Archives For Poetry

Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare


ACT III, SCENE III. The garden of the castle.

Not a jot, not a jot.

I’ faith, I fear it has.
I hope you will consider what is spoke
Comes from my love. But I do see you’re moved:
I am to pray you not to strain my speech
To grosser issues nor to larger reach
Than to suspicion.

I will not.

Should you do so, my lord,
My speech should fall into such vile success
As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio’s my worthy friend–
My lord, I see you’re moved.

No, not much moved:
I do not think but Desdemona’s honest.

Long live she so! and long live you to think so!

And yet, how nature erring from itself,–

Ay, there’s the point: as–to be bold with you–
Not to affect many proposed matches
Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
Whereto we see in all things nature tends–
Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank,
Foul disproportion thoughts unnatural.
But pardon me; I do not in position
Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms
And happily repent.

Farewell, farewell:
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, Iago:

[Going] My lord, I take my leave.

Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless
Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.

[Returning] My lord, I would I might entreat
your honour
To scan this thing no further; leave it to time:
Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,
For sure, he fills it up with great ability,
Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,
You shall by that perceive him and his means:
Note, if your lady strain his entertainment
With any strong or vehement importunity;
Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,
Let me be thought too busy in my fears–
As worthy cause I have to fear I am–
And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.

Fear not my government.

I once more take my leave.


This fellow’s of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,
Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,
Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,
I’ld whistle her off and let her down the wind,
To pray at fortune. Haply, for I am black
And have not those soft parts of conversation
That chamberers have, or for I am declined
Into the vale of years,–yet that’s not much–
She’s gone. I am abused; and my relief
Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,
That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,
Than keep a corner in the thing I love
For others’ uses. Yet, ’tis the plague of great ones;
Prerogatived are they less than the base;
‘Tis destiny unshunnable, like death:
Even then this forked plague is fated to us
When we do quicken. Desdemona comes:


If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!
I’ll not believe’t.

How now, my dear Othello!
Your dinner, and the generous islanders
By you invited, do attend your presence.

I am to blame.

Why do you speak so faintly?
Are you not well?

I have a pain upon my forehead here.

‘Faith, that’s with watching; ’twill away again:
Let me but bind it hard, within this hour
It will be well.

Your napkin is too little:

He puts the handkerchief from him; and it drops

Let it alone. Come, I’ll go in with you.

I am very sorry that you are not well.


I am glad I have found this napkin:
This was her first remembrance from the Moor:
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Woo’d me to steal it; but she so loves the token,
For he conjured her she should ever keep it,
That she reserves it evermore about her
To kiss and talk to. I’ll have the work ta’en out,
And give’t Iago: what he will do with it
Heaven knows, not I;
I nothing but to please his fantasy.

Re-enter Iago

How now! what do you here alone?

Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.

A thing for me? it is a common thing–


To have a foolish wife.

O, is that all? What will you give me now
For the same handkerchief?

What handkerchief?

What handkerchief?
Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;
That which so often you did bid me steal.

Hast stol’n it from her?

No, ‘faith; she let it drop by negligence.
And, to the advantage, I, being here, took’t up.
Look, here it is.

A good wench; give it me.

What will you do with ‘t, that you have been
so earnest
To have me filch it?

[Snatching it] Why, what’s that to you?

If it be not for some purpose of import,
Give’t me again: poor lady, she’ll run mad
When she shall lack it.

Be not acknown on ‘t; I have use for it.
Go, leave me.


I will in Cassio’s lodging lose this napkin,
And let him find it. Trifles light as air
Are to the jealous confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ: this may do something.
The Moor already changes with my poison:
Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons.
Which at the first are scarce found to distaste,
But with a little act upon the blood.
Burn like the mines of Sulphur. I did say so:
Look, where he comes!


On 10/09/15 – Join me for more fun with Shakespeare

Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare


ACT III, SCENE III. The garden of the castle.

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.

My noble lord–

What dost thou say, Iago?

Did Michael Cassio, when you woo’d my lady,
Know of your love?

He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask?

But for a satisfaction of my thought;
No further harm.

Why of thy thought, Iago?

I did not think he had been acquainted with her.

O, yes; and went between us very oft.


Indeed! ay, indeed: discern’st thou aught in that?
Is he not honest?

Honest, my lord!

Honest! ay, honest.

My lord, for aught I know.

What dost thou think?

Think, my lord!

Think, my lord!
By heaven, he echoes me,
As if there were some monster in his thought
Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something:
I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that,
When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like?
And when I told thee he was of my counsel
In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst ‘Indeed!’
And didst contract and purse thy brow together,
As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,
Show me thy thought.

My lord, you know I love you.

I think thou dost;
And, for I know thou’rt full of love and honesty,
And weigh’st thy words before thou givest them breath,
Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more:
For such things in a false disloyal knave
Are tricks of custom, but in a man that’s just
They are close delations, working from the heart
That passion cannot rule.

For Michael Cassio,
I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.

I think so too.

Men should be what they seem;
Or those that be not, would they might seem none!

Certain, men should be what they seem.

Why, then, I think Cassio’s an honest man.

Nay, yet there’s more in this:
I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,
As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts
The worst of words.

Good my lord, pardon me:
Though I am bound to every act of duty,
I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false;
As where’s that palace whereinto foul things
Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,
But some uncleanly apprehensions
Keep leets and law-days and in session sit
With meditations lawful?

Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
If thou but think’st him wrong’d and makest his ear
A stranger to thy thoughts.

I do beseech you–
Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,
As, I confess, it is my nature’s plague
To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not–that your wisdom yet,
From one that so imperfectly conceits,
Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble
Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
It were not for your quiet nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,
To let you know my thoughts.

What dost thou mean?

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls:
Who steals my purse steals trash; ’tis something, nothing;
‘Twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thousands:
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.

By heaven, I’ll know thy thoughts.

You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
Nor shall not, whilst ’tis in my custody.


O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But, O, what damned minutes tells he o’er
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!

O misery!

Poor and content is rich and rich enough,
But riches fineless is as poor as winter
To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!

Why, why is this?
Think’st thou I’ld make a lie of jealousy,
To follow still the changes of the moon
With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt
Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat,
When I shall turn the business of my soul
To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,
Matching thy inference. ‘Tis not to make me jealous
To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well;
Where virtue is, these are more virtuous:
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt;
For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago;
I’ll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;
And on the proof, there is no more but this,–
Away at once with love or jealousy!

I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason
To show the love and duty that I bear you
With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound,
Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.
Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;
Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure:
I would not have your free and noble nature,
Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to’t:
I know our country disposition well;
In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks
They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience
Is not to leave’t undone, but keep’t unknown.

Dost thou say so?

She did deceive her father, marrying you;
And when she seem’d to shake and fear your looks,
She loved them most.

And so she did.

Why, go to then;
She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,
To seal her father’s eyes up close as oak-
He thought ’twas witchcraft–but I am much to blame;
I humbly do beseech you of your pardon
For too much loving you.

I am bound to thee for ever.

I see this hath a little dash’d your spirits.

On 10/08/15 – Join me for more fun with Shakespeare


 When I Look Into Your Eyes©

Copyright 1997, 2015

By Felina Silver Robinson


I see so much hope for life

The dreams ahead yet unfulfilled

The meaning of your life

When I look into your eyes

I see me wanting you

And you wanting me

I see the future without end

I see love and peace

When I look into your eyes

getting old2


When I Get Old©

Copyright 2013

By Felina Silver Robinson


When I get old

will you still know me

Will you still care

Will you still stop on the street to talk to me

Will you still offer me a ride home

Will you still care enough to spend some time

When I get old

Will you still hold me

Will you still love me

Will you still respect me

Will you still trust me

When I get old

will you care when I’m no longer there


The Land Above And The Land Below©

Copyright 2013

By Felina Silver Robinson


Death knocks at the door of the wicked

Death knocks at the door of the innocent

Spirits beckon for answers but no one responds

Can you hear me they call out

They’re lost in the swirls of deception

No one comes to lead them to destiny

Wait, an angel appears for the innocent

A creäture of sorts for the wicked

The good go up

And the wicked go down

Promises made

Promises broken

No one is certain what lies ahead now

Stories told

May not be the life you are now living

Stay honest

Stay true

Only good can come to you

Here or there

Sins still follows

Best beware

Someones still always watching

Both in the land above

and the land below

Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare


ACT III, SCENE II. A room in the castle.

Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Gentlemen

These letters give, Iago, to the pilot;
And by him do my duties to the senate:
That done, I will be walking on the works;
Repair there to me.

Well, my good lord, I’ll do’t.

This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see’t?

We’ll wait upon your lordship.


SCENE III. The garden of the castle.


Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do
All my abilities in thy behalf.

Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband,
As if the case were his.

O, that’s an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio,
But I will have my lord and you again
As friendly as you were.

Bounteous madam,
Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,
He’s never any thing but your true servant.

I know’t; I thank you. You do love my lord:
You have known him long; and be you well assured
He shall in strangeness stand no further off
Than in a polite distance.

Ay, but, lady,
That policy may either last so long,
Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
Or breed itself so out of circumstance,
That, I being absent and my place supplied,
My general will forget my love and service.

Do not doubt that; before Emilia here
I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee,
If I do vow a friendship, I’ll perform it
To the last article: my lord shall never rest;
I’ll watch him tame and talk him out of patience;
His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;
I’ll intermingle every thing he does
With Cassio’s suit: therefore be merry, Cassio;
For thy solicitor shall rather die
Than give thy cause away.

Madam, here comes my lord.

Madam, I’ll take my leave.

Why, stay, and hear me speak.

Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease,
Unfit for mine own purposes.

Well, do your discretion.



Ha! I like not that.

What dost thou say?

Nothing, my lord: or if–I know not what.

Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?

Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it,
That he would steal away so guilty-like,
Seeing you coming.

I do believe ’twas he.

How now, my lord!
I have been talking with a suitor here,
A man that languishes in your displeasure.

Who is’t you mean?

Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord,
If I have any grace or power to move you,
His present reconciliation take;
For if he be not one that truly loves you,
That errs in ignorance and not in cunning,
I have no judgment in an honest face:
I prithee, call him back.

Went he hence now?

Ay, sooth; so humbled
That he hath left part of his grief with me,
To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.

Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time.

But shall’t be shortly?

The sooner, sweet, for you.

Shall’t be to-night at supper?

No, not to-night.

To-morrow dinner, then?

I shall not dine at home;
I meet the captains at the citadel.

Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn;
On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn:
I prithee, name the time, but let it not
Exceed three days: in faith, he’s penitent;
And yet his trespass, in our common reason–
Save that, they say, the wars must make examples
Out of their best–is not almost a fault
To incur a private cheque. When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,
What you would ask me, that I should deny,
Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio,
That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time,
When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,
Hath ta’en your part; to have so much to do
To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,–

Prithee, no more: let him come when he will;
I will deny thee nothing.

Why, this is not a boon;
‘Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,
Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit
To your own person: nay, when I have a suit
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poise and difficult weight
And fearful to be granted.

I will deny thee nothing:
Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
To leave me but a little to myself.

Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord.

Farewell, my Desdemona: I’ll come to thee straight.

Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you;
Whate’er you be, I am obedient.


On 10/07/15 – Join me for more fun with Shakespeare


I Have A Vision For Tomorrow …©

Copyright 2014

Felina Silver Robinson


I have a vision for tomorrow that doesn’t include violence.
It doesn’t include intimidation or a culture of brainwashing.
My vision is for individualism and free thinking people who don’t have or need to follow the destructive decisions of a smaller majority of unhappy people.
I choose to stand proud and do things that will be remembered for the good they were meant to do.
Those who bore me and those who look up to me will see the good and forgive any imperfections.
I wish to prove that good choices and good actions will be followed and will wipe out all the bad choices of others.
When I open my eyes I will see good in all people and will no longer be sad.
I have a vision….