When answers come today it’s not to be
a thin white duke, a purple prince; a year
the music died (again); in haze it’s seen
comparing to a summer’s day how near
to love a memory of voices grace
our hearts, how words and songs infest
and linger; legacy still interlaced
in every love, in every death a test
as Shakespeare always wrote a script
or poem to reflect today what’s felt.
and we can n ever change, decrypt
our language of his traces (phrases) left.
As now we’re left to sorrow afterwards
As artists leave we still recall the bard.
Procession of Characters from Shakespeare plays (unknown artist)
Today Kerry inspires us to write in memory of Shakespeare’s death about the line or work that we would never take away at toads. This got me to reflect how difficult it would be. Sometimes I even think that English how different language would be if he had not been. Can you see a balcony without thinking of Juliet? Of course I had to write a Shakespearean sonnet for this, but I also wanted to other artists that have died more recently such as Buddy Holly, David Bowie and Prince.
Björn Rudbergs writings 
I see you and I have been having similar thoughts this week, of deaths and entrances. I love your sonnet, as much for its form as the testament to the lifetime achievements of those artists whose voices speak of an age and for all time.
I think you wrote this very well and used great metaphors
Much enjoyed, Bjorn==I can’t make the comparisons quite between Shakespeare and the most recent artists–and yet your point of the loss of art and artists and their legacy and songs is so well taken and expressed here. Thanks. k.
Your verse is oh so touching – a wonderful tribute to all who have passed. Beautifully executed.
Love how you tie the deaths of many different artists together. Each time a writer/singer/etc. dies, something is lost to the world.
“a year
the music died (again)” — this nearly brought me to tears.
Which is a reference to Buddy Holly from American Pie
Yes, I know. It’s the use of “a” year (instead of “the”), and the “(again)” that got me. So good.
Yes, this got me as well!
“how words and songs infest
and linger;” How true your words are – I enjoyed them all. There are many we will never forget,,
I like in this the sense in which the great artists who’ve died stay with us, as Shakespeare lingers in our language.
this is just incredibly beautiful. a fitting eulogy of hope for all the masters of words who have come before us and left their mark on much loved languages.
again with the perfect 14-liner. will wonders never cease? I am amazed by such poets who write sonnets.
I like the subtle cultural references that are brilliantly interlaced (a purple prince) throughout in a timeless way but that have huge emotional impact.
An excellent tribute to them all!
Love the reflection on the year when music died again. Somehow, that connects all these artists in your poem and gives them dignity.
A timely sonnet pinned against the contribution of a timeless artist – beautifully layered.
beautiful tribute to beautiful artists
a thin white duke a purple prince
a year the music died to love a
memory of voices graces our hearts
Been somewhat a bad year as far as pop icons go. Got to get used to their absence the same way when Elvis and Michael Jackson left us.
Hank
Such a great sonnet–‘in every death a test’ indeed–of memory and of content and of our own hearts–the saddest thing for me is how the deaths are more celebrated than the lives–that we take the life and its gifts for granted, and then suddenly when there can be no more, we look at what was given with appreciative eyes.
No kidding, no kidding. Gah, I am having a tough time of all this. I admire your sonnet. Beautiful.
Infest is such a great way to think of how a song can become a part of our dna.
There’s so much truth to your poem, Bjorn. I’m so glad you brought Prince to this piece. Touching indeed.
A lovely tribute to the Bard, Bjorn. 🙂 — Suzanne
I think you combined a tribute for several artists very well, and it is amazing that you also honored the form. Indeed, it is hard to see a balcony and not remember Juliet, same way it is hard to be in love and not quote Hamlet (at least for me!)
Gah, this is AWESOME!