An analysis of THE TAMING OF THE SHREW (William Shakespeare) by Dr. Joseph Suglia / Misogyny TAMING OF THE SHREW SHAKESPEARE

Published on by Tosha Michelle7 Comments

A little light Saturday reading from the greatest author in the world. Fondly, the greatest poet in the world. (in a galaxy far, far away, perhaps)

Dr. Joseph Suglia's avatarSelected Squibs, Scrips, and Essays by Joseph Suglia

An analysis of THE TAMING OF THE SHREW (William Shakespeare) by Dr. Joseph Suglia

“Happy Birthday, Mr. President! / Happy Birthday to you!” — Marilyn Monroe, 19 May 1962

With all of the graciousness of a Wall Street businessman offering a homeless man a wine bottle bubbling with urine, a Noble Lord orchestrates a play for the amusement of a drunkard and wastrel named Christopher Sly, who is deceived into believing that he is a noble lord himself. This meta-narrative, called the “Induction,” does not exactly frame the play that we are watching or reading, since the meta-narrative only reappears briefly in the first scene of the first act and does not resurface after the play is over. (It should be remarked parenthetically that Christopher Sly is pushed above his social station, in the same way the servant Traino will be pushed above his social station when he impersonates his…

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A Life-Blue

Published on by Tosha Michelle93 Comments

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I translate myself in poetry,
often getting lost
in the fog of my mind.
Always looking for reason
in my narrative arc.
Here I roar and rage
all I want.

My words often drip
with disdain, despair.
The story loosely based
on my life.

Some truths are
too sacred to share.
Some truths belong
solely to me.

I try to decipher
what I’m really after.
Notebooks of fire,
letters stumbling around.
The margins full
of heart lines,
trying to capture
the red hours.

My pen sits up straight
and listens to the
commands of my interior
world

Language spills out simply,
but with fervor.
I create something
that is mine.
Fangled trees and damaged grass.
My cameo of grit and grace.
I give you my light, my dark,
my counter winds.
The oracles of desire.

I give then to you
before they burn away.
before they become a valediction.

My gilded fragments
of a life in blue,
suffused with question marks.

-Tosha Michelle

The Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award

Published on by Tosha Michelle70 Comments

sisterhood-award

My thanks to the lovely and talented Geetha B for this nomination. Please check out her exquisite poetry at:

https://geethaprodhom.wordpress.com/

The Rules

Say “Thank You” to the person who nominated you & link their blog to your post.
Answer the 10 questions given to you.
Pass the award on to 7 other bloggers and let them know they have been nominated.
Include the Award Badge in your post.

The Answers. (drum roll, please)

What made you want to start your blog?
– My friend Niles held a gun to my head and made me. No, really, he was always going on about how wonderful WordPress was. I finally decided to see what all the Niles buzz was about. I have to say, I am extremely grateful that he directed me here. The blogging community is so supportive. This is my favorite place to be on-line. People are so kind. It’s such a drama free environment

2. What have you wanted to do on your blog but haven’t yet? Why not?
– win a Nobel Peace Prize:) Honestly, I can’t think of anything. Perhaps, posting nude photos. I kid!!!!

3. Name one item on your bucket list, or more if you like?
– I would love to meet Jon Stewart. I’m a tad obsessed with him and James Purefoy.  It’s totally innocent. I just want Jon to feed me grapes while Purefoy (with his lovely British accent) recites Shakespeare.

I would also like to get my MFA in creative writing.  I already have one Masters degree, what’s one more? Oh, only a few thousands of dollars more in student loan debt. Meh.

4. What is your biggest fear
-the loss of my children. I never want to outlive them.

5. What is your best moment in life?
– the birth of my two daughters.

6. With New Years fast approaching, do you make resolutions? If so, name one. If not, why don’t you like to make them?
– I don’t. I think you should resolve to be better everyday

7. If you could host a challenge on your blog, what kind would it be?
– one to see who could pay off my student loans the fastest. 😉

8. What was the name of your first pet? What do you remember the most about them?
– it was a cat named Squirrel. In hindsight, kind of a silly name for a feline. I remember as a five year old, I thought it would be neat to see if he could swing. He couldn’t, but he was a superb clawer.

9. Did you ever go to a high school reunion? Was it fun or not?
– I went to my tenth. It was fun. I was such a nerd in high school. People were shocked by how much I had changed. Note, I’m still a nerd, I just dress better.

10. Do you have a pet peeve?
-so many but the main one- rude people. Manners matters. Kindness matters. Validation matters. It take so little to say thank you, you’re welcome, please, etc.

Now for the hard part.
The nominees
There are so many amazing women here. It’s hard to pick only a few. I love you all!

1. Stephanie from http://boldblindbeauty.com/
She’s truly an inspiration.
2. Meg from http://megdekorne.com/ an absolute delight.
3. Sarah from https://thesarahdoughty.wordpress.com/ She writes beautifully
4. L. T. Garvin from https://broussardlana.wordpress.com/ Author and word goddess
5. Sanghamitra from https://sanghamitrachakrabarty.wordpress.com/ Poet and just a lovely human being.
6. Rachel from https://findingrachelsway.wordpress.com/ Her writing is so raw and real.
7. Cooper Cranes https://coppercranes.wordpress.com/ One of my favorite poets on WordPress.

Questions for Nominees

What made you want to start your blog?
2. What have you wanted to do on your blog but haven’t yet? Why not?
3. Name one item on your bucket list, or more if you like?
4. What is your biggest fear?
5. What is your best moment in life?
6. With New Years fast approaching, do you make resolutions? If so, name one. If not, why don’t you like to make them?
7. If you could host a challenge on your blog, what kind would it be?
8. What was the name of your first pet? What do you remember the most about them?
9. Did you ever go to a high school reunion? Was it fun or not?
10. Do you have a pet peeve?

This Year’s Death

Published on by Tosha Michelle32 Comments

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The year’s death is approaching
and my soul is in migration.

The breath of frost lingers
longer with each passing winter.

I sit looking out at the night,
coming down like calendar
pages falling to the floor.

The moon looks like a clock.
The wind whispers “tick tock”

The ghosts of 2015 stumble around in my backyard.

Unfulfilled dreams appear like
oracles at my front door.

I measure my loses.
I count my gains.
I write my life in blue.

Praying for the luminous dawn
of fresh beginning.

Hope diamonds the sky.
I long to dance with starlight
in a tango I’ve never danced

Hipswaying my way across
the galaxy.

Peeling off the last twelve months
like sheets.

The flakes of auld lang syne.
no longer glazing my bowl.

The skeletons of the past
under my feet.

Knowing biography is not fate.
There’s still time for revisions.

My heart quicken by the sun.
My soul renewed.

Bathe in the bright light
of a new year

-Tosha Michelle

I Love the Broken Ones

Published on by Tosha Michelle52 Comments

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Because I am scarred .
I find comfort in the broken ones
The flowers out of season.
The dark mornings.
The delinquent library books.
The residue that slips through.

The ones not half full but fully
shattered. The ones scarred by
bramble.

I fall toward them with open arms .

For those who are lonely, those
wandering city streets, lost.

I pack kindness in a carry on with
imperfections. The bag so full
it’s spilling over.

The challenge of life, making everything fit.

My back aches for all I tote. There
are exits all around me. The gift shop is giving away apathy.

But I’ve purchase humanity’s ticket and I’m not going back.

Realizing life is more than chiffon pie and summer afternoons.

Knowing it isn’t the sky that matters but how we fly through it.

Navigating with a fractured flight map of scars,
counter winds and all.

Compassion our wings
The destination, love.

-Tosha Michelle

Shadows of Death

Published on by Tosha Michelle32 Comments

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The shadow of my dead
grandfather cast itself
in my dreams some
nights.

I see his silhouette
walking down a deserted road.
I follow him for hours. Every
time I quicken my pace to
catch up, he quicken his
faster

There’s always a
ending but never a beginning.
Time refuses to fold back
Translucence wanders endlessly.
Papa’s the light darting through
my eyes.

I wonder if the dead remember?
Maybe in my dream I’m
looking for a clue that they
haven’t forgotten us,
that’s there truly is a spiral staircase to a better place.

Papa keeps moving
The bones stay quiet.
The ash refuses to speak
The moon gives me the dead eye.
What a thing to be so close
but hear no words

The night dissolves.
A squawk of a crow wakes me
My sadness steals the sun.
For now my question
remains unanswered.

-Tosha Michelle

A wonderful video for wonderful people.

Published on by Tosha Michelle8 Comments

This guy. This video. Check it out. It’s transformative. Be sure to follow. If you love language, literature, culture, and guys named Joseph, you won’t be disappointed

Have a great weekend. Make it one to write about.

Dr. Joseph Suglia's avatarSelected Squibs, Scrips, and Essays by Joseph Suglia

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Answering in Lyrical Sighs.

Published on by Tosha Michelle58 Comments

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You don’t understand
my obsession with words,
with pen and paper.

You scoff at my lyrical sighs,
my iambic heartbeat,
my free verse of thought.

You plug your ears
as I read a Shakespearean
sonnet You don’t understand:
lilac dreams, aster stars,
or the need for a backstory.

There’s no money in poetry, you say.
You can’t fathom getting paid
in the sighs of the wind,
in quiet time, in a cathartic release.

You don’t understand
how writing saves me,
how it makes me strong.
This is where I reside best.

I’ll never get the hang of
your card game of monotony.
I’m over middle management.

I’m happy to live
in what you would call
my frivolous obsessions.

I don’t want to be
underwhelmed and uninspired,
somewhere between over the hill,
and the grass is never greener.

You can be the door slamming.
The late hours, the keeping up.
Throw your money at the wall
and call it success.

I’ll sit here with my pen and paper,
listening to the wind,
through the pine trees
releasing the hurricane
beneath my fingers,
and write a poem
about something
you’ll never understand.

-Tosha Michelle

The Sky is Falling.

Published on by Tosha Michelle53 Comments

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If you think you are the
sun, think again.
You are the sky
holding the sun up,
trying to change the world
one dawn at a time.

Even if you don’t have time,
notice the new day.
We are so busy we forget
we’re out of milk.
We forget how we use to
hunger for a fulfilled life.

At first there was vitamin D
in excess, now just deficiency.

We can’t live if we are constantly
trying to escape our reality,
ourselves.

I’m a litany of doubts.
Wondering if I should lower
my expectations.

Maybe I’m still the sun.
Maybe the sky is your
hand.

I remember when our sky of delusions fell.
You spoke to me only in scars.

I’m trying my best to be
your nightcap, your safe route,
your whimsical merry go round.

Imagination echoes
in every chamber.
Hope lingers.

Is it enough?

The sky cries “Forget it”.
Sometimes, we are just lost.

-Tosha Michelle

My latest cover. My friend Danny requested “An American Trilogy” He also requested I sing it sans music. I did my best.

Listen to An American Trilogy (for Danny) by Tosha Michelle 2020 #np on #SoundCloud

She’s

Published on by Tosha Michelle53 Comments

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She ‘s Beatrice and Delilah.
an illusion, a crime

She’s a skyscape that slips
from blue, to grey, to red.

She’s a spider web over
a bank vault.

She’s the pull swirling
in his chest.

She’s a whisper of longing
stuck in his ear.

She’s a wilder life, the sweet
seed, his heart’s core.

She’s a sigh, ragged and
melancholy.

She’s a crushing need
a helix of yearning.

She’s chemistry and anatomy.

She’s the witching hour’s
pleasures of bourbon and sin.

She’s soaked in summer,
spun in contradictions.

She’s a flame grabbing what
it wants, a tumultuous embrace.

She’s a thousand lips bruising
his skin.

She’s a back arching, guttural
moan.

She’s rhythm and release.

She’s as intrusive as a power
outage

She’s as frustrating as a
misstep.

She’s as elusive as spindrift
night.

She’s a woman set in his type,
born in ink, language spilling out.

She’s what he conjugates.
The artistry of his craft

-Tosha Michelle