Featured Poets This Week
Submitted 1 day ago
i have a large circle of friends
young like flower blooming young
youth has entered in their lives
Submitted about 12 hours ago
Omaga the end so it is said !
If so it over or really should we
be glad >
Submitted about 15 hours ago
they smile teeth gleaming
there faces beaming
the little child is dreaming
Submitted about 5 hours ago
Love is tie between souls
To reach respective goals.
Submitted 15 days ago
"Welcome to the Randfontein Library. The time is 15:10 on Thursday, 19 July 2028. Please enter." the voice boomed as I stood on the welcome mat outside the library doors. Suddenly the doors whooshed open and I found myself being moved inside in slow motion.
The sight that greeted me was awesome as I moved along on the moving walkway. For a moment I imagined being on the deck of the Starship Enterprise. "This is supposed to be a library," I thought, "and libraries should contain rows upon rows of books." But not a single book was in sight. They had, in fact, all been replaced by banks of computer monitors and high speed colour laser printers.
When I disembarked at the end of the moving walkway, I found myself confronted by a gigantic, colourful touch screen. "Please enter your selection" a friendly voice requested. I nervously raised my hand and gently touched the '16th Century English Literature' button. The voice directed me to the location and I soon found myself at the door of an old castle. I stepped cautiously inside. Beyond the doors, cubicles were arranged on either side of the hallway.
I approached the cubicle marked 'Playwrights' and moved inside. The cubicle was sparsely furnished with only a computer monitor and a chair. I proceeded to the monitor and read the menu. "Please make your selection" another voice requested. I quickly sat down and touched the 'Shakespeare' button.
The sight that followed was unbelievable! There he was, large as life and smiling down at me. "What is your pleasure, m'lady?" he enquired, raising his eyebrows and stroking his bearded chin. Nervously I stuttered: "Mr Shakespeare, I would like to ask you a few questions, if I may?" "Why, certainly, my dear," he replied as he motioned me further into the cubicle.
"Sir," I began, "please tell me more about yourself and your works," I asked, now feeling a little more at ease.
"I was born at Stratford-on-Avon on 26 April 1564. I was the son of a poor glove maker and wool dealer, but I was a bright lad, and eventually made my way to London. I always wanted to be a great playwright, and worked really hard towards becoming one. I wrote comedies like 'All's Well that Ends Well', 'As you like it', 'The Merry Wives of Windsor', 'The Merchant of Venice' and 'The Twelfth Night', to mention but a few. Then I tried my hand at writing histories on famous people like 'Richard III' and 'Henry V'. Personally, my favourite was 'King John'. It gave me an enormous amount of pleasure writing about a man as noble as he," he laughed cynically. "Seriously, though, I was the author of 37 full length plays, 157 sonnets, dozens of poems and was an actor too!"
"Ah, and then came the tragedies. No doubt you know 'Romeo and Juliet'?"
"Yes," I replied, "that's my favourite".
He continued: "What about 'Hamlet' and 'Macbeth', and don't forget 'Anthony and Cleopatra'. Sad, don't you think?"
Before I could reply, he went ahead: "Do you know that after my death in 1616, some folks started a rumour that I was a fraud and actually took the works of the seventeenth Earl of Oxford and asked my dear friend Richard Field to publish them under my name? What a laugh!" he exclaimed and I noticed that his receding hairline was becoming a little flushed. "This must be upsetting to him," I thought.
"Mr Shakespeare, sir, I do not intend to be rude, but I have to go now," I told him as I glanced at my wristwatch, "but I will be back again. It has been such a tremendous pleasure spending time with you, and I have learnt so much".
"I will always be here, Child," he said smiling. "We'll continue at the very next opportunity".
I turned to go and as I exited from the cubicle, I took one more glance, but he was no longer there.
"Boy!" I smiled to myself, "these holograms are just so real!"
Submitted about 17 hours ago
Submitted about 10 hours ago
Upon an altar dripped only blood.
That flowed from the heart torn all apart.
Submitted about 1 hour ago
I really don't care
If it rained upon your lips of lies
For the maple leaf beauty will fall in its Autumn's season
And the thought of you will be no reason
Nothing near of you to touch or kiss
For the autumn nights will cool my soul to bliss
The scented vapour of the falling secrets
Will hide my tears if much or any
While the fire place burns a flame of warmth
To keep my face of my life in grace
The wine I sip will be not you or misses
But a beautiful sight now to my delightful sighs
No telling tales or your lies to my heart
For I am simply loving this Autumn's night