A writing group with a twist

what I see in women’s shoes

I see you and I see right through you,
I know that you are reluctantly 
a creature of the night.

I see you and I find in your eyes 
leftovers from a socialite life,
and I know that they are empty
and detached from your native land.

I see you and I see what you could have been
instead you are a fuck-up, not even a shadow
of any of the things that you were supposed to be.

I see you and I see right through you,
you love nothing more than being alone by choice,
but it’s a different story when loneliness is imposed.

You mother taught you to guess
a suitors salary by glancing at their watch
but these days you are uninterested in time.

Your father had you believe
that collecting degrees was a suitable hobby
after all, there was very little 
for a woman like you to be,
so you might as well have been knowledgable
rather than the inquisitive mind you turned out to be.

I see you and I see through you, and your skull and your bones.
they are empty, they are somehow soft,
they are hollow, they are tone-deaf
they have a lot of pride to swallow.

I see you, and I can see that you are tired
from the political struggle
that comes with being branded.
You were spoon fed 
the ethical riddle of a socialist battle
because they had you believe that labels didn’t matter.

I see all of the things that you dared to be
a lover, a giver, a mistress
another mindless workaholic.

I see you for the child that still resides within you
scared but fearless, trusting
relentless, resilient, curious, devoted
cruel at times, outspoken, funny
and against most people’s desires
too honest.

I see you and I see through you
the fully fledged silhouette 
of a reassuring smile

I see you and I see beyond your band-aids
the fresh, newly-formed flesh
that grew back against all odds,
when I am quiet in the midst of the night
I can almost hear it grow.

I see you and I see through you
behind your serene eyes
the bitter taste of the better tomorrow
that never was…

And yet I see you,
putting away all your sorrows,
categorising them so they can neatly be squeezed
in the narrow space that is left
next to your collection of uncomfortable shoes…

You hardly ever wear them anymore,
you no longer need to,
because I now see you
for all of the times that you were unseen

Oriana Ascanio


DESTINY

Do you believe in Destiny? or are you frantically writing your own story?…

Come and find out on Monday January 27th at 18h00 at The Bike Shed Theatre at our usual spot (or thereabouts)

See you there!

Oriana x


COLOUR ME BEAUTIFUL

What would the world be in black and white? Can you imagine?
We are certainly glad that we get to experience life in amazing Technicolor. So please join us as we paint the town red on Monday December 9th at our usual spot at the Bike Shed Theatre. Meet us there at 18h00. Bring some pen and paper!

See you soon,

Oriana & Bryce


Time Travel

Have you ever had an urge to go back to the sixties? Do you ever wonder what the future will be like?

As writers, the time for our story or script or poem is always an important part of its context, and we have therefore carefully perfected the art of travelling back and forward in time. If you would like to join us for our next time defying adventure please come and meet us at The Bike Shed Theatre at our regular table at 18h00 on Monday November 25th… Or next Monday, or the one before… No, seriously come and meet us on the 25th!

See you there, or the time after that, or last week…

See you soon

*sigh*

Oriana x


Cecil the Magnificent’s Weekly Email to All Humans

Rule 1. All humans must pick delicious fruit at all times.

Rule 2. Said fruit should be cut into geometric shapes to be decided on at my own whim. Today’s shape is Triangle.

Rule 3. Death to moths!

Rule 4. No orgies on my giant shimmering wings. I don’t care if they feel like purple smoked velvet when you roll about on them – it’s not on!

Rule 5. Humans shall build me a 1000 foot high swing and push me on it as I decree.

Rule 6. I want pickled eggs for dinner. Except Mondays when it shall be marshmallows.

Rule 7. All Vampires to report to my tree house – we’re having a tea party. Bring a teddy bear.

Rule 8. Everyone to say “Fuck you’re huge” every time I cause a solar eclipse.

Rule 9. Songs of praise to be sung to me in the style of nineteenth century hip-hop every Wednesday dinner time.

Rule 10. I am to be addressed at all times as Cecil the Magnificent, destroyer of worlds. I know my nickname and it’s not funny.

Rule 11. The only acceptable swear words are: “Oops a daisy”, “You berk!” and “Buzz off minge tits”.

(Brian Roper)


An Anarcho-Syndicalist of Slime Mould.

We are separate,
Unicellular,
In times of need
We band together,
Sacrificing ourselves
In the search for new resources
Sharing food
Expanding the colony
No leaders
No followers
Each plays its part
And we work together
Producing fruits
And when hunger passes
We separate
Individuals.
Collective
Individuals.

Si


Home

These are not the words I thought I would write today.
These words flicker like a candle
in the corner of a dimly lit room;
gentle though they may be,
they radiate through the dark.

When the day began,
I thought I would write
about a boy I once knew.
About a boy I once was.
A boy who used to dream of flying
until he found he couldn’t sleep.

But the leaves were turning,
and the wind sang through the branches.
A squirrel and a black bird
got into a territorial skirmish.
The smell of autumn was in the air
and a ponderous sky
showed how quickly things can change.

These are not the words I thought I would write down today.
One day, I may be ready to face those words,
but not today.
Today is for innocence.
Today is for the future.
Today is for the knowledge that things can change.
That things will change
and that there is hope in that change.

You are not that little boy any more, Bryce.
You have proven your strength time and again.
One more sleepless night won’t break you.
You are heading in the right direction,
though you were lost for awhile.

Call it a re-birth,
call it a baptism,
call it a come back,
you are here.
Where you belong.
And you couldn’t be anywhere else.

Welcome home.

-Bryce Dumont


August News and not so…

Just a quick reminder of our Resident Writers picnic tomorrow at 14h00 at Northernahy Gardens. It would be fab to see you all there.

In other news our very own James Turner will be performing alongside the fabulous Rebecca Maze, Morwenna Griffiths and Tim King next Sunday evening at Arrietty- Returning the Dark Stare is a thought provoking performance piece which I have already had the pleasure to see and will be seeing again on Sunday August 25th. I highly recommend it!

And in other less exciting news I will be reading some of my newest material at Taking the Mic at Exeter Phoenix this Wednesday. It would be great to have your support and a brilliant opportunity to get together and have a drink if you like- I am sure I will somehow manage to mess my lines and I will find a little easier to laugh if I am laughing with friends.

Muchos love everybody, 

Oriana x


Summer Picnic News



 

  1.  
 
Hello Resident Peoples,

hope your summer is progressing nicely. If, like us, you’re already missing our fortnightly get-togethers at the Bike Shed during this ‘dark’ month of August (that’s theatre speak, luvvies, not a comment on the weather) then you may be delighted to hear that the first Resident Writers’ Summer Picnic will take place on Sunday 18th August at 2pm in Northernhay Gardens. Gather round the memorial at the crest of the hill, bring foodstuffs of your choice (to share if you like or simply for you to consume if you have special dietary requirements). Also bring writing implements because a Resident Writers event would not be the same if we didn’t do a little writing, would it? And if we could all appeal to the weather gods to ensure we have a nice day for it as Sod’s LAw generally decrees that whenever any group of people organise an outside event in the UK the rain will bucket day on said date. Let’s buck the trend by bribing Thor not to get all thunder and lightning-y on our pick-a-nick, Boo Boo. 

See you soon,

Oriana & Steve

PS: No Wasps

PPS: a map can be found here https://maps.google.com/maps?oe=utf-8&ie=UTF-8&q=northernhay+gardens+exeter+map&fb=1&hq=northernhay+gardens&hnear=0x486c52c4d4498da7:0xa976e3256bdfad1e,Exeter,+Devon,+UK&cid=0,0,7894578885066634270&ei=YNv_UZyKDpG4hAf58YDYCQ&ved=0CI0BEPwSMA4