[Newspoetry] Who is this enigma Shakespeare?

[Donald L Emerick]

http://www.nytimes.com/2002/02/10/arts/theater/10NIED.html?todaysheadlines

A Historic Whodunit: If Shakespeare Didn't, Who Did?
By WILLIAM S. NIEDERKORN
February 10, 2002 -- New York Times
It was not the Bard of Stratford-on- Avon. It was Edward de Vere, the 17th
Earl of Oxford.
For Oxfordians, this is the answer to "Who Wrote Shakespeare?"...

<Rest of story erased,
for which I append these "thoughts"
(words, maybe thought).  (DLE)>
*************************************************************

Who is this enigma Shakespeare?
How could you ask that question?

I recall reading some philosophy texts
That chatter identity as terms of reference,
As phrases "Morning Star" & "Evening Star"
For which, objectively, we (now) know
There could only be one heavenly body,
One extra-terrestrial thing, not even a Star...
But a planet, like any other servant of Stars.

And later on, or at the same time --
For there is no time to logic, itself,
Time would be too remote from logic,
Time would introduce a com-motion,
Be dynamic and cause some physics,
While logic is only of entities of state,
Postulated beings, a taking of givens,
For which constructivist taxonomy
Is the whole of a science, of itself --
We find this unity-nominality problem,
Of sameness of entity,
Difference of reference,
Sameness of reference,
Difference of entities --
For function and form gripe and recurse
On their origins in each other's primality --
In the question of Who was Caesar,
Or Who was some historical Jesus,
or Who was some legendary Moses.

The question of "Who is X" pre-figures
That every X is somewhat of some what.
This makes it difficult for us to perceive
Underlying questions of "Who is 'I am'?"
A thing is to be known by its properties,
How it appears to some me, somewhat,
As some random collection of effects --
Some of which I may find how to echo:
"Oh, look at me, when I prod this thing,
It looks disturbed -- snarls back at me."
Science -- disturbing equalities of order
And quiet repose -- is mentally disturbed
Or else it would be asking no questions.
Why wonder that our friend Descartes
Disturbed his private self, to find himself,
Only being could take itself into hand,
And, so disturbed, famously speak thus:
"I answer 'Who I am?' 'Who I think I am.'"
Freely, I am what I do; I think, so I am.

By that token of functioning being,
Shakespeare is one writing of plays
That have certain kinds of question:
He forms plays as working answers.
.
Whoever that person was is dead
According to dark cults of mortality.
That person will not write another play.
That person will not rise to claim credit.
That person will not be known to peers.
"Who I am" has no answers for others.

What, then?  Why play this parlor game,
To mean a "who" when no one is there?

For all that I could possibly care,
The plays are truly what is left,
What is essentially given to me.
The plays are all that there is
That I would ever care about.
Without such plays in my hand,
"Who would be S or X" is void,
Lacks necessity for evidence,
Lacks evidence of necessity.

Hence, Shakespeare could not be dead
Unless no one acts that way any more,
Unless no one thinks that way anymore,
Unless the plays are not the thing, itself.
And, Shakespeare has already declared
A great potential for immortality just so,
As long as you and I live in such plays.

I could go on to prove to you every point --
That Shakespeare is our God by Virtue
Of an irrefutable precise correspondence
Between every such aspect of references.
"Two" Stars differently manifest One Entity,
Who could also, by odd ways, be you as I.

Thanks for listening.
Donald L Emerick