The Poet's Quill- A Poem

  

The Poet's Quill

 

The Poet's pen is stood there; still,

in a glass it stands, the Poet's quill,

yet un-used and left alone to stand,

needing someone to give it a hand,

explore, inspire, create and write,

indeed poetry is like flying a kite,

just wait, please, go with the breeze,

pick up the quill and write with ease,

then one day you'll get the knack,

then I tell you there's no going back.

Sleeping on the Stairway- A Poem

 

Sleeping on the Stairway

Note- I began with this picture for inspiration and wrote a poem from there.

Young boy, who's sleeping there,
Young boy, this isn't fair,
Why should you sleep on the stair,
Is it your family that don't care?

Then if so, why oh why,
Would they let you sleep up so high,
It's dirty and dangerous where you lie,
Young boy, stop, please don't cry!

Please don't worry, it will be okay,
Believe me, tomorrow is a brighter day,
So I leave, go home and then I pray,
About the young boy sleeping on the stairway.

Memory- A Short Story

Memory

 

Walking through the house for the last time flooded Rosemary’s mind with lost memories she’d rather have forgotten. Nine years of her life she’d tried to erase but the house always reminded her of the pain she’d been through. The staircase moaned and croaked as she made what seemed like the one hundredth journey up toward her bedroom glancing at the smashed picture frames on her way. When Geoff and she had moved in they’d beamed with pride over the lavish cream carpets they’d sprawled over several of the upstairs rooms, now they were stained with red wine and painful memories. Rosemary stumbled into her bedroom clumsily and quickly gathered together a few of the skirts and blouses she’d left crumpled up on the floor and stuffed them into a brown suitcase, the same brown suitcase the couple had taken on their first holiday to Cornwall, the same brown suitcase she had threatened to pack up and leave with so many times before. She turned to leave the room and stopped at the sight of a fly buzzing around a lamp so went to open the window before realising it was already ‘open’. Shattered glass littered the floor around the window where a television had been thrown out and landed on a bed of dead flowers below. The sounds of silence were suddenly broken by a phone ringing downstairs, Rosemary gingerly headed downstairs past the ruined carpet once again toward the kitchen were the phone was reluctantly placed on the kitchen floor. ‘Hello’ answered Rosemary with a timid voice awaiting the reply on the other end of the line. ‘Rosemary, this is Geoff…don’t worry I forgive you’ replied the voice. The silence returned. ‘It was your mother wasn’t it, poisoning your mind with her words against me’ bellowed the voice that was becoming angrier. Rosemary dropped the suitcase to the floor, it landed with a thud, so did Rosemary herself minutes later as her she fell to the floor and leant against the Kitchen cabinets. ‘Before I died, I left some things for you, they’re in a box beside the sofa’ continued the voice as Rosemary’s eyes turned to the phone cord, it wasn’t plugged in, in fact it was destroyed. Rosemary inhaled and hung the phone up before heading toward the sofa. The box was there as the voice had said but Rosemary was more reluctant than ever to open it. She opened the box. Inside was nothing but a toy car, metal, yellow, but splattered with a haunting crimson. Rosemary knew exactly what it was, she knew because she’d put it there and it was the one thing she didn’t want to ever see again. Two months ago Rosemary had hit her husband Geoff over the head with this toy car, a fatal blow that would send him to his death. The car belonged to Rosemary as a child, her family couldn’t afford many toys but this was one she cherished. The final blow came after Rosemary had finally had enough of Geoff; she’d known he’d been cheating on her for three years now. Rosemary grabbed the car and stuffed the item into the suitcase before departing the house full of memories. The police would have all the evidence they needed by now and Rosemary had a plane to catch, she shut the suitcase into the back of the taxi before taking her seat as she looked up at the house one final time. The silence was disrupted by the sounds of police sirens in the distance.

Home- A Quick Poem

Home

Darkness surrounds those who think,
Darkness surrounds those who drink,
Darkness surrounds those who lie,
Darkness abandons those who don't try.

But somewhere I find no more dark.

Somewhere I do not feel alone,
This place is a place that I call home.

Notes- As I've said before poems aren't really for me, this is something I put together really quickly and am somehow quite proud of it.

Endless Epidemic- Story Starter

Crows circled the countless corpses that littered the London Streets below. Debris, rubbish and a foul smell polluted the atmosphere that was almost impossible to withstand. Silence, nothing but silence- weeks before the catastrophic events the streets were brilliantly busy with people going about their everyday lives, unaware of how things would change.

Nobody expected how quickly the virus would spread. Now only a few survivors have been left to pick their way through what was left of society, and it wasn’t just Britain- it was the world.

One woman staggered through the streets, her face painting a picture for the devastation that surrounded her. She surveyed the corpses, each a uncomfortable shade of blue, the woman moved her hand to reveal a gaping wound in her side. Falling to the floor the crimson blood spilled out of the woman at an alarming rate. Another death. But that was just normality now.

 

A Storm was brewing overhead, dark clouds overcame what was left of a blue sky and made thunderous noises from above. The rotting flesh below was met with rainfall a few seconds later. As the rain pelted down on the remains of London a car alarm could be heard in the near distance. Peter Greyson had smashed a car window to retrieve the tins of canned food that were inside, stuffing them into a large grey rucksack. Peter strode back toward an old building, its windows boarded up and its brickwork decaying with the weather. Like most places, it was surrounded with a somewhat moat of corpses though was a safe haven for three survivors, an unimaginable light in this new dark world, for now at least. Peter’s expression resembled that of a hurt man, he was small and young; his greasy brown hair was tied back neatly into a ponytail though his appearance other than that was- messy. A large brown raincoat that was tattered and torn was slung over his skeleton like frame over a collection of other fabrics that showed their age. After spritely jogging up a set of stairs he made his way into a large room where a blonde woman stood hunched over, as if she had the worries of what was left of the world on her shoulders.

‘All I could find’ announced Peter as he slung his bag with the few cans of food in onto the cold and dirty floor. Andrea sighed and grabbed the nearest can to her; she quickly opened it.

‘We don’t know when we’ll find more of those, we should save them’ Peter continued as Andrea finished off the can and threw it to the floor, she collapsed to the floor herself against a wall. Peter slowly walked toward her and sat beside her. Andrea hid her head from him cautiously; desperate to not reveal the single tear that had escaped from her beautifully brown eyes. Peter gradually placed his hand on Andrea’s shoulder, ‘It’ll be okay, I promise- Mark will be back soon- we’ll find somewhere better’ he said slowly before carefully rising to his feet and looking out of the window at the devastation outside.

 

Mark would never get used to seeing the corpses, it always felt wrong. These people had been alive; they were people he could have met in his day to day life- now they were empty and rotting. He’d always wondered why he hadn’t been affected by the virus, so few people had survived, in the whole of London he’d only met two others and nobody else. Mark slung another decaying body to the side and made his way through the corridors that hopefully lead to a food storage container. Inside the container Mark found even for decomposing bodies among the aisles of perishing food, this was certainly a find though- up to now they’d only been finding a few cans of food here and there- he’d hit the jackpot! His sudden burst of excitement was cut short by the discovery of more putrefying corpses among the cans that were being feasted upon by a few rats, Mark moved away quickly. Now armed with a broom he had found and a scarf around his mouth he prepared himself to knock the corpse off the shelf. It fell to the ground eventually with a large thud and the rats scattered away with haste. Mark eventually brought himself to fill his bag up with the cans, though many were still covered in the red stuff and he hadn’t the stomach to bother cleaning them- instead he threw them to the side.

 

The rain seemed endless. Clouds above had formed and weren’t leaving anytime soon, to the few Survivors it seemed a faraway dream that they’d see sunny and happy day again. Along the side of the road among the corpses was a crashed car that had smashed into a shops window, it wasn’t just the virus that was killing people. In the last few days people turned to murder as well, avenging past conflicts and taking advantage of a decaying society. Amongst the carnage the army had attempted to protect the citizens from infection, but they soon succumbed to the sickly symptoms themselves.

 

‘This will last us awhile’ announced Mark as he stood proudly above his morning’s work, around a dozen cans of food; Andrea’s expression remained unimpressed. Peter smiled and gave Mark a condescending pat on the back before moving to a seat.

‘Did you get any closer to the Estate today?’ Questioned Andrea who rose from her seat on the floor, her hand tightened around a picture of an elderly woman in a heart shaped pendant that she held away from her friends.

‘No, the devastation around that part is too built up, I tried Andrea’ said Mark as he turned away from his friend.

‘We have to find her, she was the only person I had, we know your mother died. Just let me find closure myself!’ Andrea sighed and stumbled over, clutching her head, she tumbled to the ground so suddenly. 

‘Are you okay?’ spoke Mark as he knelt down to feel Andrea’s forehead, she was burning up. Mark steadily rose to his feet and quickly backed away from Andrea who was now coughing violently. ‘Andrea, I think you have the virus’ continued Mark.

‘I can’t have, I mean I’ve been in contact with those who had it, it didn’t affect me then- why now?’ Andrea pushed him away from her. Peter took a more cautious approach and sat nearer to his friend.

‘Peter, get away from her- what are you doing?’ Bellowed Mark who pulled Peter’s arm to draw him away from the ailing Andrea who attempted to rise to her feet though fell to the floor suddenly. Peter grabbed Andrea’s hand and then looked toward Mark.

‘We can’t just leave her here.’  Peter was now holding Andrea’s hand tight.

‘We can, do you want to get the virus Peter?’ Shouted an angry Mark.

‘No, she’s our friend Mark! Go without me, I’m staying here’ protested Peter, he strode toward the table and stuffed Mark’s bag with a few cans of food before signalling him to leave.

 

The rain had stopped, the death had as well. Andrea gazed out of the building’s window with a new found hope; she had overcome an illness suspected to be the virus yet again. Peter called for her from outside the window, he had loaded up a car and the pair were preparing to head out into the city to Andrea’s childhood home. Thoughts of her family had flooded Andrea’s head since the outbreak begun, though she was not especially close with her mother she still cared for her. Mark had left a month ago when Andrea had fallen ill- Peter hoped that he was okay, he seemed the sort that could cope by himself. Peter’s thoughts were halted by Andrea’s arrival in the car and they set off in search of their past, Andrea smiled at the idea of being reunited with her mother.

 

Sunshine beamed down on the remains of London revealing the full extent of the epidemic that had occurred not long ago. Shattered glass littered the streets like the lives that had been ruined in such a short time. Silence. It seemed peaceful in a way.

 

Barbed wire fences had been erected outside the vicinity of the Survivors camp. Security lined the gates all hours of the day, complete safety. It was amazing for those entering, what seemed like a world cut off from the devastation outside, a new beginning. An Old woman sat alone in her apartment block, looking out at what was London. In her hand she clutched a heart shaped pendant, holding the image inside of Andrea. Her eyes glistened in the sunlight as she held tightly onto a bottle of water and a can of food, attempting to ignore the loud gunshots that could be heard from outside. She tried her best to ignore the loud noises that had overtaken the silence. This was what the world was like now.

The Blank Room- Television Script

The Blank Room

Scene 1- Montage

                                     

Fade In, The screen begins with a summer’s blue sky filled with clouds and the sounds of birds tweeting. The camera pans down to a stately home and zooms in on a window where a woman is standing inside looking out. The woman is HYACINTH; she is an elderly woman who is dressed smartly apart from the grimace her face holds.

 

BLACK SCREEN, briefly

 

Now inside, HYACINTH moves into the dining room where she picks up a duster and dusts the seemingly perfectly clean dining table. The dusting continues along a mantle-piece where she accidentally knocks over a picture of an old man in a suit. She picks it up and smiles at the picture before moving away.

 

BLACK SCREEN, briefly

 

Cut to HYACINTH now in the Lounge where she is doing a newspaper crossword, her eyes move upwards to a clock every now and then taking note of the time, she sips at her tea. Hearing a rustling sound from outside the window HYACINTH stands up to investigate though in the process knocks her cup of tea over- close up of the teacup shattering onto the floor.

 

BLACK SCREEN, briefly

 

HYACINTH is now on the floor sweeping up the glass with a dustpan and brush; she sweeps it into a bag and ties it up before putting on her coat and heading towards the front door. There’s a brief moment of silence before HYACINTH opens the front door and stands there- staring out at the world before her. As she stares out of the door there is a close up of Hyacinth’s face- trying to find the strength to move outside. Before she can- the phone rings. The door shuts. Hyacinth turns back into her home.

 

2- INT The Kitchen. Early evening.

 

HYACINTH is seated on a chair on the phone to her daughter; NATALIA

 

HYACINTH

Hmm, yes.

 

NATALIA

And you’re sure that you’re okay for                                                  the weekend?

 

HYACINTH

Hmm, yes.

 

NATALIA

How are the funerals plans coming                                       together?

 

HYACINTH

Yes.

 

NATALIA

Mum? I asked how the funeral plans                                                 are coming together.

 

HYACINTH

They’re going okay. I’ve left most of it                                               to your brother.

 

NATALIA

So, have you done anything today?

 

HYACINTH

I’ve been working non-stop today, you                                               wouldn’t believe the -

 

NATALIA

Oh sorry Mum. Freddie’s just got back                                  from band practice, I’ve got to go.

 

HYACINTH

Okay.

 

HYACINTH slowly puts down the phone and sits for a second looking out of the window before moving upstairs.

 

 

3- HYACINTH’S bedroom, late at night

 

HYACINTH is lying in bed, eyes wide open. Cut to an old antique clock which reads ’02.45’. She turns over to her side but in the process hears a clatter of plates downstairs- she sits straight up and looks to the door of her bedroom.

 

HYACINTH moves off the bed and puts on her slippers, she tiptoes down the staircase as the noises continue from downstairs. Eventually HYACINTH makes it down where she sees a young teenage, MICKEY, who is rooting through the drawers in her living room. Without thinking, HYACINTH moves behind MICKEY and sits on the sofa.

 

HYACINTH

I would check the dining room; you’ll                                     find items of more value in there.

 

MICKEY turns around, startled, it looks as if he is going to make a run for it though there’s a few brief moments of silence as HYACINTH and he stare into each other’s eyes.

MICKEY

Aren’t you going to call the police?

 

HYACINTH

Would you like a cup of tea?

 

MICKEY

Why aren’t you calling the police?

 

HYACINTH

I’ve got coffee too if you’d prefer that?

 

(Silence)

 

HYACINTH

You sir, are in my house.

 

MICKEY puts down the items in his hands and moves towards the door though turns back into the room.

HYACINTH

I’m not angry, if you wondered. I just                                    want to know why.

 

MICKEY

Why?

 

HYACINTH

Why you want to steal from me.

 

MICKEY

                                                I don’t, I’m just…

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                You did, though, didn’t you? Until you                                                                                    saw me.

                                                                        (Pause)

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                I’m not scared you know. I’m fine by                                                                                                 myself, I can cope perfectly well.

 

                                                                        MICKEY          

                                                I never said you couldn’t.

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                I’m Hyacinth in case you were                                                                                               wondering

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                Mickey, the name’s Mickey.

 

MICKEY moves to sit down on a chair, HYACINTH turns away as he sits down.

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                Shouldn’t even be here anyway, wasn’t                                                                                 even my idea, was my fucking…

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                It’s okay Mickey, I’m not angry.

 

                                                                        (Pause)

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                That was his chair.

 

HYACINTH indicates the chair that MICKEY is sitting on.

 

                                                            (Pause)

                                                                                 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                My husband’s. Of course he’s                                                                                                 gone now.      

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                Where’s he gone?

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                He’s dead.

 

                                                                        (A longer Silence)

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                I’m sorry.

                                                           

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                You see, that’s why I don’t care-                                                                                            he’s gone. This house isn’t a home                                                                             anymore. This room is empty. Just                                                                              take what you want and leave me                                                                                         alone.

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                You got a very nice house; you                                                                                               must have a‘lotta money.

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                I do. Have you ever heard the                                                                                                phrase ‘Money dosen’t make you                                                                              happy’?

 

                                                                        MICKEY                                                                                                           Sounds like a stupid phrase!                                                                                      

 

                                                                        HYACINTH                                                                                                       It’s true though.

 

                                                                        (Silence)

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                It’s hard isn’t it, losing someone.

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                It is.                                                                                                                                        

                                                                        MICKEY                                                                                                           My sister died, three months                                                                                     ago today.                                                                                                                              

 

                                                                        HYACINTH                                                                                                       I’m sorry.

                                               

                                                                        MICKEY                                                                                                           Don’t be, she was really ill,                                                                                        it was a good thing she went.                                                                          

(Silence until a plate rolls out of MICKEY’S bag and onto the floor, both HYACINTH and MICKEY turn to look, Silence.)

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                That was a wedding gift.

 

                                                                        (Pause)

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                I’m so sorry, this should never                                                                                                have happened, I’ll empty…

 

(MICKEY empties the bag, china plates and jewellery spill out, so does a large carving knife which clatters onto the floor)

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                I wasn’t going to use it I swear,                                                                                              it was just in-case y’know, if                                                                                       you was hostile or something.                                                                             

                                                                                 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                Imagine I had been… hostile?                                                                                                 You’d have stabbed me then?

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                No.

 

                                                                        (Pause)

           

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                You’d have threatened me                                                                                                     then? Until I handed over my                                                                                     possessions?

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                No.

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                Have you ever killed anyone                                                                                                  before Mickey?

 

                                                                        (Silence)                     

                       

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                No.

 

                                                                       

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                I have.

 

                                                                        (Pause)

                                   

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                It was an accident, a fire thirty                                                                                              years ago. I was smoking but                                                                                                 dropped the cigar. There was                                                                               an open gas canister and before                                                                                            I knew it I’d set the whole building                                                                                         alight. One girl died. Of course                                                                                  that was a long time ago now.

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                I wasn’t going to hurt you.

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                I know you weren’t going to.                                                                                                  You don’t look like that type.

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                Oh yeah?

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                Yes.

 

                                                           

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                We both lost people y’know.

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                We have.

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                I’m sorry miss, I’ve made a bit of                                                                                           a mistake. Are you alright?

                                                           

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                I’m fine- I don’t need anybody.                                                                                               I don’t need anything. This room,                                                                               this house, these things- they are                                                                                   nothing.

 

MICKEY stands up and moves across to the clock on the mantelpiece, his foot knocks into a safe on the floor. HYACINTH watches this, he turns back around and sit back down slowly.

 

                                                                        (Silence)

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                1959.

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                Huh?

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                That was the year the girl died.                                                                                             Her name was Annabelle Smith,                                                                                she worked in the factory down                                                                           the road and… she was pregnant.

 

                                                                        (Pause)

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                (Indicating Picture on mantelpiece)

                                                Is that your daughter?

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                One of them, yes.

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                You need to speak to her.

 

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                I can’t.

 

                                                                        MICKEY

                                                Why.

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                Because she’s the girl who died.

 

                                                                        (Silence)

 

                                                                        HYACINTH

                                                I’m just so… tired.

 

HYACINTH’s eyes slowly close, she has fallen asleep. MICKEY watches her for a second and then stands up. He looks at his bag and then to the safe. He slowly perches down on the floor and looks at the keypad. MICKEY enters the code ‘1959’ into the safe, it slowly opens- he looks inside for a few seconds at the money inside, there’s also jewellery and a picture. The picture an old photo of a woman standing outside a factory smiling, MICKEY turns the picture over- it reads- ‘Annabelle Smith, 1959’

Fade Out, BLACK SCREEN, briefly

 

4- Fade In, The Living Room- Morning

Sunshine seeps through the window down onto a sleeping HYACINTH who awakes, she opens her eyes and stands, she then looks at the picture of her daughter on the mantelpiece and moves towards it. Holding the picture in her hands she then looks down to the safe, opened and looted. HYACINTH turns around, the whole room has been upturned and ransacked, she makes her way out of the living room and through the rest of the house, and most things have gone. Out of the corner of her eye HYACINTH see’s the rubbish bag she failed to take out the day previously, she puts on her coat and walks to the door, picking up the rubbish bag. HYACINTH opens the door and stands for a second looking out, she goes to step out though stops herself, turns round back into the house, and she closes her front door.

Fade Out.

Words- 1464