Shakespeare doesn't really write subtext, you play the subtext.
quote by Gary Oldman
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Personally, I don't think we could do such a show if we didn't get along. The subtext of all this is that we're women in a show so we can't possibly get along. It's not like they write about The Sopranos like that.
quote by Kristin Davis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think I am more attracted to characters with a subtext, whatever that is and they don't necessarily have to be virtuous, but they have to at least be human.
quote by Clive Owen
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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With Bound, we wanted to pull at conventions, because you begin to wonder, Why do these stereotypes exist? Where do they come from? You use that as the subtext.
quote by Larry Wachowski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's no subtext in Harry Potter really; it's all magic, anything can happen. Why do I say this? Because it's a magic spell. It's quite nice in a way. There is a real freedom to it.
quote by Michael Gambon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas - a despatch from the battlefield of the heart
Christmas is a-comin’ – but
this goose is gettin’ thin…
why do I feel I’m in the dock
of some unauthorised court of moral judgment
with the prospect of spending New Year
in some condemned cell of
personal opinion remarkably similar to
a Dickensian prison now electrified in just one wing…?
Forget the whole giving-presents thing – that’s
relatively simple – it’s those bloody
Christmas cards. Sent yours yet?
I’m with the angels on this one –
peace on earth and goodwill to all, uh,
persons… I’m fully paid up on
this one – so – can we stick with that?
or do we have to prove it with
a ready-printed message once a year?
It’s Christmas, dammit – maybe my year-round goodwill
is equalled by the whole other lot of you out there?
in which case, can we just take that as read,
a universal love-in on a level playing field?
It’s the subtext – ‘I’ve forgotten your personal existence
all the year, but look – Goody Two-Shoes is sending this
to show you up – and I’m posting it
so late that short of posting in the press
one of those announcements that say
‘This year Mr and Mrs Smith are sending
a donation to charity in place of the many Christmas cards
they would have sent to their many friends…’ – or
a postcard,
‘Now we’re back from our Antarctic trip,
Happy New Year! ’ you’re too late to reply…’
which means?
Or there's the subtext
'We're sending you a very
religious card with just the faintest hint that
although you may not have noticed it
when we had that blazing row
across the fence which has
simmered on all year, nevertheless
we're really more - well, everything -
than you bastards - however
this puts us, spiritually,
one up...'
‘Darling, Christmas cards – who sent us one
last year? ’ – say no more…
Would
‘No, we hadn’t quite forgotten you
in case you thought we had, and
I bet it’s mutual? ’ cards, tastefully
designed, be more fun? or
'Why should we even know your
name and address if we
hadn't once thought you worth loving and
if so, why should that change? '
I reckon one acid test for those you love
is, only think of sending cards to
those you’d think of phoning on
Christmas Eve or Christmas Day – and then,
do just that – no need to send a card as well?
Oh well, any excuse to say, I love you.. especially
if we mean it...
so, anyone who reads this (apart from those
who only read to check whether they’d
sent us one too) –
If an individual can claim to share
that universal love which, do we need reminding,
should live our lives for us all the year round,
please feel my universal love
blazing, blazing, towards you…
…‘what’s that, darling? Oh yes, I suppose
we’d better send them one, in case
they think we’d forgotten them… which evidently
we had, hadn’t we…? ’
Have a happy holiday and
a loving New Year full of peace
No really I mean it
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whatever
(feat. The Trolls)
I'm sittin' like a stone
On a solitary evening
Without my girl
Life has no meaning
She didn't say why
And she didn't say what for
she just said "I've been thinking it over"
And whatever,
Whatever
Whatever
She doesn't want to play
And her voice just fades away
Whatever
The solution to love
I haven't found yet
Does God have curlers and a
Lairnet
Everything I say comes out
To be a no no
The feelings I had were the
Only promo
Whatever
Whatever
Whatever
She doesn't want to play
And her voice just fades away
Whatever
Now I'm just one of the Joes
On the corner
I guess I ought to stay home
And watch the porno
I wanna get close
But no one
Will let me
I wish someone would react out
A and get me
Whatever
Whatever
Whatever
She doesn't want to play
And her voice just fades
She doesn't want to play
And her face just fades
She doesn't want to play
And her touch just fades away
Whatever
Whatever
Whatever
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's an intuitive exercise to do a Shakespeare play and to go through a Shakespeare play.
quote by Mark Rylance
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Moral Rights
‘The moral rights of the author
have been asserted’… that, I’m told,
is what I should say when I write
anything for publication here; even before
I say anything..
It means, I guess, the more, the less..
than ‘Copyright’ which normally
gets printed just above it;
which just means, don’t copy this;
whereas ‘moral rights’ convey
so much more…
suggesting that I even possess morality;
which, considering my wild, undisciplined
former life, you might well question..
but note, I merely ‘assert’ them;
feel free to challenge them (you note that ‘rights’
are plural; plenty lawyer’s fees there
to say, well maybe this, not that…
and you’re free (your defending counsel may assert)
to copy my poem and put your own name to it;
since truth can be in no man’s sole possession,
and my poem, bless its metered tropes,
speaks naught but the truth..
though now I mention ‘truth’, I don’t recall
that phrase about the moral rights
upon the title-page of, let’s say,
the Gospels; Books of Moses; Qu’ran; Upanishads;
those guys on whom we’ve so long depended
to tell us what morality should be..
so please understand, that when I ‘assert’,
it’s more for my self-image than for yours;
makes me feel good; I must be
a serious author, if (in the subtext, scholars footnote)
the moral underpinning may be detected..
and that said – now to the poem.. Except
now I’ve forgotten what I was going to say..
Perhaps that, too, is a moral issue; but
I have the right to remain silent..
even if I’m up on this morality charge..
my defence is, that my Muse,
hearing the word ‘morality’,
flees my company. ’Twas ever so.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry
When you have
Nothing to do,
You write
Meaningless
Poetry…
That doesn’t mean
Anything to you,
That doesn’t mean
Anything to them.
But you still write…
Because if you write,
You’ll have something
To do!
(Poem themed on Humour ;)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Gratitude dawning
Alarm clock. The sun rises.
The buses, railways, flights are running.
There’s a bottle of milk on the doorstep.
Facts of life. Except when they’re not there.
Who lives a life of continual gratitude for life?
Hey guys, the sun which disappeared last night
has turned up again today! Wow! Relief! Let’s get down
on our knees, raise hands, voices… and
while we’re about it, put your hands together for
all morning milkmen, where they still deliver milk…
Except – no milk this morning.
Shall you telephone – politely,
with a subtext of unpractised gratitude?
I only saw the current milkman once;
said to him, this is the first time I met you…
he said, well, you’re not around at 4 ay em are you?
So you telephone. A foreignish voice from
the land of holy cows replies from
a script I guess, …your previous milkman…
left the company… late…on his way…
Morning gratitude. The cow who gives you
the love for her calves, in liquid form;
yielding too, the butter for your toast;
the pig who gave her life for your bacon rasher;
the hen who parted with her offspring for you
to kill its life in sizzling frying pan…
they’re all female, you’ve just noticed; how about
the oranges whose liquid praise of the morning sun you drink?
tomatoes, mushrooms, anybody?
maybe you should write a note to the dairy,
say, please convey to the milkman
who has now left the company for
pastures new, hur hur, and we hope
a creamy, frothing future,
our gratitude for services rendered
which we would not ourselves
be easily persuaded to take on…
yes, maybe you should.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Redirected Rage At Students Unblessed-Thank God, I'm No Longer Possessed.
Redirected rage tossed aside it's predestined path...
Can't blame 'nother problem by school and math.
In high school i was at a stand still in summer school math
and American history...
Never got an a or even a dee.
T'was just an eff just due to me.
I did not want ta become a rocket scientist or teacher of years
in time...
What law had i broken? -What caught was my crime?
Art and English were just my best subjects...
That fact was clear to my teachers, no lie or not even a false pretext or subtext.
As a teenager i was hard to control...
The grade school hall monitor was always out on Mike Gale patrol.
Fights were attracted to me as like a mighty over powering magnet...
That should seem to all readers of this bad fact that is solomnly
tragic.
I just don't know how my teachers put up with me...
The school board had unanomously had voted for a teachers pay increase for observence of yours truly.
Overtime was their only way...
That's how teachers who broke school rules were forced to pay.
I'm just glad to this day that i've matured and changed...
Thank God Almighty-I'm no longer deranged.
poem by Michael Gale
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Just Because
Just because you did
Doesn't mean that you should
Just because you can
Doesn't mean that you could
Just because you are able
Doesn't mean you would
Just because you sat
Doesn't mean you should‘ve stood.
Just because you spoke
Doesn't mean that you thought
Just because you looked
Doesn't mean that you sought
Just because you argued
Doesn't mean that you fought
Just because you dreamed
Doesn't mean that you wished not.
Just because you cried
Doesn't mean that you wept
Just because you had
Doesn't mean that you kept
Just because you cleaned
Doesn't mean that you swept
Just because you said yes
Doesn't mean that you accept.
Just because you gathered
Doesn't mean that you own
Just because you gave up
Doesn't mean that you were alone
Just because you saw
Doesn't mean that you were shown
Just because you expiate
Doesn't mean you should atone.
Just because your old
Doesn't mean that you have flaws
Just because you won
Doesn't mean you have to applause
Just because you waited
Doesn't mean that you paused
Just because you were you
Doesn't mean anything, because.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Justifying
He keeps
Justifying
With others
Why he
Doesn't
Write to me.
Nobody
Asks him
For
Justifications.
Yet he keeps
Reasoning
With them
Why he
Doesn't
Write to me.
Though I
Know that
In love,
All reasons
Fail.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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The fact that we write about it doesn't mean we play better than ordinary players at all.
quote by Al Alvarez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shakespeare, Where Are You? (For Harold Bloom)
SHAKESPEARE, WHERE ARE YOU? (FOR HAROLD BLOOM)
Shakespeare, where are you?
You should be living at this hour.
Literature has need of you.
We have become a fen of stagnant voices
A parody of noble and great lines
All our efforts have become a deriding
Of our own spirit.
We need your Beauty and your Magnitude
The Metaphoric motions of your Incredible most awkward Lines
We need Your Richness and Your Song
Your Endless Entertainment of our own Emotions
Your deep play of Character and Feeling
We need you now Shakespeare
To remind us that to be Human
Is still to be the Glory Jest and Riddle
And that our voices somehow can still say
In Times beyond our own knowing
The wisdom and the way
To what is best within and beyond us
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sonnet 35
You sit there often and write
With candle light bright glow
You know how to really delight
And in every word it shows
Master Shakespeare you are
How very much I admire you
You are the greatest by far
Your words I cherish how true
A genus in every single way
You captured my attention so
For words are what you play
Somehow you must truly know
Forgotten you will never be
How you Sir so inspired me
poem by Suelynn Walters
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Yeah. I'm amateurish. I can play enough to write a song, or strum on a little guitar to write out a song. But, I don't play well at all. I wouldn't even attempt for a second to play in public.
quote by Ben E. King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Can Only Write Like Me
Poet Poe, though 'Raven' mad
His work could all excite
Forever, I'd be mighty glad
If I could Poe-like write
I'd love to write like Shakespeare
With nothing 'much ado'
But, Bard-William, have no fear
I could never write like you
Cole Porter, clever word-king
Your songs are all the rage
My words, though to my liking
Your reign I can't up-stage
The opera Boris Godunov
Has great linguistic string
My lyrics aren't good enough
To have written such a thing
Those writers cut me down to size
It's true, unfortunately
Since I don't care to plagiarize
I can only write like me
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Just Yield
There are forty-two
Taking my test on Shakespeare
I see a hand go up
I walk over
“What’s it, ” I ask
Sir, “What’s Fate?
Should I
Write the whole story
Of Romeo and Juliet
Or should I just write on Fate? ”
“It’s that
Which we don’t
Have control over....
Write on the role of Fate, ” I explain.
“It’s all planned,
F o r e o r d a i n e d, ”
I tell myself.
How I used to think
In my younger days
That I can control Fate
Wrest it out, direct, execute
Better sense prevails, now
Just y i e l d.
And it was the idea that you can do a play - like a Shakespeare play, or any well-written play, Arthur Miller, whatever - and say things you could never imagine saying, never imagine thinking in your own life.
quote by James Earl Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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