back the lovely April of her prime;

So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,

Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.

But if thou live rememb’red not to be,

Die single, and thine image dies with thee.

[mipeltaja-art]

Nothing like being woken up in the middle of the night to fistfight your godless killing machine of a girlfriend.

[monstersandbrothers]

actually i think dean would have absolutely no idea how to articulate or encompass his feelings for sam. like sam’s known his entire life with complete clarity that he’s in love and that he wants dean in every way etc etc. but i think if u held a gun to dean’s head and demanded he put a name to his feelings for his brother, he literally wouldn’t be able to offer up anything more than “i’m fucked up.”

[fagtron2000]

ODE TO WORM WIFE: An Original Sonnet

The hive crawléd and buzzéd with malice

At the palace of the wretch'd enemy

Her plans complete with a crown of madness

As she approachéd so very slenderly

It had been so long since the attic

The statement can only be outdated

The worms writhe and crawl with every attack

For the poor archivists still ill-fated

Now, though she is gone, her message rings true

There's something beautiful in loving rot

Silly archivist, she did it all for you

Do not let her effort go all for naught

Though, in the tunnels, she was but burnéd

Jane taught a lesson the world unlearnéd

[brain-rot-central]

I mean

[missygoesmeow]

ive been listening to john sinclair: demon hunter and so i just picture raphael running around with a gun most of the time tbh which is endlessly entertaining (its really good though i recommend!)

and this is the ref i used

[anoras]

harlot in scarlet and whatnot

[env0writes]

NaPoWriMo Vol. 3, 4.12.24 “Tall Tales"

He’s six foot and charming And does what he’s asked He’ll say please and thank you And he’ll do what is tasked To the music, he’s dancing Sanctimoniously Effortlessly romancing Unintentionally He’s uncertain with his sanity And isn’t sure if he’s real He’s doing what he can Which is everything; what’s his deal? To the moonrise he is staring Filled with gumption Filled with caring Constant are his thoughts, cautious in assumption He’s the author and writer and hides behinds words Sending out calls to the morning; he’s brained with the birds

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artists!   Photo by my friend Mika

[konigceo]

The original sin was me and you,

It was the knowledge of good and evil.

The fate of humanity doomed, he knew;

The fallen angel, he, now the devil.

As Eve to Adam, my Sun to your Moon.

Cast out of Eden, the flower wreath dropped,

Your heart shattered, our bliss broken too soon.

The gates to Eden were guarded and locked.

The years that passed will not bring us apart.

For you and I are Adam and Eve, our

Fate brought us forth, and till death do us part. 

The forbidden fruit has long gone sour.

Though, my sin will not keep us from our love;

My Adam, my dear, my purest white dove.

[dazzlerazz]

*Agnea using Donate BP voice* For you!

ended up as more than a doodle ahaha… I don’t know how accurate this is to your vision of him, but I had so much fun :D

OOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY FUCKIBNGGGGGGGGGGGGG GOPDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG IT'S SONNET!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S THE BLORBOC!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANKL YOU THANK YOYU THANK YOUY THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[petit-atelier-de-poesie]

Bleu lagon

Prendre le large en mer, prendre l’air, prendre l’eau Au dépourvu des mots, un peu à la légère, Au vent, bon gré mal gré, avant corps et chimère, Prendre à cœur de lever l’ancre et l’avant-propos.

Perdre de vue la rive, et la marge, et la peau, Partir à la dérive, oublier que les vers Prennent de court l’idée et diluent son mystère Dans l’encre bleu lagon délivrée des stylos.

Voici les flots versés où se noient mes alarmes Et la source épuisée dans le sel de mes larmes. Viens ! Entends Mallarmé et les chants des sirènes

A l’écume, à la proue, lorsque nous divaguons A l’envers du décor, à l’envie qui entraine Par les fonds délicieux de l’encre bleu lagon.

- Fabienne PASSAMENT. 2023