Writing exercises

Writing exercise – Expression

Shiny shoes, a river of alcohol and a dance that goes on forever
Laughing, always laughing, nothing but laughter and tears
A watch ticking backwards, a man is a rabbit
Lungs filled with tar, lights everywhere
Half dead, unfed but still the dance goes on
Do nothing. Remember anything
Do you feel eyes upon you?
Dance with me shiny shoes.



List of thoughts

Got to get up, got to get out
Book flights
What would it be like to kill him? I’d never get away with it
Live- beauty of grey, must sticky tape that back together
This is just like a hangover only without the alcohol: I should have gotten drunk.
This isn’t pass worthy but at least it’s not plagiarised
Must work on Malus, it needs more blood and description
Thank god it’s raining
Walking with a song in the heart
I don’t need a smoke right now… bugger it I want one.
How can I possibly know what they are thinking, it’s not natural.
Tax, must do tax
Forgetting everything, forgetting wisdom
If the world spun the other way would it really change anything?

Travel Writing - Submitted for marking

Macquarie Fields, home of the 2005 summer riots, considered the worst suburb in Australia, but only by the people that have never been there, has a great history dating back to when Wally Melish blockaded his house and fought off the police. When you first drive into town you see the entire valley stretched out before you. Ignore the smell of sullage. You drive down into Glenquarie Shopping Centre. James Mehean High School is on the right, named after one of the local founders. Don’t be surprised if you mistake it for a prison. Take a left on to Rosewood and view the historic site where Jason Kelly crashed his car in a police chase beginning the 2005 riots. There is still a shrine marking the spot where he killed his two friends and ran away. Take Eucalyptus Drive from there. Not too far along is the hovel that Ray Martin stayed in to show everyone how compassionate he was toward the local population. A few doors down and you come to the house where the two freaks kept their daughter imprisoned for half her life; she is free now, but still can’t talk properly. Simmo’s Beach is the local swimming hole: don’t let the name fool you, it’s a river. Occasionally a body will float down stream, just swim around it. Simmo’s is part of the George’s River, a little way down river is the spot that an old lady drowned her five kids; rumour has it her ghost can still be heard there, cackling away. Go up stream to the quarry if you are the partying type. Almost every weekend there’s a drug party on there. Go early if you want the good stuff, the cops will not show up until about 11 pm. If you can’t make the party, look for sneakers hanging over power wires, there are some every few blocks marking each drug dealer’s territory. Up near Macquarie Fields Primary we have the local pools. They’re still proud of having a zero death toll. The power station next door is not so fortunate. Kids are often climbing the fence and getting shocked to death. It is an interesting town full of history. Although the places are not charted well, it’s not too hard to find them. Do drop in to this quaint little town, but don’t go in the summer time, the bush fires get quite close.

Soliloquies - Submitted and marked

Soliloquy 1 – They say they know me


They say they know me
But they know nothing
They run about free
But they do not know
This captivity
I can hear them now
Listening at doors
They are everywhere
Hear them in the walls
I really must scream
Rip out all my hair
But will they even see
They don’t really care
Who are they? Who? Who?
Can they see my pain?
Do they keep my tears?
This ruse I must maintain
Act normal stay sane
Listen. Listen hard
Ignore the rumours
Lies, lies, just discard
Discard all of them
Run away yet stay
To defy them all
Defy and obey


Soliloquy 2 – To take hold take arms


To take hold, take arms
Surely it is time
Better to kill them
Than suffer the wrath
Destroying my qualm
Must go on being
Struggling to breath
Fighting, fighting now
Why do they haunt me?
I must find meaning
Find sense of it all
Perhaps they can leave
They’ll die if they don’t
A blade cross their necks
I’ll watch them all fall
Then blood everywhere
I can almost taste
The pure subtle tide
They cry out in pain
But still unaware
Ignorant to me
Pleas fall on deaf ears
Soon they will know why
My anguish inside
Might soon now set them free


Soliloquy 3 – Rest easy head


Rest easy head
Breath softly sleep
Now lay me down
Beneath the sheet
Cast off my sorrow
Take hold my hand
Deliver me
Unto Neverland
Heavily hung
Those lidded stones
Wet glass raining
Oh so alone
Heart beat slowly
Too slow to tell
Leave me lie
Where I have fell
When shall we speak?
Perhaps upon
The morrow’s break
So weak now
This life I take
No touch of breath
No light of day
The end is death
So fade away

MURDER MYSTERY COMING SOON

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An Alley of Morality

Scene: A dank alleyway with minimal lighting. Alley must appear dark and seedy.

It is early night time.

In the alley sits a piano side on to the wall, a man stands nearby aiming a torch at the pianist, on the side opposite the piano chair on the floor sits a homeless beggar.
The piano is of the best quality.

The Pianist is wearing a tuxedo but is barefoot.
The beggar is wearing everything he owns.

The Pianist walks up to the piano, sits down and begins to play. He plays instrumentals until quite a crowd has gathered.

Pianist: Thank you thank you very much, now for my last piece.


Enter rich pompous man. Rich man strolls up to piano near beggar.

Rich man is pretentiously; his manner shows his distain for the lower classes.

Enter violinist from the back of the crowd already playing violin. Violinist takes up position behind the pianist and continues to play.

Beggar: Hey buddy can ya spare some change?

Rich man: Get away from me.

Beggar moves closer to the Rich man.

Beggar: oh come on mate, you can spare it.

Rich man: Get away from me you pathetic excuse for a human.

Beggar: just a dollar, you can spare that.

Beggar grabs rich man by the leg in a begging position.
Rich man takes a little while to shake beggar off
Rich man kicks beggar to the floor.
Rich man repeatedly kick beggar until beggar stops moving.
Pianist looks toward the Rich man with concern and annoyance.
Torchbearer shifts torch light to the scuffle.
Pianist notices the crowds focus shift and plays the piano with more vigour.
Rich mans beating of the beggar runs in time to the music, getting more violent as the music gets louder.
Rich man spits on beggar and throws a dollar on his motionless body



Enter two police officers in uniform, a male and female.

Male officer: All right what’s going on here? Break up this crowd.

Female officer: Look (she approaches the beggar)

The beggar remains still.

Male officer: you are all witnesses, no body move. I’m calling this in.

Pianist finishes his piece

Rich man applauds and holds his hat out to the onlookers

Rich man: come on show your appreciation for the piano performance.

Pianist appears hesitant, looking to the other side of the piano.

Pianist: Er thank you

Beggar stands up, seemingly unharmed

Beggar: Yeah we hoped you enjoyed it

Beggar, Rich man, Police and Pianist all laugh and take a bow.

Male officer: All you onlookers, you played the part of observers tonight, in the future we hope you will do more, Charlie certainly does.

Beggar: Yes, yes it would be nice to not take another pounding.

All performers bow again.

The blue book on the shelf

Whenever I am depressed or blue I reach for my bookshelves. It's always the same book I pull down although it does seem to move around a lot on its own. It's not the bible or any great book on life, it's a simple blue book filled with story-type observations about life. I open it at any page and for some reason it always opens to the right page I need in any circumstance. How it does this I do not know, but I'm not complaining. When I have read the two or three page account my head becomes clearer and life seems to take shape once more. It's one of the few books I own that I remember the circumstance of the purchase of the book, and none save one that I remember the day so perfect. It was in December, years ago although I can't remember the year, it could even have been the first of December. It was raining; I think we even saw a bit of hail that day. I remember siting at the back door and writing about the storm. That was the day I bought the blue book. Why I went out in such weather to get a book that could easily have waited until the next day I can't quite remember, but I'm sure I had my reasons. Why I remember that day so well down to the weather and what I wrote, I have no idea. I don't think it was my intention to commit these things to memory, what purpose could it ever have? But tucked away in the back of my mind I have the history of this book in my head and although there is no longer a price tag on it I think it cost me around $19.95. This simple over looked blue book; you could probably pick it up for $2 now. I doubt even the author knows its true value. In the words of Bennet and Royal, 'the author is dead,'1 so let the novel speak for itself. This book speaks volumes to me, but were you to ask me what it was about, I’d remain silent. It is about everything and nothing, it says so much but tells no story. What makes it so great to me? It’s mine and it helps me to fly.

1. Not literally in this case, to the best of my knowledge anyway.

I appoligise to those who read this blog, I forgot how to sign into the damn thing :P but today it dawned on me.