Melting Down the Crown

Greetings, I am Macbeth and with a little help from three weird sisters and my beloved Lady Macbeth, thaneship came unto me a tad too easily. Behold the deep and insightful thoughts of what really happened in my eyes and soon you will not be able to un-see the things I tell you. I shall warn you before you carry on, if thou is afraid of horrific imagery, I recommend you shant advance further.

[thatscottishdude-blog]

My dearest Rose Petal

Find fate at doors unopened and thou shall be

in his great name blessed.

Hail who you see fit, though mystical eyes deceive

creatures amongst you. Precious jewels be edged

with swords, as roses share but of a similar trait.

Walk swiftly, as night is fair and fine as gold. Hold tight

in hand the silver pin, coated by parts of man one can not see

for eyes unspoken by temptation. Slip the blade between cracks

hair thin, for it must be forgotten.

Foul fears linger in our shadows as we pass by candle lit halls.

May crowns be given and taken from those involved, as one

may appear as itself, though behind hides a flawless being

with a soul as black as a raven.

    -Lee Gour (regarding Lady Macbeth)

[thatscottishdude-blog]

I fear not of Birnam Wood, for my castle

has chance, laying rested upon the highest of Scotland,

for all to see though none to enter.

Thoughts of battle be only in their minds, for kingdoms are

as highlands sit, above all, falling at nothing.

[thatscottishdude-blog]

Thy name be known as Battle

May the light of today hide what they shall see morrow

for the ground is but not of dirt. Though will the

boldness of battle seep through moist borders?

Speak what you not and crown those who please more,

as life ends, horrific or not, catastrophic or nimble.

The path forks in diverse ways from beholder to beholder.

Be of oneself and cut thy own maze to be unlike all,

for we are what we have done, not who we have been once

the throat of life is slit and the tears of loved ones

drip down the neck.

Swallow up the waters of pity and despair to be courageous

and unknowing, for greatness shant last long in others eyes

when we each close our own one last fatal time.

          -Lee Gour (regarding Macbeth)

[thatscottishdude-blog]

I'm sorry for everything I've done and all the pain I've caused. To those who turned their backs to me, turn around and face me. I am your friend. Trust me, believe me and give me hope in the darkness. I am in a bad place and need help getting out of here.

[uutpoetry]

When You Think You are Seeing It, Then It is a Reflection Which Deceives You

Once again it is too dark to speak. The eagles are awkward leaning at the tour guide with the colander hat. The same wet carving block is festering over my head imperially. There’s a terminus in my veins. Billboards are advertising enhanced sinks and atomic underwear. I leave the monastery to combat paganism. I deactivate my Pinterest account. Raisins pour out their blood-sugar like engineers in the brown evening. Various solids are locked in the grid of drum machines. We react because the torsion of the North pole has squashed the giant slab of worldly etiquette. But love is insect-frail, is a blinking at the source, is thick as a river in a coarse and dazzling body, is a field of deformation. At night the ice-gleams of the double image of hysteria fasten to our brain tissues like fluttering pennants.

art by ALE SINIESTЯO

[thatscottishdude-blog]

“She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.” (Shakespeare 5:5:16-27)

My wife died at an inconvenient time and now I am left alone in this world. For what? Nothing, as life is the preface to death and ends as fast as it starts. I have lived to tell my tale and now I say farewell.

[sweetspirals-blog-blog-blog]

I know that I’ve been in Scotland long enough when I’ve grown an acquired taste for whisky. 

[eternelle-optimiste]

[realm-of-azrael]

~Wytches of Macbeth~

1st wytch-Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d

2nd wytch-Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined

3rd wytch-Harpier cries “‘Tis time, ‘tis time.”

[thatscottishdude-blog]

You gotta love them :P