Saturday, February 14, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Short Play
------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------
This is another writing experiment. It was inspired by a post the Crow put up a week ago entitled Show, and by the writing of Beckett, who I've been reading lately. I'd also like to thank Derliwall for editorial support. I'm interested to know what you all may think about this piece. Thanks. The Hopper.
------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------
Front curtain rises.
The stage is set such that members of the audience seem to be watching the scene from behind.
Stage left a coat tree, wooden. Front center, a stool. Middle right, a rocking chair, facing away from audience. Taped to the back of the rocker, three white cue cards, each with a different actor's script. Blood drips from the rocker, forming a puddle on the floor.
Three actors, back to audience, arms raised overhead as though about to take a bow. Their costumes indicate that they were in a cowboy play, neckerchiefs, boots and spurs. Actor one (left), a young girl, wearing a summer dress, holding a six-shooter aloft in her left hand. Actor two (mid), a man, wearing denim jeans and a white shirt, soaked in blood, as are his hands, arms and neck. Actor three (right), a man, wearing black pants, a black jacket, empty holsters on each hip, holding a six shooter aloft in his right hand. The actors take a bow.
Sound of loud applause, cheering and whistling. Curtain falls along the back wall. Sound of applause and cheering continues.
Actors embrace and pat one another on the backs, jubilant. Exit left. Fading sound of applause.
Sound of murmuring and indistinct conversation, commotion and shuffle of theater emptying. Sound fading for one minute. Quiet din.
Sound of distant door closing. All quiet.
Stage left, enter cleaner pushing a trolley equipped with mop, bucket, towels and other cleaning supplies. Garbage bag hangs off the side. A typical cleaning cart. Cleaner is an older man, gray hair, dressed in an suit, threadbare, a tweed salt and pepper hat on his head. Walks with a limp in his right leg, making his movement slow.
Pushes trolley slowly towards middle of the stage. Stops when reaches center, humming as he goes.
Limps to the back of the stage, lifts up curtain, peers out. Drops curtain, turns, limps back to trolley. Looks around stage as he goes.
Abruptly stops humming. Notices blood on floor and seat of rocking chair. Grumbles and curses under his breath, shaking his head. Sighs.
Dunks mop in bucket of water. Wrings mop laboriously. Moves slowly towards rocker. Begins to mop blood. The mopping spreads the blood into streaks. Much more red on floor. More grumbling.
Stops mopping. Goes back to trolley. Puts mop in bucket and looks around stage, fuming.
Takes towel from trolley, laboriously begins to scrub floor on hands and knees, sopping up the blood and water. Towel stains bright red.
Struggles to get up. Throws spent towel in garbage bag. Takes another towel from trolley.
Goes back to rocker. Kneels down to start scrubbing when he notices the three cue cards taped to the rocking chair. He looks at each one.
Pulls a card free from rocker. Stands up. Reads card more attentively. Looks stage left, disturbed.
Limps to coat tree, mumbling to himself as he continues to read card. Tips his hat towards the stool. Mimes taking off a coat and hanging it on the tree.
Cleaner (in a bad western accent): Howdy.
Pause.
Cleaner: You know why I'm here lil' missie?
Pause.
Cleaner: No. I ain't gonna kill your pa.
Pause.
Cleaner: You'se is gonna kill your pa.
Front curtain falls.
------------------------------------------
This is another writing experiment. It was inspired by a post the Crow put up a week ago entitled Show, and by the writing of Beckett, who I've been reading lately. I'd also like to thank Derliwall for editorial support. I'm interested to know what you all may think about this piece. Thanks. The Hopper.
------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------
Front curtain rises.
The stage is set such that members of the audience seem to be watching the scene from behind.
Stage left a coat tree, wooden. Front center, a stool. Middle right, a rocking chair, facing away from audience. Taped to the back of the rocker, three white cue cards, each with a different actor's script. Blood drips from the rocker, forming a puddle on the floor.
Three actors, back to audience, arms raised overhead as though about to take a bow. Their costumes indicate that they were in a cowboy play, neckerchiefs, boots and spurs. Actor one (left), a young girl, wearing a summer dress, holding a six-shooter aloft in her left hand. Actor two (mid), a man, wearing denim jeans and a white shirt, soaked in blood, as are his hands, arms and neck. Actor three (right), a man, wearing black pants, a black jacket, empty holsters on each hip, holding a six shooter aloft in his right hand. The actors take a bow.
Sound of loud applause, cheering and whistling. Curtain falls along the back wall. Sound of applause and cheering continues.
Actors embrace and pat one another on the backs, jubilant. Exit left. Fading sound of applause.
Sound of murmuring and indistinct conversation, commotion and shuffle of theater emptying. Sound fading for one minute. Quiet din.
Sound of distant door closing. All quiet.
Stage left, enter cleaner pushing a trolley equipped with mop, bucket, towels and other cleaning supplies. Garbage bag hangs off the side. A typical cleaning cart. Cleaner is an older man, gray hair, dressed in an suit, threadbare, a tweed salt and pepper hat on his head. Walks with a limp in his right leg, making his movement slow.
Pushes trolley slowly towards middle of the stage. Stops when reaches center, humming as he goes.
Limps to the back of the stage, lifts up curtain, peers out. Drops curtain, turns, limps back to trolley. Looks around stage as he goes.
Abruptly stops humming. Notices blood on floor and seat of rocking chair. Grumbles and curses under his breath, shaking his head. Sighs.
Dunks mop in bucket of water. Wrings mop laboriously. Moves slowly towards rocker. Begins to mop blood. The mopping spreads the blood into streaks. Much more red on floor. More grumbling.
Stops mopping. Goes back to trolley. Puts mop in bucket and looks around stage, fuming.
Takes towel from trolley, laboriously begins to scrub floor on hands and knees, sopping up the blood and water. Towel stains bright red.
Struggles to get up. Throws spent towel in garbage bag. Takes another towel from trolley.
Goes back to rocker. Kneels down to start scrubbing when he notices the three cue cards taped to the rocking chair. He looks at each one.
Pulls a card free from rocker. Stands up. Reads card more attentively. Looks stage left, disturbed.
Limps to coat tree, mumbling to himself as he continues to read card. Tips his hat towards the stool. Mimes taking off a coat and hanging it on the tree.
Cleaner (in a bad western accent): Howdy.
Pause.
Cleaner: You know why I'm here lil' missie?
Pause.
Cleaner: No. I ain't gonna kill your pa.
Pause.
Cleaner: You'se is gonna kill your pa.
Front curtain falls.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Adaptation
-------------------------------------------
I must be standing on a hill,
some way from the village.
I can see the vineyards and gardens,
thatched roofs. The stars adrift
in light cloud cover, almost golden
the rolling hills like
a tide about to wash in.
An explosion at the point of perspective,
searing the canvass,
what could have been a tree,
surely a spotlight in the sky,
a fleet of bombers and the hills
the head of a hammer.
Pardon my grammar.
It was a starry, starry night.
-------------------------------------------
the opening of Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett:
A country road. A tree.
Evening.
Estragon, sitting on a low mound, is trying to take off his boot. He pulls at it with both hands, panting. He gives up, exhausted, rests, tries again. As before....
-------------------------------------------
from Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra:
Here the young man fell silent. And Zarathustra contemplated the tree beside which they were standing, and spoke thus:
'This tree stands here alone on the mountainside; it has grown up high above man and animal.
'And if it wished to speak, it would find no one who understood it: so high has it grown.
'Now it waits and waits -- yet what is it waiting for? It lives too near the seat of the clouds: is it waiting, perhaps, for the first lightening?'
----------------------------------------------
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
-----------------------------
................................................................................................................................................... is silence............................lack of speech..................time remaining...............as punctuation...........the envelope................words left out...........................what is memory............see the photographs............................shoebox...............kite................burial ground for breakfast.......................................traffic light..........what is the truth about.........when there are many possible truths about..........what are we..................spaces between................................................................................................................................................................................
-----------------------------
................................................................................................................................................... is silence............................lack of speech..................time remaining...............as punctuation...........the envelope................words left out...........................what is memory............see the photographs............................shoebox...............kite................burial ground for breakfast.......................................traffic light..........what is the truth about.........when there are many possible truths about..........what are we..................spaces between................................................................................................................................................................................
-----------------------------
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Thus Spake the Crow...: Broken...
To thank the Crow for so many years of support and caring...
Visit tartx blog (You know, that "BWO" with a nice silhouette of a crow on the side) to learn more about blogging without obligation. Please feel free to share any ideas or thoughts about why writing in this form is important to you. Why are you a blogger?
Any comments you'd like to leave for the Crow, who is a teacher to so many of us, leave them here. I'll see if there isn't some way to pass them on.
Sincerely,
The Hopper-scribe
Thus Spake the Crow...: Broken...
Visit tartx blog (You know, that "BWO" with a nice silhouette of a crow on the side) to learn more about blogging without obligation. Please feel free to share any ideas or thoughts about why writing in this form is important to you. Why are you a blogger?
Any comments you'd like to leave for the Crow, who is a teacher to so many of us, leave them here. I'll see if there isn't some way to pass them on.
Sincerely,
The Hopper-scribe
Thus Spake the Crow...: Broken...
Friday, January 16, 2009
-------------------
-------------------
-------------------
I'd almost forgotten about it until the other day.
When it came it was bubble wrapped and taped,
The tinsel and ribbon poking out through the gaps.
As the UPS guy handed it to me it rattled,
Something inside gave way and the package shifted,
The sound of broken glass. Forget how much you don't want this,
Forget that you should run out into the streets,
Heave it into the air! "It must must have been damaged
In transport," he said. "Hope it wasn't anything important."
He turned and walked away, smug in his assurance
It was delivered as it had been packaged.
The card was stapled on the outside.
-------------------
-------------------
I'd almost forgotten about it until the other day.
When it came it was bubble wrapped and taped,
The tinsel and ribbon poking out through the gaps.
As the UPS guy handed it to me it rattled,
Something inside gave way and the package shifted,
The sound of broken glass. Forget how much you don't want this,
Forget that you should run out into the streets,
Heave it into the air! "It must must have been damaged
In transport," he said. "Hope it wasn't anything important."
He turned and walked away, smug in his assurance
It was delivered as it had been packaged.
The card was stapled on the outside.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Has Anyone Seen Fern?
colourable, best described
windows, frames laying an overcheck
on the path, dark roots a
hush spreads the mist
settling like a song,
corduroy.
windows, frames laying an overcheck
on the path, dark roots a
hush spreads the mist
settling like a song,
corduroy.
Friday, December 19, 2008
id -- an answer to echo
id
semiotic spaces
ungrammatically linguistic
primal utterance of elements
subatomic fractals seed
flower
seed
flowering swirling mass of subjectivity
never fully formed absolute
only uncertainty exploring forgetting itself
id
semiotic spaces
ungrammatically linguistic
primal utterance of elements
subatomic fractals seed
flower
seed
flowering swirling mass of subjectivity
never fully formed absolute
only uncertainty exploring forgetting itself
id
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Meta-Mathematics
----------
1 + 1 = 2
this is called deja vu
what do you think
are you reading this new
or have you been here
B4
----------
# of funerals you've attended
over
# of weddings you've attended
is a function of your indifference
----------
( your age x 1.5 ) - 7 = oldest age of lovers you should take
----------
the time it takes a space spider to spin its web is inversely proportional to the reason the ocean bleeds roses in April
----------
happiness divided by regret is ignorance squared
----------
greed to the power of power is insanity
and also equals money
(which we know from previous proofs to be the root of all evil)
----------
surface area of covers you steal
x
surface area of the bed you usurp
=
time you spend in the doghouse
----------
twice nothing is nothing
----------
hope + fear + sun + trees + alone + houses + books + helping + guilt + boldness + self-deprecation + moonlight + childhood + water + writing + perhaps + running + fall + bees + hardwood floors + legs + variety + watermelon + forts in the woods + tears + screaming from the rooftops + coffee + cormorant + freshly cut grass + oranges + doubt + friendship + wind + learning + losing + crawling in the gutters + when it all first came crashing down + sugar + work + what we most want + what was before we remember + all those things that will remain unknown = life
----------
M(everyth(I)ng)E
***which is to say that I am in everything and everything is also in me***
----------
The shortest distance between two points is a writer and a beer.
----------
a dessert often served with ice cream and coming in forms such as pumpkin, hoof, rhubarb, blackberry, entrails, cream of toast, etc. is 3.14159265358979323846... (but I can't tell you why)
----------
1, 2, 3, 4
who's opinion matters more?
2, 4, 6, 8
whose do we appreciate?
not others (CLAP! CLAP!)
not others (CLAP! CLAP!)
----------
horseshoeampersandtruthallpossibleworldshawkslogicsebillieseergofortebussesineronobiliedemistruxsewasinemcowsandux
----------
in the end
everything will be OK
people do whatever they have to do in order to make themselves happy
because if it isn't OK
then it's not the end
----------
your greatest joy is equivalent to your greatest sorrow
----------
the only thing less than your time is the time you don't take listening to other
----------
life = love = life = love = life = love = life = love = life = love ...
1 + 1 = 2
this is called deja vu
what do you think
are you reading this new
or have you been here
B4
----------
# of funerals you've attended
over
# of weddings you've attended
is a function of your indifference
----------
( your age x 1.5 ) - 7 = oldest age of lovers you should take
----------
the time it takes a space spider to spin its web is inversely proportional to the reason the ocean bleeds roses in April
----------
happiness divided by regret is ignorance squared
----------
greed to the power of power is insanity
and also equals money
(which we know from previous proofs to be the root of all evil)
----------
surface area of covers you steal
x
surface area of the bed you usurp
=
time you spend in the doghouse
----------
twice nothing is nothing
----------
hope + fear + sun + trees + alone + houses + books + helping + guilt + boldness + self-deprecation + moonlight + childhood + water + writing + perhaps + running + fall + bees + hardwood floors + legs + variety + watermelon + forts in the woods + tears + screaming from the rooftops + coffee + cormorant + freshly cut grass + oranges + doubt + friendship + wind + learning + losing + crawling in the gutters + when it all first came crashing down + sugar + work + what we most want + what was before we remember + all those things that will remain unknown = life
----------
M(everyth(I)ng)E
***which is to say that I am in everything and everything is also in me***
----------
The shortest distance between two points is a writer and a beer.
----------
a dessert often served with ice cream and coming in forms such as pumpkin, hoof, rhubarb, blackberry, entrails, cream of toast, etc. is 3.14159265358979323846... (but I can't tell you why)
----------
1, 2, 3, 4
who's opinion matters more?
2, 4, 6, 8
whose do we appreciate?
not others (CLAP! CLAP!)
not others (CLAP! CLAP!)
----------
horseshoeampersandtruthallpossibleworldshawkslogicsebillieseergofortebussesineronobiliedemistruxsewasinemcowsandux
----------
in the end
everything will be OK
people do whatever they have to do in order to make themselves happy
because if it isn't OK
then it's not the end
----------
your greatest joy is equivalent to your greatest sorrow
----------
the only thing less than your time is the time you don't take listening to other
----------
life = love = life = love = life = love = life = love = life = love ...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)