I am about to embark upon a writing assignment for academic merit. I have a few poems to choose from to analyze. One in particular caught my eye; Shakespeare's Sonnet 116. I used to memorize his work on a weekly basis because I thought it would increase my memory and to entertain myself.
Yes, I was once that pathetic. Anyway here is the poem before I validate the title of this post:
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Awww. Isn't that precious?
Now back to reality. Yes I agree that love- pure love- is timeless indiscriminate of age, beauty, fearless blah blah blah. But Mr. Shakespeare forgot to talk about is how people can change. That young love is not the same as mature love although they can both be pure. People talk about love with as much certainty as they talk about what is "good." And Socrates already proved to us how much we think we know about words we use and revere.
I'm not saying love isn't real. I am saying that boundaries are important. Even God removes his "love" from you if you ain't acting right. You can love someone despite their faults, beyond their faults but in the real world their may come a point where those faults can no longer be bared.
"...to the edge of doom." Really?! How can my love for you survive if I don't?
And how can love survive in a bitter environment? Admit it folks most human beings can only take so much shit, air so many grievances, and wait only so long before they get tired.
This poem is sweet and all that. But I refuse to let love make me somebody's bitch.
Yes, I was once that pathetic. Anyway here is the poem before I validate the title of this post:
SONNET 116
Let me not to the marriage of true mindsAdmit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Awww. Isn't that precious?
Now back to reality. Yes I agree that love- pure love- is timeless indiscriminate of age, beauty, fearless blah blah blah. But Mr. Shakespeare forgot to talk about is how people can change. That young love is not the same as mature love although they can both be pure. People talk about love with as much certainty as they talk about what is "good." And Socrates already proved to us how much we think we know about words we use and revere.
I'm not saying love isn't real. I am saying that boundaries are important. Even God removes his "love" from you if you ain't acting right. You can love someone despite their faults, beyond their faults but in the real world their may come a point where those faults can no longer be bared.
"...to the edge of doom." Really?! How can my love for you survive if I don't?
And how can love survive in a bitter environment? Admit it folks most human beings can only take so much shit, air so many grievances, and wait only so long before they get tired.
This poem is sweet and all that. But I refuse to let love make me somebody's bitch.
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