Read Poem: History, by Lemon D

The doorbell rings, I roll my eyes.
“Send him in,” I say with a sigh.
My housekeeper rushes to open the door
And who could it be but Henry 4!
He rushes in and clatters the coat rack,
Bursts into my study and bellows, “Alack!”
I raise both eyebrows and twirl around.
“All right, sirrah, what has you downed?”
The English king—or is he a duke?—
Yells, “Lemon, do ye think I’m a kook?”
I frown and open my mouth to speak,
But he bulldozes past me (rather yeek).
“The people, they say that I’m an usurper!”
“You are,” I state, “or at least you were.
But why are you so worried and frayed?
It’s not like you’re in a Shakespeare play.”
At this, he gives me a glance of confusion,
And I realize with the utmost profusion
The playwright lived after this fink
And never met him, or so I think!
For Shakespeare bursts in through the door,
Shouts, “Lemon, come, I need you for
This confusing conundrum called Sejong!”
Two men enter, then comes, “Ding dong!”

And I am accosted by another one!
A female, now, who looks so done.
The men are silent as they stare.
Halicarnassus’ queen has entered here.
“Oracle, tell me,” the queen commands,
“I am in love and I must understand
How does one fall out of romance?”
Eyebrows up. “Jump off Leucas.”
Before I mutter I was being sarcastic
The queen leaves, oh how fantastic!
“Stop—” But then comes another ring
“No, don’t—” My housekeeper lets ’em in.

A flurry of men overwhelm my ears,
Something about a recollecting years?
“Dost thou dare intrude my land?”
King Henry bellows, dark but bland.
Sejong says something, equally irked.
Shakespeare writes this, I know he smirked!
A hideous goblin—oh, I meant Socrates—
Lectures his students on what he sees,
But before he can follow with geometry
Another enters, with his mustachery.
It’s Marx and he looks much too pleased.
He finished the book I said was diseased….
Well, I ponder, it’s just as well—
Now women decide to intrude and dwell!

A coughing woman wittingly snarks
On her society’s terrible sharks.
Sanditon is the book she holds.
“Austen, get out, you AND your cold!”
She ignores me, as does Marie Curie.
Is that Lovelace on a counting spree?
The room is crowded, talking, laugh—
“ALL BE QUITE!!” My throat is chaff.
The noise dies down and at me they look.
“Did you say quite?” Shakey says, shook.

I’m mad right now, as you can tell.
So I grab my wand and loudly yell,
“By Merlin’s beard and Harry’s scar,
Get out before I SEND YOU AFAR
To Dante’s inferno or Mordor’s gates
Or I will kill you, NO MORE DEBATES!”
Now they fear me, I laugh in power,
“Go before I lock you in a tower!”
And blessedly, they all disappear.
Oh, finally, the room is so clear!
Well, it’s messy, papers everywhere.
But no more people, which is incredibly rare.

But then I hear a most hideous cry,
“Lemon, my dear darling up high?”
I swallow, wonder, where can I hide?
But the monster—welp, I already died!
It towers over the desk I hide under,
Peers down to give me a look of wonder.
I smile and wave, broken wand at hand,
Or was it just a pencil of a cheap brand?
The creature glares and bids me stand.
I can only obey, my fear is too grand.
What have I done, why does it sigh??
Oh, no, no, no, I will not die!!
But the terror speaks, gently, slower.
I look up and find no intently glower.
“You’re reading again, aren’t you, dear?”
For my sanity, I think, my mother fears.

About poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.
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