(a 15 yr old boy, walks down a scruffy road with a school bag slung around his shoulder, he looks into camera as he speaks)
I dont know what I would do without the shuffle on my ipod. Everywhere I go each song seems to narrate what's going on, or what I'm feeling. The perfect example of this is the other day when I was in Liverpool St station and suddenly Hunting for Witches by Bloc Party comes on and then the whole of the station starts zooming around and I feel like I am the only one who isn't zooming around. It's kinda like a score for a film, and you imagine yourself as the protagonist telling a story, soaking up the epic intensity, and as the music reaches its climax and so does the scene and then the next track comes on. So, I guess that its not the music that narrates its the music that changes the way you narrate your own life.
(he turns a corner still looking into camera intensly)
Sometimes if no one's looking I start lip-syncing the song, like in a music video; like Richard Ashcroft in the video for Bitter Sweet Symphony; thats the kinda song that can really make you feel like the main character, sweeping melodies with intense droney vocals. If I am in a really good mood I might even dance a little, like the other week I was walking home and as I passed St. Judes,and the swing version of Smells Like Teen Spirit comes on I start dancing like the Jets and the Sharks in West Side Story, when they are circling around eachother bending over and doing those over the top clicks and turns.
(he turns another corner)
My family have always communicated through music (or puddings), you can tell when my dad is in a good mood because he flicks on Elvis, (Elvis Costello not Elvis Presley) he refers to Elvis Costello as Elvis to signify who he really thinks is the king. I have a theory my dad was like me, y'see Elvis started becoming popular around the time my dad was my age, I think that my dad liked his teenage years and thats why he plays Elvis when he's sad.
(he walks through his school gates)
My mum on the other hand was more of a pudding woman
(he sits on a bench in the playground)
and thats why whenever she was happy or pleased with me she brought home a sticky toffee pudding and ice cream.
(the bells goes and he gets up and starts to walk up the stairs)
Ever since mum pissed off I guess my dad has soaked up her pudding duties,
(he enters his classroom)
he's never really expressed his painful anger towards mum
( he sits down)
the only reson I know that he's sad is because, in the evenings, he sits in front of the computer eating ice cream and listening to Emerson, Lake and Palmer.
Wednesday, 27 February 2008
Sunday, 24 February 2008
Mental
(Sighs, looks down before beginning to talk) 5am that’s when ‘e goes to sleep... after the overdose of sleepin’ pills that is... 6am, guess what that is... that’s when ‘e wakes up (Laughs softly). I never understood why they brought him ‘ere. (Roughly wipes an eye, voice rises) ‘E has no reason to be ‘ere. This damned place made him go nuts (Looks down in anger, Pause, sighs).
(Pushes against ears in anger) Arghhhh... (Gets up and shuts the door)
(Sits back down)I can’t bare the sound of his screams. I’ve been working ‘ere for the past 10 years; but I’ve never before felt the pain of another... never! I couldn’t...I mean... it was part of my job... to ‘ave no feelin’. (Puts head in hands)
I tried to get him out of ‘ere before it was much too late... I nearly lost my job but if that bothered me then I really ain’t human at all! I secretly let him listen to music once in a while... but they caught me out of course.
(Gets up, re-opens the door and sits back down)
(Looks at the door and slowly turns back) Another electric shock or dip in the water I guess... that’s all they ever do in this shithole... ‘Elp people? My foot! They never liked him... Who knows why... maybe it’s ‘cause he was always normal and they couldn’t face the fact that they turned him into a total nutcase!
My last attempt at helpin’ him was useless... (Shouts in anger) you know they tried to f***ing electrocute me! That’s how you know they’re the totally insane... (Calms down and wipes a tear) But I tried to ‘elp him... I honestly did; it’s just... they got to him before me. (Cries) You can guess what they did to him... I could never forgive myself...
(Gets up and walks away crying)
Task 20
(All alone in the cellar, a fourteen year old girl is crying in a scrunched up ball in the corner with whip marks on her back, as loss of her other and living with her cruel aunt.)I lived with my aunt for two days now and I can’t bring myself to eat or drink. My face is pale and my eyes are red due to the lack of sleep and my wails for my dead parents. It weren’t fair that they were taken so quickly from me...died in a car crash and left me here in a dark small space with the woman upstairs getting that cane or whip to beat me again. (Rubs eyes and fidgets, stares at the cold bread and water or a metal plate)
So my parents didn’t come home that night, it was my birthday as well, hmm. IT WASN’T FAIR! IT WASN’T FAIR!!! (Footsteps outside and a screams of yelling)
Well I better shut up now, or she’ll unlock the door. (Footsteps fade away up the creaky stair.) Thank god, she’s gone, Thank the lord. (Sighs of relief, crawls to the cold bread a slips the stale water. Looking carefully at the door.) It feels so filling to eat something again but better not eat a lot or she’ll hit me for being so greedy and not so less or she’ll hit me for being so ungrateful.
Well I better shut up now, or she’ll unlock the door. (Footsteps fade away up the creaky stair.) Thank god, she’s gone, Thank the lord. (Sighs of relief, crawls to the cold bread a slips the stale water. Looking carefully at the door.) It feels so filling to eat something again but better not eat a lot or she’ll hit me for being so greedy and not so less or she’ll hit me for being so ungrateful.
I never was a Christian but now I pray every day to see light and my dear mother’s face, (Tear drops down her face as she looks down in despair.)So if you hear me out god, yeah, you were able to take my parents and I don’t care if you can take me but help me please, please, please, Hear me out take me out of here in anyway. Please-I beg you!
(She cries and wails with pain, footsteps patter down the stairs, she covers her mouth in horror as the door opens.)
Saturday, 23 February 2008
A Goodbye...
(A middle aged woman standing over a large Oak coffin. Dressed all in black, tissue in hand.)
Hello love… makes a change, you being to quite! You always did me head in with that music of yours! I was thinking, I could pop down to the charity shop tomorrow and hand ‘em your records. They’re of no use now are they? (nervously laughs…)
Corr Blimey! Betty’s gonna miss you aint she?! Deary me, you and that dog were like two pea’s in a pod weren’t ya?! I always thought you were bloomin’ mad to love such a scruffy little thing. She’s gonna miss you.. we all are… (stares at the floor in thought…)
Aunty Peg brought round some lovely flowers to the house, they give it a nice atmosphere you know? You never did like flowers did ya love? “I’m allergic” Bloomin’ allergic my arse haha! (Pulls out a seat and sits beside the coffin)
You know… it’ll never be the same without you…you’re still my little fella whether your down here or up there ( points to the ceiling while wiping her nose and sniffing) I hope I was a good mum to you love. I tried my best, I know at times it were bloomin hard with your Dad running off with that tart and us alone with no money, but, we got through didn’t we love (reaches in and touches the hand of the corpse) Stone cold… You never did like winter did ya. I always had to fill that Disney hot water bottle up for you (giggles to herself) Even when you were a little baby, I had to wrap you up in two blankets because your poor little toes were stone cold. (Smiles to herself and staress at the corpse)
Listen to me going on about old times... but you see dear.. memories are all I have of you…(a tear trickles down her face) Fella, you were the best thing I ever had in my life, and still are… I’m gonna miss you like mad son… It’s not the same without you…(She jerks out of her seat) Oh, well I must be going, the after party is kicking off… I’ll dance for you fella, I’ll make you proud of me, you always loved my groovy dance moves didn’t ya?! Haha! (the light slowlys dims)
Say hi to Nanna for me. I love you fella.
sixth sense ?
23 year old male slumped in a solitary armchair in the middle of a dim lighted room; his face remains in the shadows.
I have this thing you know, you can’t pull the wool over my eyes, doesn’t matter how infectious your fake smiles and personality are - I’m immune to it all. I can easily suss out any shady character, there’ll just be something about you that doesn’t sit right with me - it could be a slight expression, a look in your eyes and I’ll just know, trust me I’m never wrong .
(Sinks further back into the chair and crosses one leg over the other while forming a steeple with his hands)
One person that I continually had a problem with was my twin brother; it was all in his eyes you see.
There was always this creeping suspicion where he was concerned. I remember when we were in our teens; he thought it’d be cool to experiment with smoking, the next thing you know I’m “accidentally” locked in my room where a cigarette my brother had supposedly “stomped out” managed to set fire to my carpet - I barely escaped with my life but I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he came to visit me at the hospital - it was then that I knew. That experience was just one of many to come; I survived them all and they only made me stronger but the scars still remain.
The last straw was when he forced himself on my fiancée, I knew what he was trying to do - he’d failed in getting to me so he got to the person closest to me – the bastard.
Like I said there was always something fishy about him
(He leans into the light revealing a mangled mass of twisted scar tissue eclipsing his left cheek)
I think it’s rather fitting that he’s presently swimming with the fishes in the river
(He chuckles deeply)
don’t you?
Task 20
(An elderly woman sits on a rocking chair by a window, slowly rocking back and forth)
(There's a long silence before then the old woman stops rocking and looks towards her audience)
(spot light on the woman in the rocking chair)
It's not that I've had a bad life, I have done what every human being was put on this earth to do, I tried to lead as full a life as possible... Oh what fun we used to have when we were young (She chuckles) When we were young... (short pause) Most of the years gone by seem like distant memory to me now, it's all a bit hazy to me... But still, I have served my purpose I think, to the best of my ability and have had a good life, as for regrets? Well, we all have a few... Would we be fully human if we didn't? (She smiles faintly) To be quite truthful, I have a few regrets too many... Perhaps if I was at the right place, at the right time, maybe if I had been nicer to my mother, not had such awful arguments with my friends, perhaps if I hadn't of let him go...
(There's a long silence and the woman starts to rock back and forth again)
My father, he always told me a life without passion, without love is a life half lived and I can sit here all night and tell you my stories, my fading memories, but I can't tell you of a life spent with someone I truly loved, no... A part of me has always felt somewhat, (she struggles to find the words)empty, somewhat.. lonely.All alone in a room full of people..
I remember my mother, how beautiful she looked in that yellow summer's dress (she smiles to herself) I remember my father, how he looked at her with such adoring eyes.. You could see him looking at his whole world, he loved her so..
(She puts on a deep voice, imitating a man's) "A life lived without love, is a life half lived" , he'd keep telling me.. Oh but I did love... A long, long time ago (she looks out the window) I have never told anyone about William, not even my husband, I did love my late husband of course, but it was more of a brotherly love, not a love filled with passion and desire, it was more of (a pause) a deep friendship, and that was fine but you see, William... (she smiles to herself) William was my first love. After all these years, I have never found a love so deep, so true... I have known passion, I have known such a love that could have been mistaken for obsession even, total adoration for another human being... (A long pause) A love, that lasted for one summer, and that summer lasted a lifetime in my heart. there's a silence
(The old woman falls silently still and glances down at her aging hands)
No, I haven't had a bad life, I have done things that most people only dream of doing, but yet I wonder, was my life half-lived? Is a summer romance enough to fill a lonely heart still longing for true love..? (short pause)
Perhaps next life time, I will do things differently.
(She goes back to rocking slowly back and forth, while glancing out the window)
(The room fades to black)
(There's a long silence before then the old woman stops rocking and looks towards her audience)
(spot light on the woman in the rocking chair)
It's not that I've had a bad life, I have done what every human being was put on this earth to do, I tried to lead as full a life as possible... Oh what fun we used to have when we were young (She chuckles) When we were young... (short pause) Most of the years gone by seem like distant memory to me now, it's all a bit hazy to me... But still, I have served my purpose I think, to the best of my ability and have had a good life, as for regrets? Well, we all have a few... Would we be fully human if we didn't? (She smiles faintly) To be quite truthful, I have a few regrets too many... Perhaps if I was at the right place, at the right time, maybe if I had been nicer to my mother, not had such awful arguments with my friends, perhaps if I hadn't of let him go...
(There's a long silence and the woman starts to rock back and forth again)
My father, he always told me a life without passion, without love is a life half lived and I can sit here all night and tell you my stories, my fading memories, but I can't tell you of a life spent with someone I truly loved, no... A part of me has always felt somewhat, (she struggles to find the words)empty, somewhat.. lonely.All alone in a room full of people..
I remember my mother, how beautiful she looked in that yellow summer's dress (she smiles to herself) I remember my father, how he looked at her with such adoring eyes.. You could see him looking at his whole world, he loved her so..
(She puts on a deep voice, imitating a man's) "A life lived without love, is a life half lived" , he'd keep telling me.. Oh but I did love... A long, long time ago (she looks out the window) I have never told anyone about William, not even my husband, I did love my late husband of course, but it was more of a brotherly love, not a love filled with passion and desire, it was more of (a pause) a deep friendship, and that was fine but you see, William... (she smiles to herself) William was my first love. After all these years, I have never found a love so deep, so true... I have known passion, I have known such a love that could have been mistaken for obsession even, total adoration for another human being... (A long pause) A love, that lasted for one summer, and that summer lasted a lifetime in my heart. there's a silence
(The old woman falls silently still and glances down at her aging hands)
No, I haven't had a bad life, I have done things that most people only dream of doing, but yet I wonder, was my life half-lived? Is a summer romance enough to fill a lonely heart still longing for true love..? (short pause)
Perhaps next life time, I will do things differently.
(She goes back to rocking slowly back and forth, while glancing out the window)
(The room fades to black)
Jack
(A 53 year old man greyed with age but with brilliant posture and designer clothes stands there in handcuffs outside his plush office)
(Turns his head to his work colleagues)
Marge, Beatrice, Marcy this is nothing but a big mistake don’t worry I’ll be back in an hour, hour and a half at a push; hold the fort (lets out a nervous laugh).
(He turns and looks at the audience everyone else gets blacked out as the spotlight stops on him)
Women, the most unintelligent, useless, disgusting creatures God ever made, but still society today expects me to work with them and socialise with them like they are some how equal! Thirty-three years I’ve had to work with women and even work under them. I’ve had to act as though I appreciate their presence and think that they are a key part of our society. But I couldn’t do it anymore, I got tired of being the second best species, so I decided to help the city, help the country and even take it as far as helping the world. I decided to take it into my own hands and help make them distinct.
I decided to start off with the worst type of women, prostitutes. I only wanted to kill ten just to get the ball rolling; but I got a bit carried away and couldn’t stop I got it inside my head that if I somehow got rid of all the prostitutes there wouldn’t be much women left considering they only have one key purpose in life: sex, but they just kept popping up out of nowhere, I needed them gone. We needed them gone.
(He bows his head)
But then I started to make mistakes, I didn’t tidy up good enough I didn’t burn the clothes and the weapons I just thought that if people were normal they would see it as I saw it helping the struggling community.
(Lifts head up)
As you can probably guess the police started to piece the evidence together and link it to me (no help of the women). They started to ask around of what I was like and how I behaved around females, of course my community stood by my side and tried to save me from the four walled cell they were bound to put me in if they found out I was the culprit. But of course as we all no there always has to be the nosey parker who ends up being the snitch in my case guess who it was, a woman; but not any woman, my mother.
(He drops to the floor head bowed)
How could she, why could she never see that all I ever had was a dream, just like any other person, Martin Luther King had a dream, she didn’t argue with his. My dream was simple and easy to fulfil.
I just wanted…
(Raises his head)
To be the new and improved Jack the Ripper.
(Stands up and holds hands above his head)
And don’t think that this little hiccup will change that.
I’m going to be a hero!
(Turns his head to his work colleagues)
Marge, Beatrice, Marcy this is nothing but a big mistake don’t worry I’ll be back in an hour, hour and a half at a push; hold the fort (lets out a nervous laugh).
(He turns and looks at the audience everyone else gets blacked out as the spotlight stops on him)
Women, the most unintelligent, useless, disgusting creatures God ever made, but still society today expects me to work with them and socialise with them like they are some how equal! Thirty-three years I’ve had to work with women and even work under them. I’ve had to act as though I appreciate their presence and think that they are a key part of our society. But I couldn’t do it anymore, I got tired of being the second best species, so I decided to help the city, help the country and even take it as far as helping the world. I decided to take it into my own hands and help make them distinct.
I decided to start off with the worst type of women, prostitutes. I only wanted to kill ten just to get the ball rolling; but I got a bit carried away and couldn’t stop I got it inside my head that if I somehow got rid of all the prostitutes there wouldn’t be much women left considering they only have one key purpose in life: sex, but they just kept popping up out of nowhere, I needed them gone. We needed them gone.
(He bows his head)
But then I started to make mistakes, I didn’t tidy up good enough I didn’t burn the clothes and the weapons I just thought that if people were normal they would see it as I saw it helping the struggling community.
(Lifts head up)
As you can probably guess the police started to piece the evidence together and link it to me (no help of the women). They started to ask around of what I was like and how I behaved around females, of course my community stood by my side and tried to save me from the four walled cell they were bound to put me in if they found out I was the culprit. But of course as we all no there always has to be the nosey parker who ends up being the snitch in my case guess who it was, a woman; but not any woman, my mother.
(He drops to the floor head bowed)
How could she, why could she never see that all I ever had was a dream, just like any other person, Martin Luther King had a dream, she didn’t argue with his. My dream was simple and easy to fulfil.
I just wanted…
(Raises his head)
To be the new and improved Jack the Ripper.
(Stands up and holds hands above his head)
And don’t think that this little hiccup will change that.
I’m going to be a hero!
Lifes Twists....
(A teenage boy lays in bed playing with his hair, staring at the blank ceiling in a room on the 6Th floor of a building. The lights out and the only light now is coming from the window.)
Hmm. I wonder if things could have been different. If I done something different. Dad wasn't as bad as mum makes him out to be. I hate the way she talks about him sometimes, yes he was wrong but at least his intentions were good. Maybe I would have been better of staying with him. Maybe... maybe I shouldn't be with any of them.
(A tear drops from his eye. He then gets up and slowly walks over to the window and rests forehead on the cold glass.)
Everything went wrong because of me. Because of me they're now so far away. Because of me every things changed. Nothing seems right, because of me. It seems the world would obviously be a better place without me after all. But then again, I never really volunteered to be born. I Never asked to be in a family, to have a body, to have a life. Besides everything would be better off without me anyway, so whats the point. I might as well not bother with anything anymore.
(Slides balcony door open slowly and walks over to the edge, wind blowing steadily making his overgrown hair move about.)
I miss dad. I wonder where he is now, what he's doing, if he remembers me even. I wonder if I'll ever see him again. I hope he's OK. I hope he's happy. If only mum and dad just got along, life would be so much easier. What ever I do goes wrong. Everything I do is either useless, it fails or ends up negatively. Hmm, I'm not needed here, no-ones gonna miss me if I'm gone. No ones gonna give a shit.
(Leans over balcony edge and falls to his death)
Hmm. I wonder if things could have been different. If I done something different. Dad wasn't as bad as mum makes him out to be. I hate the way she talks about him sometimes, yes he was wrong but at least his intentions were good. Maybe I would have been better of staying with him. Maybe... maybe I shouldn't be with any of them.
(A tear drops from his eye. He then gets up and slowly walks over to the window and rests forehead on the cold glass.)
Everything went wrong because of me. Because of me they're now so far away. Because of me every things changed. Nothing seems right, because of me. It seems the world would obviously be a better place without me after all. But then again, I never really volunteered to be born. I Never asked to be in a family, to have a body, to have a life. Besides everything would be better off without me anyway, so whats the point. I might as well not bother with anything anymore.
(Slides balcony door open slowly and walks over to the edge, wind blowing steadily making his overgrown hair move about.)
I miss dad. I wonder where he is now, what he's doing, if he remembers me even. I wonder if I'll ever see him again. I hope he's OK. I hope he's happy. If only mum and dad just got along, life would be so much easier. What ever I do goes wrong. Everything I do is either useless, it fails or ends up negatively. Hmm, I'm not needed here, no-ones gonna miss me if I'm gone. No ones gonna give a shit.
(Leans over balcony edge and falls to his death)
Love or death?
(She sits down on her bed, reminiscing fond memories, wondering if things will ever be the same. She gets up and looks out her window looking on at the romantic young couples arm in arm wondering if she would ever find herself in that position again.)
Life’s not easy you know. Being me. The amount I went through… GOING to go through… Still AM going through. It’s unreal. I hate how I had the one for me… I knew he was. And then it just ended. Because of him. The one I loved. Love still. (Looks at the floor) I love how he treated me… the way he talked to me, the way he said he loved me. I just don’t understand why it had to end. (Tears in eye). As if that’s the only thing im crying about though. Me being a hormonal imbalanced typical teenage girl tutting, sighing and with uncontrollable moodswings; regularly. I hate how my parents and family don’t understand why I am the way I am. I can’t help but to be growing can I? Can you hear that? Mum screaming at me to run in the shower. Dad screaming even more saying how I'm wasting his electricity by leaving the boiler on. Is money all they bloody care bout? (Heavily crying)
I don’t mean to cry. That’s just the way I am I guess. It’s as if my body wasn’t built to control tears. Maybe that’s one thing God should’ve included in the human package; immunity to pain. Why does being so young and naive have to hurt? I mean, I just can’t help but to fall in love. I want him back. My parents aren’t making things any easier for me either by nagging me. They won’t ever understand. Or is it just that they enjoy inflicting all this pain on me? They like to see me suffer? They use GCSE exams and revision to suffocate me in fact… as in a form of punishment? Does HE want to see me suffer too? Does he know I still love him and that he loves someone else now? (Hyperventilates). Well I don’t need them if that’s the case… No one will ever be needing me again…
(Sounds of muffled screaming… parents walk in to be welcomed by a pool of blood…)
Life’s not easy you know. Being me. The amount I went through… GOING to go through… Still AM going through. It’s unreal. I hate how I had the one for me… I knew he was. And then it just ended. Because of him. The one I loved. Love still. (Looks at the floor) I love how he treated me… the way he talked to me, the way he said he loved me. I just don’t understand why it had to end. (Tears in eye). As if that’s the only thing im crying about though. Me being a hormonal imbalanced typical teenage girl tutting, sighing and with uncontrollable moodswings; regularly. I hate how my parents and family don’t understand why I am the way I am. I can’t help but to be growing can I? Can you hear that? Mum screaming at me to run in the shower. Dad screaming even more saying how I'm wasting his electricity by leaving the boiler on. Is money all they bloody care bout? (Heavily crying)
I don’t mean to cry. That’s just the way I am I guess. It’s as if my body wasn’t built to control tears. Maybe that’s one thing God should’ve included in the human package; immunity to pain. Why does being so young and naive have to hurt? I mean, I just can’t help but to fall in love. I want him back. My parents aren’t making things any easier for me either by nagging me. They won’t ever understand. Or is it just that they enjoy inflicting all this pain on me? They like to see me suffer? They use GCSE exams and revision to suffocate me in fact… as in a form of punishment? Does HE want to see me suffer too? Does he know I still love him and that he loves someone else now? (Hyperventilates). Well I don’t need them if that’s the case… No one will ever be needing me again…
(Sounds of muffled screaming… parents walk in to be welcomed by a pool of blood…)
Shanade Clarence- Ugly?
(Young Girl, coming up the stairs, lowers her bag off of her shoulders and begins talking to the camera while walking to her bedroom.)
What a hectic weekend! Marvelous, but hectic. I had my first ever sleepover. With people that actually like me! They call it a 'Beauty Bash'. Well whatever it was, it was Mighty Fun!
(Opens her bedroom door)
Oh well, no matter where you go or how fun it was, you always miss ya bed, right?
(Throws herself on her bed)
Ahhh. Wonderful. That's not what the other girls at school think of my face though. Or my rusty hair. They call me names, and it's nothing like wonderful. They call me 'Ginger Minger' or 'Dot 2 Dot', referring to my fire-freckled face. But the girls at the sleepover don't think that, and neither does 'he' so why do they?
(Edges over to her mirror, playing with her tangled hair and rubbing her face with her stubby fingers)
Whatever though yano? If ya don't like me, then leave off.
(Tears coming to her eyes) You don't have to get carried away and throw me on the floor
(Imitating violent actions) and stamp on my face and kick me, and keep kicking, until you drain me, physically AND emotionally.
(Crying, and looking over to a blurry shiny metal on her bedside table) But he never fails me. He ties red ribbons beautifully on my wrist, calming me, relieving my pain. He doesn't think I'm ugly.
(It becomes clear that it's a knife and she slowly edges over to it)
What a hectic weekend! Marvelous, but hectic. I had my first ever sleepover. With people that actually like me! They call it a 'Beauty Bash'. Well whatever it was, it was Mighty Fun!
(Opens her bedroom door)
Oh well, no matter where you go or how fun it was, you always miss ya bed, right?
(Throws herself on her bed)
Ahhh. Wonderful. That's not what the other girls at school think of my face though. Or my rusty hair. They call me names, and it's nothing like wonderful. They call me 'Ginger Minger' or 'Dot 2 Dot', referring to my fire-freckled face. But the girls at the sleepover don't think that, and neither does 'he' so why do they?
(Edges over to her mirror, playing with her tangled hair and rubbing her face with her stubby fingers)
Whatever though yano? If ya don't like me, then leave off.
(Tears coming to her eyes) You don't have to get carried away and throw me on the floor
(Imitating violent actions) and stamp on my face and kick me, and keep kicking, until you drain me, physically AND emotionally.
(Crying, and looking over to a blurry shiny metal on her bedside table) But he never fails me. He ties red ribbons beautifully on my wrist, calming me, relieving my pain. He doesn't think I'm ugly.
(It becomes clear that it's a knife and she slowly edges over to it)
A broken promise
(A middle aged Asian woman is packing her suitcase, when she has finishes packing she sits and begins talking to the audience.)
I didn’t want it to end like this but I am just a woman, I have no say. I am just here to cook, clean and look after everyone. When it comes to the marriage of my 18 year old daughter, I must keep out.
(She sighs)
I wanted my daughter to be an independent young lady. She would break free from the chains of tradition and immerge into a modern woman. She would complete her studies, have a stable career and then think about marriage.
(She smiles briefly but soon it fades away)
But with my husband and his Stone Age values she can only dream of it. The sad thing is that she doesn’t even know she is being forced into a marriage. My husband has a way with her .He manipulates her into his way of thinking in such a way that she doesn’t realise it. She says something in agreement with him and there you go (clicks her fingers) she has given her consent; after that we’re all shipped on the first flight back home just in case she changes her mind.(gives a look of disgust)
Why can’t he forget about what society thinks? Why can’t he put my happiness and most importantly his daughter’s happiness into account? Why does he have to ruin my daughter’s life? (Tears stream out of her eyes)
After all the things I promised myself; how I wouldn’t let history repeat itself? How I promised myself that I wouldn’t let my daughter be forced into a marriage, my words backfire. I have failed her. After all the lengths I went to ,to get her the best education money can buy, she will end up being a housewife who will have to depend on her husband. She will be looked upon as a mere object not a human being, an object. (Sniffs and does her best to wipe her tears).But what can I do, I am useless. I’m going to have to watch my daughter throw her life away just like I did. (She looks at the application form for
Dramatic Monologues
(A 32 years old woman sits in an armchair, holding a picture of her 5 years old son who died in a car accident. The room is dark and only a bit of light from the window shines through and there are her son’s toys everywhere.)
He meant the world to me (holds on tight to the picture).Oh God, he was so young, why didn’t you take me instead? He was so young and innocent; he didn’t cause any harm to anyone. (Looks at the picture). I remember, how he always used to tell me, “Mummy when I grow up I want to become a police man.” And I would smile at him and say; yes dear you will be one day. He never got the chance to make his dream come true. All because of me, if I didn’t take him in the car, he would have still been alive. Now I regret the every moment I made him get into the car.
(Gets up from the armchair and picks up one of the toys, and goes to sit back down.)
This was his favourite toy, a little blue car, he wouldn’t go anywhere without it. I should have been more careful but I wasn’t and there is nothing I can do to change that now (puts the toy on the floor). I would do anything to get my son back, anything I tell you. But everyone says “you can’t change the past.” They don’t how it feels for a mother to lose their child and I wouldn’t want them to experience it neither. I always thought I was a good mother but I was wrong. How can I be a good mother? I didn’t protect my son, I didn’t save him and I let him die before me. How did I let that happen? (starts to cry and gets up, goes to sit on her son’s bed).
(Wipes her tears). Every night I would sit here and read him a bed-time story. He used to love them and I used to love reading them to him. He was so playful and always seem to be happy, he made the house alive and full of joy. All that is gone now. The house is empty and dark. I’m all alone but it was my fault, it was my fault I am now all alone. I have to go through the pain for what I have done. If only I was more careful on the road, he would be in my arms right now. (starts to cry again) There is no point in crying, it’s not like that is going to bring back my son. Is it?
I think its time I pay the price for what I have done. I always said I would stay by my son, where ever he may be. (takes out a gun from under the bed). It is my only choice and that is the only way I can be with him. That way I won’t be alone anymore. I know I will be happier up there then I would ever be without him here. (puts the gun near her head). I can’t live without my son. He meant the world to me…(shoots herself and falls of the bed).
Hasan
(A young man is sitting on the lower bed of his bunk bed in a small dark prison cell leaning against the wall. He’s wearing ripped grey trousers with a navy blue t-shirt that is stained. He starts scratching the stubble on his face and leans under his pillow to pull out a piece of chalk and draws a small line on the wall)
Day 63…only 302 more days left. Not that long left then I suppose. Im still breathing, although the asthma doesn’t seem to be settling down any time soon. But I feel as though im on the edge of it now, you know wa’ I mean. Like you know, this is it, nowhere else to go. And its only been one third of my total time. Wait , yh that’s right, one third. Yh I was always good at maths, always top of the class and knew algebra inside out. I could work out anything me, pity I couldn’t work this one out init.
(He moves on his bed and lays down facing the bunk above him and speaks as if he were speaking to the bed itself)
He was all brains up there. John was his name. Never quite understood why he wanted to end up there. I mean, he was a good lad. Polite, clever, good looking. Reminded me of me at one point. He said he had a son bob who was three. Born on the same day as my lil’ boy would you believe. We had a lot in common. Some say his end came to soon. God knows why he all of a sudden went mad. That’s the way he wasn’t like me. I could handle life. I didn’t search for death at every hurdle. Us big men can handle pressure.
(takes a long deep breath)
John was different. He started crying and instantly laughin’ for no reason one day. Always punching and kicking anything in his sight. He even fucked up bob one day. Coughed up blood now and then too. Never understood that. But I had to help him. That day when he called me I knew I had to help. He was in the shower when I came. I had to do it. I had to tie the rope around the shower head. He made me. Didn’t force me, but made me. Im glad I did too. He needed help, I helped him therefore I did a good deed. Yh a bloody good deed.
(He gets up and walks towards a pile of clothes and pulls out a picture of his son. Stroking the picture, he returns to his bed and kneels beside it)
Your mother thinks I was wrong son. But I wasn’t. I helped him. Friends do that. She doesn’t understand. She’s a woman. Always thinking with her brain more then her heart. Silly cow. Don’t worry son Il be out soon. Soon as possible. I didn’t kill him, I helped free him. They all call me heartless, a murderer. The other prisoners say it, even the walls repeat it now. But im not heartless, im just nice. the only problem, was that I was too nice.
Day 63…only 302 more days left. Not that long left then I suppose. Im still breathing, although the asthma doesn’t seem to be settling down any time soon. But I feel as though im on the edge of it now, you know wa’ I mean. Like you know, this is it, nowhere else to go. And its only been one third of my total time. Wait , yh that’s right, one third. Yh I was always good at maths, always top of the class and knew algebra inside out. I could work out anything me, pity I couldn’t work this one out init.
(He moves on his bed and lays down facing the bunk above him and speaks as if he were speaking to the bed itself)
He was all brains up there. John was his name. Never quite understood why he wanted to end up there. I mean, he was a good lad. Polite, clever, good looking. Reminded me of me at one point. He said he had a son bob who was three. Born on the same day as my lil’ boy would you believe. We had a lot in common. Some say his end came to soon. God knows why he all of a sudden went mad. That’s the way he wasn’t like me. I could handle life. I didn’t search for death at every hurdle. Us big men can handle pressure.
(takes a long deep breath)
John was different. He started crying and instantly laughin’ for no reason one day. Always punching and kicking anything in his sight. He even fucked up bob one day. Coughed up blood now and then too. Never understood that. But I had to help him. That day when he called me I knew I had to help. He was in the shower when I came. I had to do it. I had to tie the rope around the shower head. He made me. Didn’t force me, but made me. Im glad I did too. He needed help, I helped him therefore I did a good deed. Yh a bloody good deed.
(He gets up and walks towards a pile of clothes and pulls out a picture of his son. Stroking the picture, he returns to his bed and kneels beside it)
Your mother thinks I was wrong son. But I wasn’t. I helped him. Friends do that. She doesn’t understand. She’s a woman. Always thinking with her brain more then her heart. Silly cow. Don’t worry son Il be out soon. Soon as possible. I didn’t kill him, I helped free him. They all call me heartless, a murderer. The other prisoners say it, even the walls repeat it now. But im not heartless, im just nice. the only problem, was that I was too nice.
Pondering
(a young man aged between 20 and 30 sits in an old oak rocking chair, around him is the stench of rotting flesh and he sits there past midnight)
WHAT HAVE I DONE?!!!!!!!!
Did this young defenceless man deserve to feel my rage and wrath? What did he do to me? Could I have stopped this from happening?
NO, NO
There was nothing more I could have done to stop myself, ah yes I remember exactly what this impotent fool done to me, he raided my wife’s riches and ravaged her violently before heartlessly savaging her to the brink of her life.
BUT WAIT, COULD I NOT HAVE LEFT THIS MAN FOR THE AUTHOROTIES TO PUNISH?
NO, WAIT
I had originally gone to the police and the police reports had implied that there was not enough evidence to prove him guilty, that’s what struck a nerve and that’s what enraged me, so in reality there are multiple blames for his death not just me, First if he hadn’t done anything to my wife and let her be then I may not have gone on the violent streak after him, yes, and if the police had just done the damn right thing and put that man in prison for the rest of his life or even just given him the death sentence then I wouldn’t have need to intervene and take matters into my own hands, yes…. It wasn’t my fault It would have absolutely nothing to do with and my wife would still be here if he hadn’t picked on the wrong couple yes, everything would be normal, my wife and I would be enjoying nice strolls across the river bed and great nights together.
THOUGH THAT MAY BE TRUE I COULD HAVE RESISTED, I SHOULD HAVE RESISTED.
WHAT SHOULD I DO??
WHAT HAVE I DONE?!!!!!!!!
Did this young defenceless man deserve to feel my rage and wrath? What did he do to me? Could I have stopped this from happening?
NO, NO
There was nothing more I could have done to stop myself, ah yes I remember exactly what this impotent fool done to me, he raided my wife’s riches and ravaged her violently before heartlessly savaging her to the brink of her life.
BUT WAIT, COULD I NOT HAVE LEFT THIS MAN FOR THE AUTHOROTIES TO PUNISH?
NO, WAIT
I had originally gone to the police and the police reports had implied that there was not enough evidence to prove him guilty, that’s what struck a nerve and that’s what enraged me, so in reality there are multiple blames for his death not just me, First if he hadn’t done anything to my wife and let her be then I may not have gone on the violent streak after him, yes, and if the police had just done the damn right thing and put that man in prison for the rest of his life or even just given him the death sentence then I wouldn’t have need to intervene and take matters into my own hands, yes…. It wasn’t my fault It would have absolutely nothing to do with and my wife would still be here if he hadn’t picked on the wrong couple yes, everything would be normal, my wife and I would be enjoying nice strolls across the river bed and great nights together.
THOUGH THAT MAY BE TRUE I COULD HAVE RESISTED, I SHOULD HAVE RESISTED.
WHAT SHOULD I DO??
Friday, 22 February 2008
dramatic monologue
(In this last scene John reveals to the audience the "dark secret" that has been questioned over throughout the play. Standing on the roof of a nine storey apartment, he stares down at the darkness below him slowly reciting the following)
I'm loving angels instead... They do not hurt... they do not disrespect... they do not challenge or fight... they do not need to learn to love... they are not scared... they are not negative. I will follow in my mothers, my brothers, my sisters and my daughters footsteps to the gates into heaven where they will greet me with smiles of long lost times when i was with them, laughing, crying, singing, and compelled with a passion stronger than all others. They will tell me how much they love me and how they miss me and have thought of me everyday, knowing I'd soon be with them. There is nothing down here for me. Earth is the real limbo described in the bible. Life is (he pauses) a test of time. To beat it, you yourself needs to be a stronger more powerful force. I do not have that force. God please for give for what I am about to do... It is for you and Janice, and James,and Lucy, and Lilla. Oh God, lilla, how is she? Is she happy? Does she still smile when she thimks of me? Does she miss me? Tell her I am so sorry. I am so sorry for what I have done. Her petite neck, A perfect fit for my hands which gripped and held on to it as if holding on for dear life, ironically. Are her eyes as misty blue as they were before ... before... before. Is her hair still as silky and as blonde before the perspiration of trying so hard to be freed got to it? Does she know how she came to you? God, was it selfish of me to try and protect that poor innocent soul from this Limbo and all the creatures in it? Does the sun shine in heaven illuminating little Lilla's face? Is she wearing her favourite dress? The Baby blue dress with the orange flowers. The dress i buried her in. Tell her I'm sorry, Daddy never meant to drink and shout and spit and hit and hurt her. Mummy never meant to watch and cry, paralyzed from all the fear. Mind you, your mother always seemed to be paralysed from fear, the fear of me. Tell little lilla it wasn't daddy that was hurting her, it was daddy's illness. Remind her of Jack. Does she cower into a corner? Is she scared? Does she remember him and all he did to her? Tell her... tell her... tell her he's coming for her, (mysterious smile appears) tell her Jack is coming, Jack is coming for her, Jack is coming and mummy's not here to help. Jack is coming, Jack is coming lilly baby! ...
(And with that, he eagerly jumps)
I'm loving angels instead... They do not hurt... they do not disrespect... they do not challenge or fight... they do not need to learn to love... they are not scared... they are not negative. I will follow in my mothers, my brothers, my sisters and my daughters footsteps to the gates into heaven where they will greet me with smiles of long lost times when i was with them, laughing, crying, singing, and compelled with a passion stronger than all others. They will tell me how much they love me and how they miss me and have thought of me everyday, knowing I'd soon be with them. There is nothing down here for me. Earth is the real limbo described in the bible. Life is (he pauses) a test of time. To beat it, you yourself needs to be a stronger more powerful force. I do not have that force. God please for give for what I am about to do... It is for you and Janice, and James,and Lucy, and Lilla. Oh God, lilla, how is she? Is she happy? Does she still smile when she thimks of me? Does she miss me? Tell her I am so sorry. I am so sorry for what I have done. Her petite neck, A perfect fit for my hands which gripped and held on to it as if holding on for dear life, ironically. Are her eyes as misty blue as they were before ... before... before. Is her hair still as silky and as blonde before the perspiration of trying so hard to be freed got to it? Does she know how she came to you? God, was it selfish of me to try and protect that poor innocent soul from this Limbo and all the creatures in it? Does the sun shine in heaven illuminating little Lilla's face? Is she wearing her favourite dress? The Baby blue dress with the orange flowers. The dress i buried her in. Tell her I'm sorry, Daddy never meant to drink and shout and spit and hit and hurt her. Mummy never meant to watch and cry, paralyzed from all the fear. Mind you, your mother always seemed to be paralysed from fear, the fear of me. Tell little lilla it wasn't daddy that was hurting her, it was daddy's illness. Remind her of Jack. Does she cower into a corner? Is she scared? Does she remember him and all he did to her? Tell her... tell her... tell her he's coming for her, (mysterious smile appears) tell her Jack is coming, Jack is coming for her, Jack is coming and mummy's not here to help. Jack is coming, Jack is coming lilly baby! ...
(And with that, he eagerly jumps)
Dramatic Monologues: Justice
(A woman is sitting in the driver’s seat of an unmarked Volvo car, alone in the middle of street. Its 12o’clock midnight, coming close to 1am in the morning. With a cigarette in her hand, smoking, her red handbag and its contents are sprawled across the seat next to her. Pouring out is an already empty packet of cigarettes and another that is missing a few. She starts to speak.)
Could’ve been easier, you know, just sitting at a desk all day, rambling on into a phone. (Smirks) But I had to do what he wanted. Had to do what he said. Senseless sonovabitch. For crying out loud, what did I ever want from the police force? (Inhales, lays hand on edge of open window) A gun, this friggin’ badge, an excuse from a, proper education. Like it or not, Tina always said I was crazy. Not crazy in general (Inhales again), just crazy to join the police force. I wasn’t ever sure whether she meant both. Why didn’t I listen to her? Justice has blinded me so far, the truth is always hidden when you're a cop. You see fact and ignore instinct.
(A police car speeds by somewhere in the background, its siren wailing. This is followed by the static crackle from the radio, muttering a very faint “Calling Unit 12-V10 to Victoria Street, Fifth Av-.”Before she turns the radio off. )
(Quotes in mimicked voice) ‘Sweetie, you remind me of your dad you know. You’re strong willed. You’ve got that, sense of justice, the one he always had.’ Three bullets during an armed robbery and he ended up lying in unconsciousness before he knew it. Still so strong willed Velmie?
(She looks at her cigarette burning out and throws it out the window, then reaches for another one, lights it and inhales.)
Dad always informed me of the dangers and losses. When I was kid, a teenager, an adult, continuously. I didn’t listen. Then Tina died, and the family, lost it. Dad was getting home later every day stinkin' like hell. Strange actually. Reminds me of myself. (Smirks again) Alex wasn’t any help either. Detective Lieutenant Saunder, with his cold, blue, distilled eyes. That news went around the force pretty fast, like wildfire. (Sighs) He was there when I joined, there when I left, making heads turn wherever he went. That added to the stress that was already piling up. All of my life, leading up to some, jerk. Still blinded by that, sense of justice. (Laughs aloud to herself for a short period of time.)
But that’s why I did it. That’s why I’ve run away. All that. Everything.
That sense of uncertainty surrounding Tina's death that was lacking the truth.
(Pauses, inhales deeply, coughs for a long time.)
There’s blood on the back seat, along with my gun. Murphy was hard to talk to, hard to get loose. (She smiles.) I had to know, had to find out why Tina died, had to see for myself why she jumped. Today. It's been bothering me for so long. She meant the world to me. (Lowers head and looks up again, straight ahead.)
It was when she died, when dad couldn’t remember his own name, and when Alex disposed of me for some slut, that was when I realised. (Faint teardrop runs down cheek)
As far as I think of it, I've got a journey to make.
My gun has lost it's licence, and my resignation has gone through. That day at the bridge, Tina didn't jump. That's one thing, I'm sure about. (Pauses)
Tina had a secret. And it all concluded at that bridge, where she jumped. I'm gonna' find out what happend to her. But the last thing that Murphy said struck me hard;
'She was being watched'.
(She sticks the keys back into the ignition and starts the car again. She inhales her last breath, and throws the butt out of the window and drives off, leaving only the slowly fading light of the cigarette to illuminate that one spot on the street.)
TASK 20
(A young 21 year old guy sitting in a rusted out car in the dark watching a girl in the house he parked near)
The bloody bitch. It was all her fault he died. It was all her fucking fault he committed fucking suicide and ended his life tragically and now he’s going to hell. Why couldn’t he stick to his own kind? Why did he have to fall in love with her, a muslim? A fucking damn muslim. Look at her, I can see her laughing...THAT BITCH, she killed my only family and she’s laughing. Let her have this final laugh...she doesn’t know what grief she caused me. She doesn’t know what pain she’s going to experience. I never let things lie. She’s in for it tonight. She’s going to get everything she deserves for MURDERING my brother...
(He stays in the car until he sees all the lights being turned off and slowly creeps out of the car making his way to the back of the house and breaks open the door and realises the door is already open)
This dumb bitch. She didn’t even lock the door. Couldn’t this murder get any easier...HAHAHAH! I couldn’t help laughing, I dint find it funny. I guess the feeling that I was going to get revenge was just generating my happiness to go wild. I JUST WANTED TO GET BACK AT HER FOR what she done. I looked around her clean and snug home. Slowly making my way towards her bedroom. Look t her ...sleeping peacefully....she doesn’t have the right too..........
(He walks right to her and pulls out a sharp knife..She wakes up suddenly and screams)
SHUUTUUP U BITCH
(She stops screaming)
It was all your fault, it was al your fault he died. Do you know that. Do you fucking know that.
**UNFINISHED**
The bloody bitch. It was all her fault he died. It was all her fucking fault he committed fucking suicide and ended his life tragically and now he’s going to hell. Why couldn’t he stick to his own kind? Why did he have to fall in love with her, a muslim? A fucking damn muslim. Look at her, I can see her laughing...THAT BITCH, she killed my only family and she’s laughing. Let her have this final laugh...she doesn’t know what grief she caused me. She doesn’t know what pain she’s going to experience. I never let things lie. She’s in for it tonight. She’s going to get everything she deserves for MURDERING my brother...
(He stays in the car until he sees all the lights being turned off and slowly creeps out of the car making his way to the back of the house and breaks open the door and realises the door is already open)
This dumb bitch. She didn’t even lock the door. Couldn’t this murder get any easier...HAHAHAH! I couldn’t help laughing, I dint find it funny. I guess the feeling that I was going to get revenge was just generating my happiness to go wild. I JUST WANTED TO GET BACK AT HER FOR what she done. I looked around her clean and snug home. Slowly making my way towards her bedroom. Look t her ...sleeping peacefully....she doesn’t have the right too..........
(He walks right to her and pulls out a sharp knife..She wakes up suddenly and screams)
SHUUTUUP U BITCH
(She stops screaming)
It was all your fault, it was al your fault he died. Do you know that. Do you fucking know that.
**UNFINISHED**
Wednesday, 20 February 2008
dramatic monolouges
(A solder positioned in Afghanistan recounts the situation with himself and all the other troops fighting against terror in wars around the world. He stands leant over his warrior tank, its about midday and his squad are on patrol)
I don’t know where I stand nowadays I tell yer (he slings his m-16 over his shoulder) if it wasn’t for the bloody Americans we’d all be dead by now, dead and buried in an unmarked grave. I remember my first contact, ‘shit’ I thought ‘looks like Mr.taliban’s come out to play again ‘cept this time he’s bought all his mates and his overnight bag with him’ ‘cept they wouldn’t need it since they had just been pumped full of lead covering every square inch of their skin turning their white hijabs crimson ‘rather it you than me’ I thought to myself with a smirk. It was part of the job description by now, kill or be killed, was my sergeants advice (glints at the sky) great man, great leader. Ill never forget the day he lost the game to a bunch of crackheads, remember it like it was yesterday, ‘take cover’ they were his last words before his body earned the tag ‘corpse’ and was lashed viscously against the wall.
(Getting emotional he takes a moment to catch his breath, he steadies himself and carries on)
People just don’t understand you know? The pain, the sorrow, the battles and the stress, it all adds up! (Holds his head in his hands) I never wanted to kill anybody. It wasn’t my childhood ambition. Yet nowadays as the government states that ‘we shall stand for what is right’ sometimes I ask myself just what is right, right nowadays has been distorted to kill the bastards whatever the cost, I mean it seems like were just gonna carry on killin’ til’ there ain’t none left.
(its about 6pm and the troops are back at base, whilst many get dinner he is outside preparing himself for what's to come)
I’m supposed to be leading a 10-man operation tomorrow, there’s a hangout or somethin’ in the mountains and there meant to be trafficking cocaine or some type of anti-depressant through the boarder, cant say I blame them, poor buggers are probably as high as the mountains, that would explain the suicide bombers anyway.
(Drags himself back to his to his tent and gets ready to settle down for bed)
I tell yer its lucky I got out whilst I still could, pressure was all too much and for once Mr.taliban finally came in useful for something. Do I regret ending it all? Do I balls, nobody gave a crap about me anyway, I mean they didn’t find me until 8 hours after the overdose. Finally now I have had the last laugh and as I look down from above I can’t help but realize. Just who is laughing now.
Sunday, 17 February 2008
Monologue Exemplars
Exemplar 1:
(An old man, about 80 years old, sits in a faded armchair in the corner of a cluttered, messy bedroom. The light shines in from a street lamp outside, but otherwise it is getting dark.)
I aint what I used to be. But, honest to God, you know, I dunno if I used to be either. (He sniffs, loudly.) When I was little, I wanted to be an actor. Real movie star, you know. Now? Tired of acting, to tell the truth. What I wouldn’t give to be real. To be me. Only trouble is, honest to God, you know, I dunno who that is. (He sniffs again, reaches deep in his pocket to take out a dirty handkerchief, sniffs again and spits loudly into it.) They’re out there now, you know. Never flippin’ leave. You wouldn’t know, but, honest to God, they aint in it for the love, if you know what I mean. It’s all about money. Thieving little bastards. They’d dump me as soon as look at me, honest to God, if I didn’t make it worth their while. Precious little love there, I’m telling you.
(There is a sound of heavy footsteps on stairs, the clink of china and cutlery, and something scrapes briefly on the outside of the bedroom door.)
Feeding time at the zoo. Wonder what it'll be like tonight. Bleedin' cabbage, I shouldn't wonder. Meat and two veg, with an extra helping of taking the piss. Honest to God, you'd think they could knock on the door and bring it in. Come and put it on my lap. Wouldn't kill them, you know. I wouldn't bite.
(This time, when he coughs into his handkerchief, there is blood. He pauses for a second, contemplates the fact, and then screws up the handkerchief and stuffs it quickly in his pocket.)
Doctor said I'm dying. Patted me gently on the shoulder, honest to God, and said I only had weeks left. Weeks left! Bet they're circling like vultures now. Circling and waiting for this old man to piss off and leave them be.
A man's got to eat, though. (He coughs again, splutters, and spits out more blood.) Nothing 'grand' about this father, honest to God. Scraps on the floor, but beggars can't choose. Didn't used to be like that, you know. (He walks to the door, opens it, and bends down, in pain, to pick up the tray of food.) I used to want to be an actor. When I was little. Honest to God...
Exemplar 2:
(A teenage girl sits on the edge of her bed, legs crossed, with headphones on and rocking gently to unheard music. Suddenly, she looks to the audience, takes off her headphones, and begins to speak.)
Typical: a premature peace offering before war had even been declared.
You keep your distance with a system of touch
And gentle persuasion
I was sitting in my bedroom, headphones clasped to my ears.
Tears for Fears. (How ironic.)
Head Over Heels. (My natural state, these days.)
Mum has started knocking on my door whenever she wants to see me. She says she is treating me like a grown-up; when all I want is to be treated like a child.
But I have taken to hiding in the sonic shelter of my headphones, and so I did not hear the knock on the door tonight, my heart jolting when she entered and dropped her hand on my shoulder. The headphone cord pulled on the music system and the record screeched as the needle, wisely, fled the scene.
Nothing ever changes when you’re acting your age.
Apparently.
“I hate it when you do that, mum," I said. "Look at that record! It’s ruined. I may as well throw it away.” And I grabbed the disk from the turntable and snapped it in two, tiny splinters of black vinyl spraying over both of us, one lodging itself in her left eye.
(She gets up off the bed and walks to the sideboard, gazing into the mirror.)
I stopped moving – breathing, even, for a moment – as she stared at her daughter, the silence punctured only by the rattle and swish of the turntable hitting the loose needle on each new spin. And then I saw it: just a trickle, a loose thread of deepest vermillion unravelling from the corner of her eye. So used to crying – especially in front of me – she carelessly brushed it away with her finger, but this smudged the red line creeping down her now crimson cheek.
As she lifted her hand to dry this persistent tear, she saw the red on her fingertip, and her startled expression made me laugh. I couldn't help it.
“When did you take her place, Saffy?" she snarled. "What happened to my little girl?” As she marched from the room, her hand an improvised gutter beneath the scarlet overflow, she threw the parcel on to my bed, and the tissue paper ripped as she did so, its secret spilling out on to my white duvet. (I preserve my innocence where I can.) The dress was velveteen, and dank with deepest indigo. I didn't need to read the label. I knew it wasn't from her.
(She goes back to her bed, puts back on her headphones, closes her eyes, and rocks again.)
(An old man, about 80 years old, sits in a faded armchair in the corner of a cluttered, messy bedroom. The light shines in from a street lamp outside, but otherwise it is getting dark.)
I aint what I used to be. But, honest to God, you know, I dunno if I used to be either. (He sniffs, loudly.) When I was little, I wanted to be an actor. Real movie star, you know. Now? Tired of acting, to tell the truth. What I wouldn’t give to be real. To be me. Only trouble is, honest to God, you know, I dunno who that is. (He sniffs again, reaches deep in his pocket to take out a dirty handkerchief, sniffs again and spits loudly into it.) They’re out there now, you know. Never flippin’ leave. You wouldn’t know, but, honest to God, they aint in it for the love, if you know what I mean. It’s all about money. Thieving little bastards. They’d dump me as soon as look at me, honest to God, if I didn’t make it worth their while. Precious little love there, I’m telling you.
(There is a sound of heavy footsteps on stairs, the clink of china and cutlery, and something scrapes briefly on the outside of the bedroom door.)
Feeding time at the zoo. Wonder what it'll be like tonight. Bleedin' cabbage, I shouldn't wonder. Meat and two veg, with an extra helping of taking the piss. Honest to God, you'd think they could knock on the door and bring it in. Come and put it on my lap. Wouldn't kill them, you know. I wouldn't bite.
(This time, when he coughs into his handkerchief, there is blood. He pauses for a second, contemplates the fact, and then screws up the handkerchief and stuffs it quickly in his pocket.)
Doctor said I'm dying. Patted me gently on the shoulder, honest to God, and said I only had weeks left. Weeks left! Bet they're circling like vultures now. Circling and waiting for this old man to piss off and leave them be.
A man's got to eat, though. (He coughs again, splutters, and spits out more blood.) Nothing 'grand' about this father, honest to God. Scraps on the floor, but beggars can't choose. Didn't used to be like that, you know. (He walks to the door, opens it, and bends down, in pain, to pick up the tray of food.) I used to want to be an actor. When I was little. Honest to God...
Exemplar 2:
(A teenage girl sits on the edge of her bed, legs crossed, with headphones on and rocking gently to unheard music. Suddenly, she looks to the audience, takes off her headphones, and begins to speak.)
Typical: a premature peace offering before war had even been declared.
You keep your distance with a system of touch
And gentle persuasion
I was sitting in my bedroom, headphones clasped to my ears.
Tears for Fears. (How ironic.)
Head Over Heels. (My natural state, these days.)
Mum has started knocking on my door whenever she wants to see me. She says she is treating me like a grown-up; when all I want is to be treated like a child.
But I have taken to hiding in the sonic shelter of my headphones, and so I did not hear the knock on the door tonight, my heart jolting when she entered and dropped her hand on my shoulder. The headphone cord pulled on the music system and the record screeched as the needle, wisely, fled the scene.
Nothing ever changes when you’re acting your age.
Apparently.
“I hate it when you do that, mum," I said. "Look at that record! It’s ruined. I may as well throw it away.” And I grabbed the disk from the turntable and snapped it in two, tiny splinters of black vinyl spraying over both of us, one lodging itself in her left eye.
(She gets up off the bed and walks to the sideboard, gazing into the mirror.)
I stopped moving – breathing, even, for a moment – as she stared at her daughter, the silence punctured only by the rattle and swish of the turntable hitting the loose needle on each new spin. And then I saw it: just a trickle, a loose thread of deepest vermillion unravelling from the corner of her eye. So used to crying – especially in front of me – she carelessly brushed it away with her finger, but this smudged the red line creeping down her now crimson cheek.
As she lifted her hand to dry this persistent tear, she saw the red on her fingertip, and her startled expression made me laugh. I couldn't help it.
“When did you take her place, Saffy?" she snarled. "What happened to my little girl?” As she marched from the room, her hand an improvised gutter beneath the scarlet overflow, she threw the parcel on to my bed, and the tissue paper ripped as she did so, its secret spilling out on to my white duvet. (I preserve my innocence where I can.) The dress was velveteen, and dank with deepest indigo. I didn't need to read the label. I knew it wasn't from her.
(She goes back to her bed, puts back on her headphones, closes her eyes, and rocks again.)
Task 20: Dramatic Monologue
A fond (?) farewell to rhythm and meter for the time being...
For the next few tasks, we shall be concentrating on drama - and script-writing.
To start with, I would like us all to produce a piece of dramatic monologue.
The word Monologue comes from the Greek meaning ALONE (mono) SPEECH (logue). Similarly, the Latin language gave us Soliloquy, which also means the same. You can probably find lots of words in the English language which borrow one or other of these roots, e.g.: monocle, monocycle, monotonous, monochrome, dialogue, epilogue, prologue, solo, solitary, loquacious, eloquent etc.
So a piece of drama which we might call a monologue is, quite simply, a piece of drama spoken by only one person. Often, a monologue will be spoken in the absence of any other characters - like the opening to Willy Russell's play Shirley Valentine, in which a disgruntled housewife spends several minutes literally talking to the wall. The same is true, for example, in Alan Bennett's famous monologues, the Talking Heads series, in which the characters, alone in the film, simply speak to the camera.
This is an excellent way of providing a window into the thoughts and mind of a character, since they can betray and reveal information about themselves that dialogue with others would prevent. It is also a particularly direct (and therefore engaging) address of the audience, to which it is hard not to want to respond. Whilst a monologue performed badly can be boring beyond compare, performed well a solitary actor can mesmerise an entire theatre or cinema auditorium.
Sometimes, in a play involving several characters, one character might give a speech on their own - either to another character(s) or sometimes simply to the audience - and this delivery without interruption from other characters is usually called a soliloquy: slightly different from a play consisting entirely of monologue, but the same principle really.
So what makes a good monologue? Well, before I try and explain, it might be useful for you to look at the three following extracts, each taken from movies which consist at least in part of scripted monologue or soliloquy. Also, remember the play The Glass Menagerie, which we saw at the theatre in the summer? Tom Wingfield had several lengthy soliloquys there too...
- You need to develop and sustain a unique and appropriate STYLE OF SPEECH for your chosen character. Both the VOCABULARY they choose and the DIALECT they use need to reflect the person they are.
- It can be very useful to design a BACKSTORY. In other words, even though your monologue itself might only cover certain things, the more you know about your character's GENERAL LIFE and what makes them TICK, the more convincing the whole piece will be.
- A decent monologue never rambles or waffles; there is always a clear THREAD, and deliberate use of TENSION and NARRATIVE STRUCTURE to keep the audience listening and watching. A CLIMAX is essential, as is an arresting OPENING.
- Have fun with LANGUAGE - and with the character you have created. They can do/be/say anything you like, and so it is a shame to squander the opportunity by having someone cliched or unoriginal. So think long and hard about WHO they will be.
- You should introduce your monologue with a short amount of DESCRIPTION about the APPEARANCE of the character and the SETTING of the piece. This would be written in ITALICS. (Look at my attempt to see what I mean.) Also, you can include STAGE DIRECTIONS (again in italics, and in brackets too), to give your actor more information about HOW to read the part. N.B. All stage directions must be in the PRESENT TENSE.
- Lastly, remember that, unlike in prose fiction, there is NO NARRATOR. All the information we are given needs to come from the character's mouth (or appearance). Think about this when writing it: too much information, and it will become boring; too little, and we will be confused. This is DRAMA. This is THEATRE (or CINEMA). This is for PERFORMANCE.
Now it is down to you. My example(s) will follow shortly...
Your deadline, as you know, is MIDNIGHT on SATURDAY 23RD FEBRUARY.
Good luck... :)
Monday, 11 February 2008
Task 19- attempt 3 xD
I know you said you cared so much for me
But what you did with her, you crossed the line
My heart was locked, and you possessed the key
I wanted to become your valentine...
You thought you saw a tear roll down my face
But you should know, you'll never see me cry.
My tears will fall inside without a trace
It's inside that I hurt, that's where I cry.
Why buy her roses? Better buy a wreath
You'll kiss her lips instead of kissing mine
I'll smile, my feelings buried deep beneath
I wanted to become your valentine...
However hard I try to start anew,
You're holding her, I'm waiting here for you
But what you did with her, you crossed the line
My heart was locked, and you possessed the key
I wanted to become your valentine...
You thought you saw a tear roll down my face
But you should know, you'll never see me cry.
My tears will fall inside without a trace
It's inside that I hurt, that's where I cry.
Why buy her roses? Better buy a wreath
You'll kiss her lips instead of kissing mine
I'll smile, my feelings buried deep beneath
I wanted to become your valentine...
However hard I try to start anew,
You're holding her, I'm waiting here for you
LOVE
I thank the lord for creating cubid
the creator of love and affection
people mey feel as though I am stupid
hopefully my words will prove correction
love is the answer to our prayers
fulfills my desires that I yearn for
and guards me like a protective layer
resulting in me running back for more
not all love is as it is shown to be
more pain is felt that the true love itself
slowly but surely we begin to see
love comes with pain as the rich come with wealth
so prepare yourself and don't show a frown
as love will surely leave you feeling down.
the creator of love and affection
people mey feel as though I am stupid
hopefully my words will prove correction
love is the answer to our prayers
fulfills my desires that I yearn for
and guards me like a protective layer
resulting in me running back for more
not all love is as it is shown to be
more pain is felt that the true love itself
slowly but surely we begin to see
love comes with pain as the rich come with wealth
so prepare yourself and don't show a frown
as love will surely leave you feeling down.
Saturday, 9 February 2008
Task 19
Your love for me did burn so strong and bright
But I was filled with doubt and growing fear
You layed awake with thoughts of us at night
“I love you”, words I didn’t want to hear
You showered me with gifts I didn’t need
I dusted false affection over you
To me, our love resembled bitter weeds
I tried to love you but it wasn’t true
The day arrived to tell him how I felt
I needed space just just a silly boy
Before confession, he bowed and then knelt
“Marry me?”, this moment I cannot enjoy
I gently pressed my lips to his and said
This love we share, to me, is truly dead.
Almost Broken
Your Deadly Needle Punctures violently
My heart absorbs the pain; ingests the lies
Its Venom spreads afar, consuming me
Apparently you do enjoy my cries
The veil is gone and all I see is trash
I wish I could escape this shrinking cage
If only I could burn your lies to ash
I’m sure I could move on and turn the page
Although I’m doomed forever by your curse
I won’t give you a chance to view my strife
I’m ill, my heart is torn and there’s no nurse
But still I’m quite relieved that I have life
I can’t believe I thought our love was pure?
But Through the pain and hurt I will endure
Task 19
I loved him. I knew it had to be love
They told me I was infatuated
I told them not true, I was hand, He was glove
Because I knew what we had was sacred
So I texted and called him day in
Day out. Most of the time he texted and called back
He was mine. My world revolved around him
Then she came. She came and she attacked
Her hair, her eyes, she was beautiful
to him. She was the wicked witch to me
What was wrong with me? She was much more cool
Friends said it's not me, so I let them be
So now I walk by and watch them lock lips
Minding my business, that's my best tip
They told me I was infatuated
I told them not true, I was hand, He was glove
Because I knew what we had was sacred
So I texted and called him day in
Day out. Most of the time he texted and called back
He was mine. My world revolved around him
Then she came. She came and she attacked
Her hair, her eyes, she was beautiful
to him. She was the wicked witch to me
What was wrong with me? She was much more cool
Friends said it's not me, so I let them be
So now I walk by and watch them lock lips
Minding my business, that's my best tip
Task 19... A Love Story
I once ended a love so true and strong
It was a hot and sad summers night
There was a feel of something bad and wrong
And nothing of the day seemsto be right
And nothing of the day seemsto be right
And now there is this weird feeling inside
As if a guilt, harsh and dark forever
Our precious moments togather are few
Our precious moments togather are few
And i will keep them few close like treasure
Night comes, night goes my thoughts of you just grow
I dream of eyes so bright and comforting
I know that now i love you, just to show
i do, i will ask you; "be my darling"
So please i beg of you to not decline
I do insist, accept my valentine?
----------------------------------------------------------
cupids magic
when i could only be mulish in life
love couldn't be the only helping hand
i said i would give cupid all my strife
since i would not break my only demand
to me, the birds and bees have no duty
my mother reacted with a aha
when cupid had still not made me fruity
but puberty had took its toll on moi,
and i had changed forever and ever
just now at twelve i realised the truth
that way deep down i was eros' heir
and soon i would see when others, they sleuth
when valentines gave me some love unknown,
but i live knowing my love is a loan.
Mr. Wrong in a Thong
I've never had a love like this before
My feelings for him were ever so strong
I've never been in so much shock for sure
Until the day I saw him in a thong
He claimed that it was nothing but a joke
And it was nothing but a bit of fun
The one I love was scaring the old folk
He jumped up and fell flat on his bare bum
But he was so sad and so immature
I told the silly boy we had to talk
I told him I can't take it anymore
Because he kept on acting like a dork
I still love him up 'till this very day
But I cannot handle his childish ways.
My feelings for him were ever so strong
I've never been in so much shock for sure
Until the day I saw him in a thong
He claimed that it was nothing but a joke
And it was nothing but a bit of fun
The one I love was scaring the old folk
He jumped up and fell flat on his bare bum
But he was so sad and so immature
I told the silly boy we had to talk
I told him I can't take it anymore
Because he kept on acting like a dork
I still love him up 'till this very day
But I cannot handle his childish ways.
Task 19 - I'll be waiting
My love, it was for real and we both care
My time went by in thoughts of you and me
Our love; we seemed to make a perfect pair
I felt your warmth and love, that was the key
My heart was waiting for; it felt the air
Of love and everything was fine with you
I had no fear and not a single tear
The most extraordinary love, it’s true
But then you left and I was on my own
My heart it felt the pain but still wants you
You’re look it made my heart cold like a stone
I thought we were one soul but now we’re two
I’ll still be waiting, till the day I die
And even after life, it's not a lie.
I need an answer
I need you with me in eternal love
We need to show the world how well it’s done
We can go further than a flock of doves
So join me now for one last glimpse of fun
You may ask people if pure love is true
When people answer make sure they’re for real
And most answers should tell, if it's for you
When answers come it answer’s how you feel
I give you time to think about this life
In time, you will understand my meaning
When feelings arrive they will ease your strife
But don’t think this is what I like pleading
So Now, I leave decisions up to you
If you do love me let me know, please do!
We need to show the world how well it’s done
We can go further than a flock of doves
So join me now for one last glimpse of fun
You may ask people if pure love is true
When people answer make sure they’re for real
And most answers should tell, if it's for you
When answers come it answer’s how you feel
I give you time to think about this life
In time, you will understand my meaning
When feelings arrive they will ease your strife
But don’t think this is what I like pleading
So Now, I leave decisions up to you
If you do love me let me know, please do!
A grave farewell
At first you were the man I did adore
The way you stared, your tender loving eyes.
This maybe love but it can be no more,
For my true love is back, with a surprise.
I know he shares my feelings of true love;
He loves me with a passion that’s so true.
I love him more than I could ever love,
Yet you are always on my mind like glue.
I try to let you go, you still hold on.
It may be harsh but I give you advice,
If you love me, admit that I have gone.
There’s plenty more out there, that will suffice.
You will get through this and you will be strong
The bond we shared we knew would not last long.
Friday, 8 February 2008
One Way Love
The fact you choose to still push me away
And act as though I'm never really there
You seem as though you've nothing much to say
You treat me like you think that this fair
I cry and cry just hoping that you'll see
The hold you have on me is just not right
I'm hoping someday that you will agree
The hold you have on me is just too tight
You say that this is just the way I feel
And that for you it just is not the same
You seem to think that I can cope and deal
When will you see my love is not a game
But I can't take it I have had enough
It seems to be that this is one way love
And act as though I'm never really there
You seem as though you've nothing much to say
You treat me like you think that this fair
I cry and cry just hoping that you'll see
The hold you have on me is just not right
I'm hoping someday that you will agree
The hold you have on me is just too tight
You say that this is just the way I feel
And that for you it just is not the same
You seem to think that I can cope and deal
When will you see my love is not a game
But I can't take it I have had enough
It seems to be that this is one way love
Hate that I love you
Loveless nights and reminicscenses of you,
You liked to be reffered to as Jayden.
All that heartbreak, and ache you put me through?
You proved to be amongst all other men,
You fight and you argue, PLEASE JAYDEN STOP.
I cry and weep until my eyes are dead,
You shout some more; you're again back on top.
Do I still love you and meant what I said?
But you stare so deep into my cried eyes,
"I'm sorry babe. I just made a mistake"
An expected response, surprise surprise
"Please Jenny, I'd do whatever it takes'
You say that you're not like all other men.
I guess I've started loving you again...
You liked to be reffered to as Jayden.
All that heartbreak, and ache you put me through?
You proved to be amongst all other men,
You fight and you argue, PLEASE JAYDEN STOP.
I cry and weep until my eyes are dead,
You shout some more; you're again back on top.
Do I still love you and meant what I said?
But you stare so deep into my cried eyes,
"I'm sorry babe. I just made a mistake"
An expected response, surprise surprise
"Please Jenny, I'd do whatever it takes'
You say that you're not like all other men.
I guess I've started loving you again...
deadly love
our love deserved better than what we gave
deprived we tried to melt the ice around
yet even when we discuss we cannot save
the lust the love achieved when we were bound
so now it seems cupids bewitched my heart
and left my loves, my wifes blood pump switched off
although he knew we were a work of art
and she was ill :love sick ,not just a cough.
its over now and im convinced we hid
the one relationship that i regret
you don't deserve applause for what you did
as now you are asleep,no more a threat
so babe,sorry it had to end in death
but your control led you to your last breath.
p.s i think that class has helped a bit lol
deprived we tried to melt the ice around
yet even when we discuss we cannot save
the lust the love achieved when we were bound
so now it seems cupids bewitched my heart
and left my loves, my wifes blood pump switched off
although he knew we were a work of art
and she was ill :love sick ,not just a cough.
its over now and im convinced we hid
the one relationship that i regret
you don't deserve applause for what you did
as now you are asleep,no more a threat
so babe,sorry it had to end in death
but your control led you to your last breath.
the end!
p.s i think that class has helped a bit lol
Your valentine- attempt 2.
I know you said you cared so much for me
But what you did with her, you crossed the line
My heart was locked, and you possessed the key
I wanted to become your valentine...
You thought you saw a tear roll down my face
But you should know, I never cry.
My tears will fall inside without a trace
It's the inside that I hurt, that's where I cry.
Why buy her roses? Better buy her a wreath
You'll kiss her lips instead of kissing mine
I'll smile, my feelings buried deep beneath
But I wanted to become your valentine...
However hard I try to start anew,
You're holding her, and I'm waiting here for you
Thursday, 7 February 2008
Lovestruck
Because you are one charming masterpiece,
My love for you will thread eternity.
Like time, your love will never once decease,
Your touch and warmth can spell infinity.
An empty glass then, I was lost and scared,
Until you found your way to make me laugh.
Your smile just filled me up full and declared,
You're mine, my jewel, my soul, my other half.
But truth and such can leave me lovestruck still,
Because with every good cop brings a bad.
My mind was blinded, I was fooled until,
You're absence flaw revealed that you're a dad.
Love proved to me you were my soul mate then,
Now say farewell, and wave goodbye, again.
Wednesday, 6 February 2008
Sorry? Yh right!
He looks at her with disbelieving eyes
He watches her when even he’s not seen
He listens to her indecisive lies
He observes that inside she’s pure obscene
He feels that she does nothing but deceive
He senses that its time he should move on.
His feelings are not clear as they can be,
Perhaps he’ll heed them when she’s far and gone.
Perplexity was simply to be blamed
Which left him to feel nothing but regret
For that soul who played fair in this love game
And in return acquired pure neglect
His comfort words were commonly unique
‘Im sorry’. Oh what words of sympathy.
He watches her when even he’s not seen
He listens to her indecisive lies
He observes that inside she’s pure obscene
He feels that she does nothing but deceive
He senses that its time he should move on.
His feelings are not clear as they can be,
Perhaps he’ll heed them when she’s far and gone.
Perplexity was simply to be blamed
Which left him to feel nothing but regret
For that soul who played fair in this love game
And in return acquired pure neglect
His comfort words were commonly unique
‘Im sorry’. Oh what words of sympathy.
Nothing but a Tear
He gave all the lines and everything.
My Mind in constant thought of what’s ahead,
I never thought of Hatred as anything.
When he did what he did to me back then...
Now Love is no longer a part of me,
His ego was way bigger than Big Ben;
My friends told me he would prick like a bee.
But me being me, I never listened,
I know I was being so, so stupid
But I couldn’t help it his eyes glistened.
Love doesn’t exist... nor does that cupid
And Now Valentine’s Day is almost here,
There is nothing in my eyes but a tear
Tuesday, 5 February 2008
Your valentine
I know you never cared much about me
But what you did with her, you crossed the line
My heart was locked, only you had the key
And I wanted to be your valentine.
You thought you saw a tear roll down my face
But you should know by now, I never cry.
Sadness on the outside? Never a trace
On the inside I hurt, that's where I cry.
And you'll buy her roses on the 14th,
You'll be kissing her lips instead of mine.
I'll smile, my feelings buried deep beneath,
But I wanted to be your valentine.
Now that I'm sitting here thinking it through,
You're holding her, and I'm longing for you
Valentines Sonnet
It feels like love is synonomous with pain
she caught me, reeled me in and bound me tight
she chose my soul to torture and to maim
while my love wanders lonely like a kite
I like to argue with her even though
she twists my words, she cuts right through my pleas
i told her that i loved her she said: 'So?'
my valentine had brought me to my knees.
i said to her that i would find a girl
who'd love me for myself and nothing more
she'd care for me, we'd be eachothers world
she wished me luck and lauged me out the door.
so i just wandered home back to my mum
the only girl where i'd be number one
she caught me, reeled me in and bound me tight
she chose my soul to torture and to maim
while my love wanders lonely like a kite
I like to argue with her even though
she twists my words, she cuts right through my pleas
i told her that i loved her she said: 'So?'
my valentine had brought me to my knees.
i said to her that i would find a girl
who'd love me for myself and nothing more
she'd care for me, we'd be eachothers world
she wished me luck and lauged me out the door.
so i just wandered home back to my mum
the only girl where i'd be number one
A Warning
The love songs make a happy ending seem
As if it lies in store for everyone;
And Hollywood proliferates the dream
That clouds will not asphyxiate the sun.
Romantic books perpetuate the lie
That love will come to all of us in time;
And teenage magazines will never shy
Away from painting romance as sublime.
To all of you whose gullibility
Sees cupids propaganda as a fact,
Please hear me out, for I can guarantee:
'Repel' is far more common than 'Attract'.
To love is to relinquish all control
And place yourself in jail without parole.
As if it lies in store for everyone;
And Hollywood proliferates the dream
That clouds will not asphyxiate the sun.
Romantic books perpetuate the lie
That love will come to all of us in time;
And teenage magazines will never shy
Away from painting romance as sublime.
To all of you whose gullibility
Sees cupids propaganda as a fact,
Please hear me out, for I can guarantee:
'Repel' is far more common than 'Attract'.
To love is to relinquish all control
And place yourself in jail without parole.
The knew and improved:Task 19-Not a good love
He keep me company when i'm alone.
His face lights up just like a happy child
He teases me and I get cross and mad
He tells me that he was only joking.
But then I see him kiss another girl
He tells me that it's not what it looks like
I don't want to know and I don't listen
I feel it's injustice and i'm angry
He tells me that he's not my valentine
Because he likes some ugly different girl.
I told him to stuff his sorries for good
The trash was taken out and and i'm OK!
I heard he's going out with a new girl
I hope, that she dumped him cos he's a fool.
Saturday, 2 February 2008
Wasted love: a sonnet
Here's my first attempt. See if you can find the one iambic error:
I'm ten years old when first I fall in love
And Jennifer is my beloved's name.
An angel who has tumbled from above,
She kindles in my heart a burning flame.
And when she asks to be my Valentine,
I can't believe what I am being told.
She offers me her heart; I give her mine,
Together with a chain of fakest gold.
But later, when she gives my love the sack,
Repudiating every vain embrace,
I make it clear I want the trinket back
And, tearful, Jenny throws it in my face.
Misunderstood and unrequited too,
My love found none deserving until you.
Task 19: Valentine's Day SONNET
Right.
Most of you are pretty clear on iambic meter, and so you shouldn't find this task as difficult as you did last time.
Some of you are still struggling with iambs, though, and I will be in my office the whole of lunchtime on Monday 4th Feb to explain it to you in person, in case any of you need that extra helping hand.
Of those of you pretty confident with iambs, some of you are still ending iambic lines with an anapest: remember that just because a three syllable word STARTS with a stressed syllable does not NECESSARILY mean that the third syllable is stressed too - so be CAREFUL.
Now, to remind you of the rules of sonnet writing I would like you to follow:
- Length: 14 lines
- Meter: iambic pentameter (i.e. 5 beats, 10 syllables, starts with an unstressed syllable, ends with a stressed one etc.) - dee-DUM dee-DUM dee-DUM dee-DUM dee-DUM
- Rhyme scheme: ababcdcdefefgg
- Structure: Octave (first 8 lines) should mark a slight change of theme/mood to the Sestet (last 6 lines)
- Topic: LOVE (but it doesn't have to be soppy or saccharine, unless you want it to be)
- Deadline: midnight on Saturday 9th February
Now try to make these PERFECT, and keep redrafting until you have managed perfection. If you all do really well on this task, we will leave poetry for several months and get working on some dramatic monologues with Task 20.
Lastly, you are welcome to post more than one if you have the time and inclination.
Oh, and anyone who misses the deadline from now on, without prior permission from me, is out of the workshop with immediate effect - and will not be allowed on the upcoming theatre trip either. (I'm not being nasty; I'm being firm!)
Good luck!
P.S. I shall post my attempt separately...
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