There is a particular intimidation that comes with William Shakespeare. His iambic pentameter sits like a fortress, unassailable and perfect, often silencing modern writers before they even uncap their pens. The Society of Classical Poets, however, suggests a different approach to the master: theft.
In their “Line of Shakespeare” poetry contest, the rules flip the script on reverence. Instead of studying the plays from a distance, you are asked to inhabit them, if only for a moment.
The Mechanics of the Echo
The premise is deceptively simple, requiring less ink than a haiku but perhaps more wit. You must write a short poem—specifically two to four lines long—that begins with exactly one line from any Shakespearean play or sonnet.
The challenge lies in the pivot. You start with the Elizabethan weight of Hamlet or The Tempest, and then you must immediately swerve into your own voice. It forces a conversation across centuries. You are not just quoting; you are answering.
A bust of Shakespeare against a parchment background
Brevity and Wit
The contest encourages a specific kind of literary agility. Long, rambling stanzas are forbidden. You have a maximum of four lines to set the scene, twist the meaning, and land the punchline.
Consider the example provided by Joe Tessitore, the mind behind the contest concept. He takes Polonius’s famous declaration and drags it straight into the modern gutter—or rather, the bathroom:
In the Toilet
Brevity is the soul of wit,
yet on my brains I choose to sit,
long-winded, (here a pun, methinks!).
Small wonder, then, such humor stinks!
The friction between the high language of the opening line and the earthy resolution of the rhyming couplet creates the spark. It proves that the Bard does not need to be kept behind glass.
The Spoils of Verse
While the exercise itself sharpens the mind, the stakes in this competition were tangible. Winners received $100, a sum that perhaps buys less sack and capon than it used to, but remains a validation of skill.
More fittingly, the victor also claimed a William Shakespeare pen. There is something poetically just about writing one’s own verses with an instrument bearing the image of the man whose line you just borrowed.
A close-up of the William Shakespeare pen prize
A World of Voices
The entry requirements stripped away barriers. No entry fee was demanded. Geography was no obstacle; poets from Denver to New York, and international writers with a PayPal account, were welcomed into the fold.
Advisory Board members and selected poets took on the role of judges, sifting through hundreds of submissions where Romeo and Juliet met modern romance, or Macbeth collided with office politics. It serves as a reminder that while the English language has evolved, the human impulse to play with words remains stubbornly, delightfully unchanged.
A bust of Shakespeare against a parchment background
A close-up of the William Shakespeare pen prize
