Secret Place
I found my life in the place all lovers know,
where we pause, coming back to ourselves, after being another;
here I found it.
Wave after wave of limestone river,
in a grey sky, grey air,
homely reeds,
leading down to the beach,
where dark sand meets a darker sea,
and divulges its secrets.
Here is the truth; I waited for you there,
but after, I slipped into the water, naked,
'till the cold rose up in my soul.
Let salt carry me away to a distant time,
one where we live in peace,
one where you come to me, on the beach,
and we swim,
never fearing,
the storm clouds,
awaiting on shore.
All The World
Author's Note: Hello Fellow Prosers! This is a play that I'm going to submit to a creative writing program. I will list the program's criteria below. Please tell me what you think of it and give advice on how to improve. Thanks!
Criteria:
Writing Structure
The ability of a student to track character through setting(s) and the rise and fall of action. The skill to establish a point of view; and conflict or problem resolution based on theme or message. Sophisticated structure helps the reader to wonder what is next. A qualifying manuscript makes the conclusion uncertain until the end then reaches a level of resolution for the reader.
Language
The expertise in writing with descriptive language in service to the story where rhythm is consistent. A qualified manuscript is filled with a range of literary devices: e.g. figures of speech, elaboration, personification, dialogue for conversation, metaphors, parallelisms, etc.
Character Development
A qualified manuscript possesses developed characters through descriptive detail: appearance, relationships, ambitions, weaknesses/strengths. A character’s communication is developed through dialogue. The writer creates empathy for a character by revealing factors of relatability or humanization.
All The World
A Ten Minute Play
Anna: A young actress working in a regional theater.
Peter: A techie working with Anna.
This play fits best in a theater with raised seats and a tech booth at the back of the house. Much of the action does not take place on stage, but around the theater itself.
Our characters are rehearsing independently on a Monday. They have never been alone together before. At the top, the stage is empty and the theater is lighted un-theatrically. It looks as it does on an actual Monday rehearsal, bare and empty, except for the audience. Peter waits in the booth as Anna comes on stage.
Anna: Walks to front of stage. Hello, hello? A beat. Can you hear me?
Peter: Wait, wait, yeah I got you now.
Anna: You sure?
Peter: Course I’m sure.
Anna: Come out of the booth.
Peter: I’m sure.
Anna: Well I’m not.
Peter: The audience can hear you.
Anna: Yeah, but how well?
Peter: They can hear you.
Anna: I don’t think you understand. The tonality is extremely important for this piece. There’s a lot of subtext going on. The audience has to get what I’m saying and then what I’m really saying.
Peter: Sarcastically. Because there’s that big of a difference.
Anna: What?
Peter: Nothing!
Anna: What?
Peter: Nothing.
Anna: Sure about that?
Peter: As I’ll ever be.
Anna: Come down here.
Peter: I said I said nothing!
Anna: I heard that, just come down here!
Peter: Why?
Anna: So you can get the atmosphere.
Peter. I get a good atmosphere here. Nice breeze coming through the top rows.
Anna: Laughs. He beams. I still think you should come onstage. See it from my perspective.
Peter: Is there a problem?
Anna: They’re being so quiet. A beat.
Peter: There’s no one there.
Anna: There is from here.
Peter: But certainly not from here.
Anna: There’s always an audience.
Peter: We’re in rehearsal.
Anna: That changes nothing. The chairs are looking at me.
Peter: And they’re squeaking at me. Ancient as hell.
Anna: Hell is timeless.
Peter: So is theater.
Anna: Dianazi a me nonme non fuor cose create se non etterne, e io etterna duro. Does that mean something?
Peter: No things were before me not eternal; eternal I remain. Abandon hope all ye who enter here.
Anna: No, that you said theatre.
Peter: I don’t know, but it’s true. Besides, Dante was wrong. Hell is other people.
Anna: That certainly applies to you.
Peter: You wound me.
Anna: I didn’t mean that. I meant it would be true for you.
Peter: Would it now?
Anna: Yes. I never see you at cast parties.
Peter: I don’t fit in with theater people.
Anna: You’re one of us.
Peter: Not really.
Anna: A beat. Won’t you come down?
Peter: I have a better view up here.
Anna: Do you really?
Peter: Yes, I see what the audience sees.
Anna: And that is?
Peter: You. A beat. That sounded creepy didn’t it?
Anna: Actually, no.
Peter: Groans This is why I don’t do stuff like this. I always end up opening up more than I meant to.
Anna: We’re just running sound.
Peter: Alone.
Anna: This is a monologue.
Peter: But there’s always more people. Behind the scenes. People to depend on.
Anna: Don’t worry, I trust you. You’re the best. Cream of the crop. You’re the top.
Peter: The colosseum?
Anna: I knew you were paying attention.
Peter: How could I not? You were the lead. You’re always great in those sorts of roles.
Anna: What sort?
Peter: Spunky.
Anna: Spunky.
Peter: Yeah, spunky. Like you have something to prove, but not in a bad way. Just like, good naturedly.
Anna: God, I love the way you talk.
Peter: I try.
Anna: I want to hear you up close.
Peter: I have to fix this first.
Anna: What?
Peter: The lights.
Anna: We’re doing sound.
Peter: They’re still broken.
Anna: I’ll come up to you.
Peter: You don’t have to do that.
Anna: I want to.
Peter: You’ll just get in the way.
Anna: You’re wrong. When I was sixteen, my parents ordered a bunch of new furniture. My dad made me put it all together, said I should learn. I built three tv stands that summer. Three!
Peter: And that has what to do with electrics?
Anna: Tell me what to do and I’ll make it work. She climbs up.
Peter: Ok, well hold this.
Anna: Yeah.
Peter: And I’ll do this.
Anna: Alright.
Peter: Now hand me that.
Anna: Ok.
Peter: And I’ll twist this.
Anna: Peter?
Peter: What?
Anna: This light bulb isn’t even burned out.
Peter: Yes it is.
Anna: No, see. She screws it back in. It’s practically new.
Peter: Oh. Guess I didn’t know.
Anna: Peter.
Peter: Hmmm.
Anna: I saw you replace it last week.
Peter: Really. A beat. He suddenly bursts out. Look, I’m just not ready for any of this.
Anna: That doesn’t mean you should lie.
Peter: I’m not going on stage.
Anna: Why are you avoiding me?
Peter: I’m not.
Anna: Really? You won’t even pass me in the halls. You moved your lunch spot when I started sitting next to you. Is there something wrong with me?
Peter: Of course not. Look, I already told you I’m not ready for this.
Anna: What is this?
Peter: This. Frantically waves hand at theater around him.
Anna: You’ve worked here for three years.
Peter: Yes. Yes. And I did a good job. I’m good at that.
Anna: But you’re not good at this.
Peter: Exactly.
Anna: What is this?
Peter: This. Waves and between himself and Anna.
Anna: This. Points to herself, frowning.
Peter: No, not that. Never that. This. Points to his mouth.
Anna: Your teeth?
Peter: No, the talking!
Anna: You talk all the time. You always have a comeback.
Peter: Not like this.
Anna: What are you talking about.
Peter: I can’t fake it. That’s why I left. I realized I couldn’t fake it anymore. A beat. Acting… it’s supposed to be about the truth, right? Or at least I thought it was. And then one day I woke up and I realized I wasn’t doing that. I wasn’t just lying to myself, I was lying to everyone in the audience. A beat. I didn’t even like myself. I looked out back and realized they were nothing like me. They weren’t normal people. I thought I was telling the truth to normal people. I was really just reflecting what people wanted back to those rich enough to pay for it.
Anna: You were top of your class at DePaul. He looks confused. I stalked you online. Broadway was already trying to recruit you.
Peter: That was Sophomore year. I couldn’t leave, I couldn’t have. There was nothing for me outside of theater. I changed my major. My uncle was a mechanic, so I was good at that sort of stuff.
Anna: Is it hard? Staying?
Peter: The hardest thing I’ve ever done. But it would be much harder to leave.
A beat. He clams up. Anna takes his hand.
Anna: Come with me.
She drags him to the stage. She then goes in front of it, to the director’s chair and looks into the bag lying on it. She pulls out some papers.
Anna: Read.
Peter: What?
Anna: We need a blue-collar, salt of the earth sort of a guy for our next production. Obviously, no one in our company fits that description. Read.
Peter: And I do.
Anna: Maybe. Read.
Peter: Looks out into the audience. Makes a startled face. You were right! There are people there.
Anna: Always are. Who cares. You just lost your job and your wife is trying to convince you to spend more time with the kids. Read.
Peter: Shaking voice that settles. This is destiny. I’m not sure I can do that, Mary...
Fin.
Lust, Passion, or Love?
(...Have me, take me. Take every part of me. Have all of me. Unlock emotions and make me feel things I never felt before...)
Grabbing me by the waist, he caresses my lips with his. My lips tingle at the touch and part to welcome his. Our tongues meet and explore one another. His hands grip a handful of my hair and tugs gently. Our lips and tongue still intertwined and completely immersed in passion. We stop. Opening my eyes wearily from that indulging kiss, his hand still at my waist and the other skimming my backside. At this point my heart is beating rapidly. Lifting my thigh so it hangs off his hip, his hands begin to explore. Slipping one finger under the seam of my panties, I start to feel the dampness and warmth of myself pool down below. His fingers need no direction in finding that wet warm destination. His fingers move around my clit then one enters inside me. Mmm. In and out and around my clit, again in and out and around. He kisses my neck softly and playful nibbles alongside my collar bone.
I'm feeling desire, passion and heat, I want him to have me, I want to feel him inside me. But no, he is much more patient than I. Grabbing a chair he sets it center stage. He takes a seat. Undoing the buttons of his shirt he motions for me to sit on top. I shimmy my dress just above my thighs, slip off my panties and I take place on his lap. Face to face with my legs wrapped around him. I slide his shirt off and toss it to the bed. He finishes pulling up my dress and too tosses it over to the bed. He slides my bra straps down my shoulders as he sets small kisses on me. He starts at my jaw, down my neck, along my shoulder and then stops at my breast. With one skillful movement, he unhooks the back of my bra and my breasts become free. Taking one in his mouth he begins to suck softly. Tugging my nipple gently with his teeth, my lips part and I moan. He continues to suck on my nipples and I can feel his nails grazing up against my back softly. I feel his ecstasy taking over my body; his energy, our energy. He quickly lifts me up, slides off his jeans and boxers and sets me back down.
My breathing slows down and my heart begins to race. With his teeth he rips open a condom and slides it onto his impressive shaft. Holding me at my waist, he gently lifts me and slowly slides inside me. Biting my bottom lip I let out a soft moan. He grips me tight and lets out a moan of his own. We feel so good. At first we move slowly, like gentle waves in the ocean. Our bodies become one and we pick up this smooth rhythm. Every nerve ending in body is being touched, caressed, being pleasured and its mind blowing. He grips my neck and kisses me so deeply that I become ever more lost in this trance. Keeping with the gentle rhythm we look into each others eyes and I see how great we feel to one another. Now the tempo changes, this melody is starting to pick up tempo. I can't help at bitting my lip. Our eyes locked on one another. He slides his hands up my back to my shoulders and pushes himself deeper inside me. A loud approving moan escapes me. Without hesitation he continues to push deeper and deeper. His nails scratching my back and his lips on my neck sucking hard. He digs his teeth into my sweet spot and thrusts himself deep inside me. I'm panting and wanting more and more. His speeds up pushing deeper, my nails graze his shoulders, my head tilts back, I can feel my juices begin to overflow on top of him and I can no longer hold back. I explode around him.
My breath; quick and heavy and my pussy pulsating from my high. I'm brought back to reality and our melody is still playing. I can feel him pushing himself to the deepest part of me. In and out, in and out. I bite and suck on his neck as my nails claw down his back. One last thrust and with that, his undoing begins. Breathing heavily and holding me close, he lets out a loud ahhhh. He caresses my cheek and claims my lips with his once again. I show no protest. The things he makes me feel I can't explain. His taste is intoxicating, addicting and I love it. I want more as if I did not get enough. Could it be love or just a good fuck.
Soul Love
Centuries ago, our love existed
We were very much in love but that didn't make a difference
Our love was forbidden, out of bounds, straight into darkness
Still, I was yours and you were mine, we were timeless
Our souls meet again, to finish our dance and put to rest our song
It amazes me that we found each other again after so long
I hold no anger or sorrows in my heart, only overflowing love
It still feels as strong as it was
In this lifetime you and I have different journeys
Our paths crossed again so we could accept our apologies
I forgive and release you of your vows and promises to me
Be free into the divine light and love, be free
1941: London to her defenders
In an ancient era,
A sword was drawn,
From my bosom,
Towards the dawn,
In years gone by,
I wept with blood,
For little boys,
And graves of mud
In prewar days,
I saw the signs,
Dug the shelters,
Dodged the mines,
In troubled times,
That is, today,
I hear the cry,
"Away, Away,"
(But honey, you stay.)
1832
There is an unspoken code of honor between you,
that keeps your love chaste,
pure,
clean.
(You don't know that it's the only good thing he allows himself).
Sometimes you see him scratching
at the dirty blood in his veins.
(You pretend that you don't know why)
He'd tear himself apart.
(You'd never let him)
Sometimes, it feels like you're caught in the current of a jealous river.
And you struggle to keep each other afloat
as vines and nymphs drag you down.
(He eases you awake, and says "easy, easy,")
There is a trust.
(And he never comes too close.)