So, on days when I don't have five hours to sacrifice for my art, I try to beat the Brain Freeze Blues by taking an author I love, and using their writing style to create something of my own. The below is my version of the beginning of The Canterbury Tales* which I wrote at one such moment in college. It follows a similar rhyme scheme, and without using too archaic of language, I also tried to bring in Chaucer's voice. In the original, I love how the naive Pilgrim captures the truth of people through their supposed intentions versus their actual actions. I hoped I've accurately captured a bit of that here.
*If you haven't read the actual Prologue before, but would like to, you can find it at CanterburyTales.org. They provide both a Middle English version and a nice translation into Modern English.
Madison Melodies
In the midst of March’s mad mysterious weather,
When the surface of the Earth sparkles with snow
From the frozen tears of God’s February skies
And the ground still groans in anguished slumber
And any number of animals, small and tall
Wander down between the willows for warmth at night
At this cold heartless time of year is when
People challenge themselves to do others charity
On such days when the sun slumbers and forgets to shine.
It was on just such a day as this
That I sat at a bench atop of stairs
In the merry Memorial Union of Madison
Waiting for the bus to take me to Tennessee
I had opened my heart to help habitat the homeless
On my journey I was to be joined in my generosities
With other people who wanted to help the weary
One by one they occurred upon the spot I sat
Before I begin brandishing this collaborative biography
I’ll observe this as an opportunity to talk of each person
For I feel it is only affable for me to inform you
With a description of their dress and disposition
And to state their status and studies for your speculation
The first of the group was a Professor of Science
Talent and tenacity got him tenure at the university
Although students sought to avoid participating in his courses
And were angered by his unmanageable assignments
He had organized this humble trip to help society
His money was not spent on modern materialism
Using his cash on only his own necessary needs
Such as quenching the thirst of his throat
Fumbling for a Franklin he purchased himself refreshment
Then displaying himself and his designer suit and tie
Sitting with his knees crossed and nose raised high
Reading for rehearsal his written words and phrases
For the lectures he delivered from Yale to Berkeley, undoubtedly,
I inferred it contained his definition of immense intellect
Being that his name was blatantly BOLDED on the front page
Elite witnesses of his wisdom felt immense awe
The less educated fell catatonic from confusion
This is, however, hearsay, I have not heard him speak myself
With him he happened to bring his son
A med student by all prosperity and appearance
His own intervals of intelligence being unparalleled
Were defined by their tendency to steadily decline
Despite the assistance of mentors presented to him
His look was in likeness to his father by mere obligation
But peeking from below his straight pressed pant leg
His sense of independence or insecurity was deceived
I could not identify any difference of these looks on his face
His eyes always squinted in focus like by perpetual sunlight
But his shiny shoes displayed a white sock with a swoosh
Common knowledge spoke of his late night escapades
Where his book bags remained barren compared to his bed
Which was wide open; a fair way to relieve school’s stress
And of his stench when he happened to pass by me
It could smell only of last night’s sweat and swaggers
Sitting nearest to the professor and his son
Appeared another of high regard, a woman learning law
Casually with sultry effort, she readjusted her position
She placed one leg over the other to lean close to the professor
Considering my location across from her chair
I dare not deduce what was said during their discourse
I only assume by the rapid movements of their lips and looks
And the mutual intellect, that their breath whispered wisdoms
Her strong and shifting hands went to the tip of her short skirt
Comfortably she adjusted it, either to get or deter attention
I cannot comment on her intentions confidently
Her mouth promised to provide a sound both pretty and petite
But when she spoke it outstretched to every open space
She was known to enjoy the company of her professors
This vigilant studying in all virtue, verified her high evaluations
Even after all the hours she applied to her education
As a philanthropist few could be favored above her
Evening upon evening she entertained the elderly
This would indeed assist her with obtaining high regard
And her applications for schools would not object
(Please excuse any oddities, it has been a while since I've re-read this, and it still a work in progress.)
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