The Dull-Witted Dullard's Guide to Sonnet 110

Introduction: "Working late at the office"

Have you ever woken up at 5 a.m. with a really bad feeling you'd done something stupid three hours ago? Ever made a bad decision and knew while making it you'd regret it? And then had an overwhelming desire to write a poem about it? And then used that poem to make up with whomever you'd offended? So did Bill Shakespeare.

What the sonnet really means

Alas, 'tis true I have gone here and there
And made myself a motley to the view,
Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,
Made old offences of affections new;

In May of 1599, the poet attended an office party, where he made himself a "motley" by wearing a lampshade and boogeying to the tune of "Heigh Ho Holiday." He also "made an offense" with the new temp, thereby cheating on his one true love (with whom he'd actually already betrayed his wife Anne Hathaway, his marriage with whom was in all likelihood the result of another bad decision. But none of that could possibly matter less...).

Most true it is that I have look'd on truth
Askance and strangely: but, by all above,
These blenches gave my heart another youth,
And worse essays proved thee my best of love.

The speaker cops to fooling around but realizes that this tawdry, adventurous, strangely enticing little romp in the back break room actually "proved thee [his girlfriend] my best of love." See, guys don't know how good they've got it without something to compare it with. It's only natural. Besides, we...honey, where are you going? Oh, I wasn't talking about me! Come on, don't look at me like that...

Now all is done, have what shall have no end:
Mine appetite I never more will grind
On newer proof, to try an older friend,
A god in love, to whom I am confined.

The speaker, after sleeping outside on the porch for the night and leaving dozens of messages, professes that he never will "grind" on his appetite. Most likely, "grind" called up an unfortunate image in the mistress' mind, and the speaker had a chamber pot thrown at his head before reassuring her he was "confined" to her, a choice of words all but certain to warm her heart and open the front door.

Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,
Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.

The speaker figures that, now that everything is forgotten and forgiven, she can come over and give him a cuddle. At least until eight, when he has to leave for drinks with the new secretarial pool.

Major Lit Devices

• "A god in love"--allusion. And a dangerous one. The mistress is a god who has the power to deliver atonement, or hurl a thunderbolt of her own and give him a bad case of the crabs.

The Deeper Meaning

Fellas, don't try this at home. It didn't work during the Renaissance. It doesn't work now. If you get caught and run away, don't look back. You got lucky.

The Idiotic Idiot's Guide to Shakespeare's Sonnet 100

Introduction: Muse me, Baby!

In Shakespeare's time, poets often turned to their own private Muse to invoke inspiration in order to assist them in composition and get them chicks. Like many of his contemporaries, Shakespeare's Muse consisted of four jugs of potted ale and the famous Laced Curtain bordello in Southwark. Sonnet 100, however, laments his inability to write, so we can logically guess that Doll Spreadbutter was a bitter disappointment to the young poet the night before.

What the sonnet really means

Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?

Here, the speaker bitterly recriminates his Muse for not having returned any of his phone calls or text messages. The speaker defines "that which gives thee all thy might" later on as his girlfriend, which is a nice circumvention of his own to be used when his girlfriend bitches to him about "that poem you promised to write me, which you're working on, which is why you couldn't come over last night to meet my parents."

Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?

The speaker now chastises his Muse for spending too much time inspiring second-rate authors, political writers and boy bands.

Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
And gives thy pen both skill and argument.

After these accusations, the speaker pretty much lays out a reconciliation with his Muse: "Baby, I forgive you. Wherever you've been, whatever you've been doing, come back to me. I know you. We were meant for each other. Plus, I'm really hungry and need to make some rent money like right now."

Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey,
If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
If any, be a satire to decay,
And make Time's spoils despised every where.

Since the speaker needs the Muse to inspire him to write about his love, the first thing he asks is for the Muse to look her over. Check out her face and form. You haven't seen her in a while, so, be honest: Is she wrinkled? Has she gained any weight? Did she slab any makeup on those pox scars of hers yet or is she still flashing them around?

Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;
So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife.

The speaker closes the poem declaring that if his inspiration comes in time, he can immortalize his true love in verse, forever. Like that one girl in that Clapton song, or...that other one in that thing by what's-his-face.

Major Lit Devices

• "worthless song" is clearly an allusion to "Impossible Grave," by Elizabethan-era boy band Bullets in Madison. It's unsettling how Shakespeare can always nail le mot juste, regardless of what time period he's in.
• "my love's sweet face"--euphemism. Shakespeare had to stretch the truth a bit here. Most of the women he knew, as previously alluded to, had faces pocked like a lunar crater. When he couldn't shove a bag over her head, he tended to picture the Holy Maid of Kent.

The Deeper Meaning

Any time you've missed a deadline, there's always a way to pass the buck. Also, writing poems about how you can't write poems is one way to write a poem.