Interactive Session 10

17 Apr

Hello Members!

Welcome to the tenth round of the interactive session. In this session we have works by Kieran Owl, Natasha Pasch, Catherine Schythe, Souradeep Roy and Michelle D’Costa

Don’t forget to post in your critiques!

1.Love is no door mat.

-Catherine Schythe

 Kim is in love with a man that doesn’t treat her they way she desires to be treated; she is torn between her emotions of love and anger.

 Kim: Why that rechart bastard!!! He always expects me to answer to him whenever he wants!! And what do I do?? I go ahead and answer! I’m like that little soft, sweet little girl that just does whatever he wants. Argh! I get so annoyed at myself! He has a way with words you know, all soft and sweet and loving, but when it comes to doing things I want, he’s always too busy. Can you believe that?? Too busy to answer my texts, too busy to answer my calls, too busy to go out when I want too, too busy for anything! Do I look like freaking door mat? Do I have a sign on me that says walk all over me? Geez, he makes me mad (squints her eyes as she says this), and do you know what I do? Turn into freaking jelly at the sound of his voice and go “oh ok, no worries, when you can, I love you”, (in a soft sweet tone voice). I feel so stupid! But ohh I love him (pause), he can be the most loving person anyone can meet. I melt when he messages me or sends me flowers. His beautiful looks leave me looking like a little girl all soft and sweet, who’s got a teenage crush on some guy. (Smiles). But when he doesn’t reply? (angry look again) rage, absolute rage, my system is like a red dragon, steaming from all places, (exaggerates hand movements) all I need do is spit out the fire and burn him to a crisp! Do you think I’m losing the plot? No, seriously, be honest with me, because maybe I am, anyone would feel the same way right? I mean who puts up with this shit? Just wait until I see him, I will tell him what manipulator he is and hopefully even slap him!!! I don’t care if I’m cringing inside to hug him and tell him how much I love him. I won’t fall for it, no, no, no, I won’t! I will stand my ground, like a good strong woman who fights for her rights, even if his beautiful sky blue eyes are just hypnotizing me , no, no, no, I will fight it. (She walks up and down really fast, breathing heavily). (Phone rings) Is that him on the phone? (Stops and looks).

2. Prisoner of Pain

– Catherine Schythe

 Sarah’s daughter has been sentenced to jail; she is struggling in coming to terms with the sentence and how this will affect her granddaughter’s future.

Sarah’s daughter has been sentenced to jail; she is struggling in coming to terms with the sentence and how this will affect her granddaughter’s future.

Sarah: I don’t think she understands the severity of the situation; she hasn’t reacted to this whole situation at all!! It’s almost like everything is normal, and it isn’t!! She’s being sentenced to jail!! Why? Why did she do that? Why? Does she not know the damage this has caused to everyone affected? Let alone how this has affected her future and Angela’s?  I’m heartbroken; the last thing I ever wanted was to see was my daughter been charged for murder. (Breaks down in tears). My baby girl ruined her life!! Why? Why God Why? (Puts her hands to her face). She’s a criminal! A bloody criminal! Her poor daughter, she’s only 7 you know! Now she has to grow up knowing her mum is a criminal and will have to visit her in prison! This is a nightmare, a blatant nightmare and I wish I could wake up and it would be all over, but it’s not, it’s my horrible reality. How do you explain to a little girl her mother killed her dad? How? How does a little girl process such horrible information? I need help to deal with all of this. (Takes a breath and pauses). If I don’t get help, I’m going to go down too and I can’t. (Pulls out a cigarette and lights it). I’m responsible for poor little Angela now, she is my little angel to look after. I will look after her and give her the best I can. I wish I could turn back time and maybe I could have done something to prevent this, but I can’t! (Sighs and shakes her head as she smokes). Stupid, stupid girl! Life will never be the same, we will never be the same.

3. I have lozenges for you

-Souradeep Roy

 
I have lozenges for you
In ripe mango and unripe mango flavor.
Made by a New Delhi company.
One full packet with four lozenges
Of ripe and unripe mango flavor
Costs just two rupees, two rupees, two rupees.
Buy one and if you like it
Take many more home.
One packet two rupees
And three packets
Just
Five rupees, five rupees, five rupees.
When you have one in this heat
Inside this bus compartment
You’ll feel you’re having real, ripe mangoes
In a mango orchard.
And if you don’t like it
Throw it out of the window
And don’t pay a paisa.
 
How many packets do you need?
One packet two rupees.
No, I can’t give it for a rupee;
This is a New Delhi company product.
Three packets will cost five rupees.
 
Lozenges for you
In ripe mango
 and unripe mango
 flavor.
Made by a
New
Delhi
company.
One full packet with four lozenges
Of ripe and unripe mango
flavor
Costs just
two rupees, two rupees, two rupees.
Buy one
and if you
 like it
Take many more
 home.
One packet two rupees
And three packets
Just
Five rupees,
five rupees,
five
rupees.
When you
Have
one in this heat
Inside this bus
compartment
You’ll feel
 you’re
having
real,
 ripe
mangoes
In a mango orchard.
And
if
you
don’t
 like
it
Throw it out of the window
And don’t pay a paisa.
 

4. A Mortal 

-Michelle D’costa

 I try to beat the sun
In crossing the sand
 
Pleading it
To be submissive for once
 
And the greedy foam
Of the water
From lapping
Little shells, homes
Into its hungry mouth
 
Wanting it
To downplay its mightiness for once
 
I try to follow
Little pigeon foot prints
Hoping
I can achieve something
You haven’t even tried
I fail miserably
In all the three
But none make me feel worse
Than when each alphabet
Of my name
Is washed off
From the shore
I try not
To feel insulted
But all my previous failures
Now seem minuscule
When I know
That even if I had won
My name
Will only be known
For that split second
Before it’s washed away
By You

5. September 16, 1982

-Natasha Pasch
Why does this exact moment seem so blurred, withdrawn, and non-existent? My own thoughts are escaping me. This cold chair lingers and is immobile– never changing.
 The sheets at home, crisp and white like summer’s country fields–they smell familiar. This pencil, short and stubby like the rest of the warriors aligned on the back panel of my desk. *sigh*……
Clenching my fists is just the first, until my face pours and drains with the red. Then will I know my frustrations have got the best of me. GRRRRRRRR!
I am too angry and worried to cry. I sit in panic, twiddling my thumbs, and feeling as if my head will implode. This weathered away coffee shop has become my home over the past few years. It is safe.
It has become ever so hard to write these days. I have been gone for too long, but I need a rejuvenated start.A NEW CHAPTER —goddamnit. I slam my fists into the cherry wood.
No one is here this early, so no strange looks point towards me.
Looking back.Which was only a week ago.
Flashes gone but taxis, streetlights, beggars, choosers, wanters, posers—it NEVER ends.  Why would I want that life? Do I want that life? This decision between needing and wanting.For what?—Money. That is it.
Money rules the world.At least mine.
If it were up to me, I’d go anywhere, but here or there. Perhaps it would be nice to travel to a new land. See and immerse myself in cultures —my body lifting and becoming a new.
Why do I fucking do this to myself!??
EVERY.TIME.
I question – overanalyze—stir in my bed—break shit—dance all night—eat my feelings.
All for what?
Escape—
 Chaos equals hiding in my tortoise shell. I WANT—wait—NEED to get away from the winding destruction of the last 2 decades. So, do I choose money and experience for the familiar? But when the familiar strains- there is only one answer right?!?!
 Right?
 I hope YOU are listening. Just please listen to me because no one else will. No one wants my thoughts. Struggle is just the body being weak and damned.
Please, will someone wait for me…..Because that is all I am asking?Hoping.
 I need a partner —partner in crime. I just can’t do this on my own —
I just can’t —
 So I write this hoping that it will be found. Found by another lonesome, disheveled, fucked up human being as myself.
I just want to be me.
 Contact at 620-435-7631                  The name is Rose.
 I walk out of the coffee shop. As the bell rings, the door slowly comes to a close. I wonder what is to come next. 
 

6. Graveyard of Goodbyes

– Kieran Rundle
 Spin me a dress
of crimson black lace
from a black widow’s web
of elegance and grace.
 
Let my feet be bare,
yet drenched in velvet blood,
that leaks from my wrists
congealing like mud.
 
My hands remain clenched
like they’re clutching the fear.
And where nail meets palm
is a ruby silhouetted tear.
 
Reveal my hair in curls
and a bun atop my head.
I was beautiful then
so I’ll be exquisite dead.
 
Don’t force my eyes shut
for their blue ice shall char you.
And perhaps when you’ll see them
and wish your tainted words true.
 
Make up my face
to its peaceful perfection.
To never reveal a flaw
death was the only direction.
 
My voice drowned with the lies
that I told for protection
against the monsters in my past
and the ends of the inception.
 
Polish me a casket
of gleaming words in oak.
And my truths shall all hide
for of them I never spoke.
 
Line it with silk
woven from those long ago.
My wearing of lost ghosts
is much more than a show.
 
Sing me a ballad
that my loved ones wrote.
A song of their perceptions
of my loss of all hope.
 
Leave the lid to my box
open until the last second.
They made me their doll
and to death I was beckoned.
 
They wanted me perfect
with an innocence like light.
But everyone who gazed upon me
shoved me into the night.
 
Mama forgive me,
but your baby had to go.
I love you and forgive you
I was never good enough, you know.
 
Daddy forgive me,
your little girl had to pay.
But I love you and forgive you
for all of those silent days.
 
Then at a razing pure sunset,
slide me under the earth.
There will be crying and smiling,
for I’m now gone from the hearth.
 
Shovel the sorrows tenderly,
and leave me close to the ground.
Not content to witness this party
but consoled with hearing its sound.
 
And though I may not move,
know that my smile tries,
for I have finally welcomed
my graveyard of goodbyes.
 
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2 Responses to “Interactive Session 10”

  1. Natasha April 21, 2013 at 6:29 pm #

    @Catherine: “Love is no door mat” I think your story was spot on with what the activity was about and what you were meant to do. Although I think the story was a bit melodramatic, I think you used the different emotions and expressions/gestures well. I also liked the cliff-hanger of the ending. Job well done.

    @Catherine: “Prisoner of Pain” I think the scenario was a good start. I also think this was a bit too melodramatic. Maybe you could have played with the situation differently- not sure. I do realize it is supposed to be dramatic, but you could do it in a way that isn’t cheesy or not as convincing.

    @Souradeep Roy- I’ve never seen a writing quite like this one. It reminded me of an auctioneer saying the writing very fast and in a sales picking way. I read it pretty fast, and I especially like the repetition of words, it really makes the reader understand the writing better and why you chose to do it in that way. good work for a monologue.

    @Michelle – I really enjoyed this poem, mostly because I’m an avid beach lover myself. I liked the message behind your words. The first four stanzas had the strongest writing of the whole poem, and then it kind of veered off in a different direction (not a bad thing).

    @Kieran- The poem really flowed well and all of the stanzas were excellently written. I really enjoyed the closing to it. I pictured a china doll-esque girl wandering through life almost while I was reading it. It was “hauntingly beautiful” as cliche as that sounds.

  2. Shanice May 1, 2013 at 7:42 pm #

    @Kieran : I felt the demeanour of the poem and it was beautifully written. The emotion of a little regret, sadness, but hope.

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