They’re talking to Hamlet
Like he can’t see.
They’re stating action that should be obvious
Or at least easily intuited by a pretty smart guy.
What is happening to Hamlet
That they have to narrate the ghost’s actions?
Has he fallen to his knees?
Hidden his face?
Prepared himself to listen by not watching?
Or is he hypnotized by the ghostly face of his father?
Stunned, frozen, eyes so wide he doesn’t appear to see.

Such an elegant sentence
Simple
Direct
Like a silk sheath dress
That appears to be just a bit of fabric
Thrown over a body
But is, in fact, artfully, skillfully made
To appear simple. And it is.
It is simple
But so full.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Horatio played
As the foreigner he seems to be.
He has no idea what the customs of this land are.
He has different sets of niceties, it seems. He gets to
Ask questions about the rules of this world
That no one else does.
Is this why Hamlet trusts him more than any one else?
He’s an outsider. He has no vested interest in the king
Or his rules. He’s just there to see the Danish sites
And maybe as a bonus, he gets to hang out
With the Prince.
I want to see a Horatio who messes up the Danish formalities,
Who looks radically different from the court he’s a guest of.
Maybe with a camera to take pictures of the Danish sites?

What is the meaning of trumpets?
What do drums signify?
Harpsichord means Harpsichord
Ukulele, Ukulele
But those two bass notes mean a shark is coming.
Those three young voices singing in ascendance
Mean magical help is on its way.
When we hear those sharp strings striking
In quick succession,
We know it means a knife is doing quick work.
Music in the middle of the night in Denmark
Means that the king is up drinking, apparently.

The winter of the day draws near
Or rather, the winter of the night.
The autumn was a short brisk one
Around twilight.
The summer, a bright afternoon.
When spring broke in the morning
Through the blinds
It made the hour bloom
As each minute opened its blossoms.

They told me this life would be hard.
They said, “Talent isn’t enough.” They said
Only a few would find a way, that it
Would likely break my heart. They
Suggested I find some other thing to chase,
To set my sights on some other dream.
There was something about the odds
Something about the hardships
Something about the poverty
Something about the roller coaster
Something about perpetual rejection
Something about sacrifice and compromise.
They very definitely warned me.

Taking the word apart
Like a finished jigsaw puzzle
Breaking it off into chunks
Folding it up to put in the box
Taking piece from interlocking piece,
I find the pieces point to something about
The whole.
When someone tells us something remarkable,
We do not say “in-word?”
or “In truth?” or “in thought?”
No, for the real truth about something,
We look to ACTION
We look to what has been done
We will always trust that first.

Twelve
Missing something
Missing its essential Twelveness.
It feels itself becoming itself
Becoming twelve
But there’s a hole there.
If only it had that little bit, that little missing piece,
Twelve would be the full embodiment of Twelve –
It would be all of its potential.
It would be the oak tree, not just
The acorn’s roots and branches.
There are words here.

Horatio’s air is the energetic younger brother
To Hamlet’s shrewd biting air.
They travel together. The elder air, cagey and searching
For the optimum spot to sink its teeth in and the younger
Bops along next to him, just grazing the skin anywhere he can find some,
Like a puppy playing next to a fierce guard dog.