December meeting and theme

Our next meeting will be Saturday, 9th December, 10:30am - 12:30am. See you at the entrance to the Gardens at the opera house. Hope you can all make it. Perhaps we should have a Christmas drink/lunch afterward for those who have some time.

The theme for december will be this thought "There but for the grace of God go you or I" or if you prefer "There but for fortune go you or I" - you get the idea. To stimulate the mind on this, here are the words to song by Phil Ochs, which illustrates one take on this. You can write a story, a play, your journal or just retell an incident.. Remember the aim is to practice writing. The theme is just a suggestion and you can write about whatever you want - just write! And bring it along. Post it to this site.

There but for Fortune
Show me a prison, show me a jail
Show me a pris'ner whose face has grown pale
And I'll show you a young man
With many reasons why
There but for fortune, go you or I

Show me an alley, show me a train
Show me a hobo who sleeps out in the rain
And I'll show you a young man
With many reasons why
There but for fortune, go you or I

Show me the whiskey stains on the floor
Show me a drunk as he stumbles out the door
And I'll show you a young man
With many reasons why
There but for fortune, go you or I

Show me a country where the bombs had to fall
Show me the ruins of buildings so tall
And I'll show you a young land
With many reasons why
There but for fortune, go you or I
You or I
--Phil Ochs

(I first heard this on an old Joan Baez album I have, and its been a favourite of mine for a long time. )

Pam needs a secret ...

Hi All
Great to see everyone on Saturday - I didn't get much further with my elephant poem after you'd left the Gardens - too many squeaking kids around. This is the other bit of writing I need help with - come on, get yer thinking caps on! This carries on from my piece about the lady doing the ironing, missing her departed husband, gazing into the garden.

Exercise * find out, or try to tell a secret
Watch pace/tone/rhythm.

A knock at the door. Monica comes in carrying a package, sits down, kettle goes on.
Monica: Thought you'd like some company.
Mrs Griffiths: Not really. I'm OK.
M: Well, anyway. Was just passing an*.
Mrs G: I'm FINE. I'm used to being on my own.
M: Oh, errr, yes. Yes of course you are but*.
Mrs G: Why do you think I need company?
M: Well, errr, actually I errrr. Oh hell! Take this! (pushes the packet she's brought across the table)
Mrs G: What is it?
M: Something I should have given you some time ago.
Mrs G: What?
M: For Christ's sake woman. Take the bloody thing. Open it. I think you know what's in it. I think you've known a long time it would eventually come back to you. Take it! Open it!
Mrs G: I don't want to. I don't want to! Don't do this to me. Take it away. Take it away from here*..
M: Ha. You coward. You miserable coward. Go on * open it! Let me see your face! I've waited a long time for this. A - very - long - time. Evan has given me that chance. Good old Evan. Perfect little Evan. Nine-to-five-and-an-hour-for-lunch-Evan. Now perfect little Evan has done the perfect thing * he's DIED*.
Mrs G: Shut up! Oh shut up you bitch!
M: Not likely sweetheart. What was it God said? Oh yes, 'vengeance is mine'. Open the package Eleanor. Let the moths out, let the sickening rancid smell out Eleanor, open the Pandora's box*. Go on, do it!
Mrs G: How can you be like this? After all this time, all these years*.
M: Yes, all these years Eleanor. Festering, seething, boiling, awaiting the moment. I'm going to enjoy this SO much. Come on, don't play the stricken wife, snivelling and crying for her beloved husband. Open the bloody packet! (pause) Or * I * will*
Mrs G: NO! (grabs the package, just as a crash of thunder and a flash of lightening illuminates the room)
M: See, Evan's watching! HE wants to see you open the parcel too! (laughs) won't HE be surprised*.!

November meeting & photo

Here is the pic for our November get together. Another warm sunny day overlooking the harbour. Here we have (L > R) Pam, Vergil, Katrina & Philippa. Larissa took the photo this time. Don't miss the next one!

Don't forget, the themes are only suggestions to get you going. You can bring whatever writing you want, to discuss or just read.

Elephant Boy poems - from Vergil

This poem inspired by the Boy and the Elephant photo from the "Ashes and Snow" web site

My Children! Listen!
Listen to me now in silent stillness
Kneel together in peace and clear your minds
Remember when we were one
Remember when every child of mine
Understood me, respected me,
Loved me.

When the greatest and strongest
When the smallest and weakest
Knew the balance of my life

The balance of birth and death
Of winter and of summer
Of autumn and of spring
Of fire and of frost
Of ashes and snow
When we lived together
And knew how to love each other

My children! Listen!
Can you hear the cry of pain?
Can you feel the heat?
Can you see the melting ice
Can you smell the sharpness in the wind?
Can you tell I am dying?

My children! Listen!
Do you know who I am?
Can you come back to me
Kneel before each other
In humility

And understand you are all
My children
Help me live
I am your mother.

And this one is a quick little piece inspired by the same photo and written on the train trip into the city one morning

The Elephant

The elephant is a marvellous beast,
Compared to her we are the least.
We're told that she will not forget,
And that she lives without regret.
She seems so noble, and so true,
A tower of strength for me and you.
Let's honour what she represents,
Perhaps she is from heaven sent!