Waxing Poetic: They All Want to Play Hamlet by Carl Sandburg

 

     As promised, this is part 2 of our Carl Sandburg spotlight. We divided it into two parts mostly because we couldn't decide which of the two poems to include. The following poem isn't one of his best known or even his best, but it is one of our favorites.

They All Want to Play Hamlet 

They all want to play Hamlet.
They have not exactly seen their fathers killed
Nor their mothers in a frame-up to kill,
Nor an Ophelia lying with dust gagging the heart,
Not exactly the spinning circles of singing golden spiders,
Not exactly this have they got at nor the meaning of flowers--O flowers, flowers slung by a dancing girl--in the saddest play the inkfish, Shakespeare ever wrote;
Yet they all want to play Hamlet because it is sad like all actors are sad and to stand by an open grave with a joker's skull in the hand and then to say over slow and over slow wise, keen, beautiful words asking the heart that's breaking, breaking,
This is something that calls and calls to their blood.
They are acting when they talk about it and they know it is acting to be particular about it and yet: They all want to play Hamlet.

     Aside from reminding us of Shakespeare's Hamlet, this poem never fails to remind us of one of our all-time favorite literary TV series, Slings & Arrows. If you're not familiar with this show about a theatre festival, we highly recommend it and will even provide a clip for you. 

Since there have been problems viewing this first video in the UK, we've added this one:



And while we're at it, here's the theme from series 1:

Waxing Poetic: Dreams in the Dusk by Carl Sandburg

 

     Most people are more familiar with Carl Sandburg's poems "Chicago" and "Fog." This is one of his lesser known poems and my favorite.

Dreams in the Dusk

Dreams in the dusk,
Only dreams closing the day
And with the day’s close going back
To the gray things, the dark things,
The far, deep things of dreamland.

Dreams, only dreams in the dusk,
Only the old remembered pictures
Of lost days when the day’s loss
Wrote in tears the heart’s loss.

Tears and loss and broken dreams
May find your heart at dusk.

     A few years ago, we visited Flat Rock, North Carolina where Sandburg lived in the later years of his life. The Carl Sandburg Home is called Connemara and is a National Historic Site. He lived there with his wife, Lillian (whom he called Paula).

     The house is in a peaceful setting overlooking a pond. I can imagine him sitting on the porch and composing this poem as night fell.

     "Paula" Sandburg also raised goats on Connemara. They are still there today (not the same ones!) and are very photogenic.

     We have more pictures of the Connemara Farm for you to see on Flickr.

Note: this is part 1 of a two-part spotlight on Carl Sandburg. Look for part 2 next week!