A little prose...

I feel that I am slowly getting confident enough to write more than poems and have attempted to engage a little more imagination..

It wasn’t the Roman’s that he was angry with. The all powerful legions that were able to crush any army that stood to confront their mighty war machine could not be blamed for the control of the population. The administrators that the Roman Empire installed to govern the vanquished state were the real destroyers of the hope and faith that this proud nation once had. Looking at the drab coloured people that inhabited the market the youth noticed the way they bent over and shuffled along as if by hunching their shoulders they could deny their true feelings from being exposed. They did not realise that this act did in fact telegraph their feelings, their dead dreams coupled with their imprisoned realities screamed from beneath the billowing dusty cloaks. The youth constantly searched for a leader that would be able to raise an army to destroy the occupation force, but this was foolish thinking. No, he realised that the victory, the freedom would have to come through the destruction of the “installed”, their own people who had chosen to betray the nation in the interest of wealth and power for their own families over the needs of the whole population. The youths lip curled with the hatred that he felt for these people, these people he had admired before the occupation, these people who had led all the religious ceremonies and administered the sacred laws, these people who had so easily moved from defenders of the faith to destroyers of the truth.

As was the custom the youth studied the law and observed all the religious traditions that still were allowed to be practiced under the strict control of the “installed”. His intelligent inquiring mind was constantly devouring the scrolls of the past, the letters and the studies of the leaders of a peaceful, prosperous time. The “installed” allowed him access to the most delicate and closely guarded writings because of their arrogant belief in their infallibility. His commitment to completing his apprenticeship in his fathers workshop coupled with the long after hours study regime that he imposed on himself convinced the “installed” of his desire to join them. It was in his studies that he found his leader, the one to rid the community of the poison that had permeated through all levels of living. The “installed” owned everything and the items that were not owned they controlled. The laws were moulded to suit the “installed”, to protect their interests and deny the success of others. This is how the country lived, worked and worshipped.

He planned carefully, silently and thoughtfully. He practised his craft in the dead of night, out in the fields while he tended the flocks of herders who were grateful for the rest. His voice became like a weapon for him, a booming canon or a soft, soothing wind that whispered peace to the sheep around him. He took to fishing to get to know the ways of the stars and the power of the seas. He learnt of the tides that brought shoals of fish and learnt of the sharp drop off just off the beach that was home to schools of herring that appeared at certain times of the year. For years he studied and practiced for the time that would come, the time of confrontation and subversive attacks. He collected a fanatical group of friends that were slowly exposed to his plans, reluctantly agreeing with the outcome. 


Here are some more poems that seem to come up from time to time................


The world rolls over around the sun,

Planets and moons orbit spaces.

As our minds slide slowly by

Barely revolving to my naked eye.


How can an eye be so deceived

By distance and movement and whats between

 While they hurtle along at invisible speed.

It is hard to think when what you know

Is that the  planets are moving in elipsical throws

So if I stand quiet and so very still

The rocks that go by might wait.



Words that have power and they just might

Redeem the redeemed or fill them with fright

To learn what is known, or accepted or taught

To die a death of a thousand nights and never, no never,

Consider the light.


Living as parasites from the carcass of hope

Live of the fear that consumes the most

The fear of death.




I wish I had a great white canvass

A spray can, bright colours and nothing between us

I wish to be angry and take spiteful offence

And battle the demon that won’t even dance

I wish to explode one fine sunny day

Then the noises, those noises would blow away



Falling leaves of burnt orange grey

Of brown and purple of kittens at play

Of nights and apples and frangipani leaves

That sail like canoes on the ripples of the breeze


The Room

Speckled grey floor with

Dirty white walls.

Bright orange splashes with

Holed panelled ceiling.

Small blue cushioned chairs with

A red phone over there, and me.







The Quiet

I like the quiet and being alone

I like neat and tidy and no telephone

But I see disorder and chaos at play

With each room I enter in wild disarray

With volume on high and attention at low

With no where that is safe, no where to go

There are five little bodies, entities or sprites

That mix up my days and disrupt my nights

When they are sleeping the quiet returns

As I wander restlessly with all my concerns

No, I don’t like the quiet!

Henry IV

The King in the openning scenes speaks highly of Hotspur and even suggests that Hal and Hotspur were exchanged at birth "That some night tripping fairy had exchanged"(1.1.85) Hotspur is therefore represented by the language of honour, duty and action contrasted by Falstaff who is bound by frivolity, idleness and excess. These two characters are unable to flow into each others world and therefore they are set to fail. This leaves Hal that can move freely between the two worlds and ultimately be the balance. Honour and compassion, duty and freedom. 

The word I have been searching for is Doppelgänger, although a literary technique more used by writers primarily of the gothic genre, 300 years later, I feel that is exactly what Shakespeare is alluding to. Hal shows that the personality/ lifestyle can live in two places at once but the genius of Shakespeare puts Hal in ultimate control as he decides between the worlds and is not a victim of them. Example, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. I think the idea of reconciling our own worlds is easier for the common man because we aren't under the scrutiny as those who are in power are, think todays media, and therefore we can keep our work, uni, family lives fairly seperate and therefore live a little free.

Comment on Luke.

G'day Luke,

I'm Steve in 3rd year lit. A mad golfer that has never viewed the game as poetry or personified the aspects off the tee. I appreciate what you have done because the unbelievers (in golf) who will never see the fluid beauty of a softly drawing tee shot as it slides to the middle of the fairway or the powerful snap of a ProV1 as it skips, bites then spins back toward the pin will not see the pleasure/pain of your words.

Comment on Lyndal

Oh Miss Lyndal,

I think that you write beautifully and you should employ the timeless theme of LOVE as represented by Shakespeare with the timeless theme of space/time travel portrayed by the time lords. I am not sure whether you could include yourself as the love interest and the alien bad guy at the same time but I am sure of your ability to pull it off.

Tom Baker was much better..............


The Tempest

  The Tempest seems to be the most intricate of the plays we have looked at this semester. It encompasses the natural vs the supernatural with the spirits Caliban and Ariel interacting for and against the magician Prospero. It is often comedic, has a strong moral message and is most certainly romantic.
The morality is difficult as it does not seem to follow a typical Shakespearean plot in the order of; hero is wronged, bad guy gets the reward, good guy unveils bad guy and unfortunately both are killed. The Tempest shows Prospero to be rightly justified for his planned revenge however we see that compassion and forgiveness become very powerful forces in the execution of his magic. It is said that perhaps Prospero is Shakespeare's final farewell to the theatrical life and an announcement of his retirement. If this is correct then it can be seen as a symbol of death as Shakespeare leaves the life he has lived and created for so long and moves to a new life away from the stage and writing. Maybe it is in this exit that Shakespeare sees that the act of revenge is unimportant or irrelevant to the living of our lives.

I was surprised to come accross this interpretation of the play and the way it is described as a the neoclassical  three unities.
  1. The unity of action: a play should have one main action that it follows, with no or few subplots.
  2. The unity of place: a play should cover a single physical space and should not attempt to compress geography, nor should the stage represent more than one place.
  3. The unity of time: the action in a play should take place over no more than 24 hours.
The source states that the play is the only one of its kind written by Shakespeare which reminds me of the MASQUE theme that runs through the text. A masque being a "one-off" creation that was never to be used again and I think that the style of the work by Shakespeare mimics this ideal perfectly.

I'll Try to Understand!!!!!

I do not like Falstaff. I understand the characters need to juxtapose the world of the King and Hotspur to the audience however I don't like the way Shakespeare denies Falstaff the ability to grow. This means that Prince Harry chooses the "right" time to come out from under the safe cloak of Falstaff and into the harsh armour of the King. Shakespeare treats the character of Hotspur with more dignity than Falstaff at the end of the play. Hotspur is allowed to die a heroes death, on the battlefield against the royal house that he covets, and by allowing this scene Shakespeare cleanses the character flaws of Hotspur. He is unforgiving, unmerciful and a traitor to his country wheras Falstaff was a knight at some point himself, or at least a Sir, and is loyal to Hal. How is his loyalty repaid though.... Cast away from Hal and his pseudo son.

No, I do not like the way the treatment of Falstaff. Why can't he also rise to the challenge and aid the King in quelling the uprising? Why can't he also "sober up" and take a seat at the royal table? Shakespeare seems to like the character and uses him to plead the need for the arts over war, yet destruction is the outcome for Falstaff and the riches the wages for war.

How about a more modern setting yet with the original language.

Anzac Day

Just a little thought of times gone by, of quiet reflection and of situations confused. We need them on the fence.

The desert speckled B.D.U’s (battle dress uniform) were not much help in the urban environment however this did not change the mission nor the patrol objectives. The lone figure, weighted down with pack, extra water, double ammunition and assault rifle moved awkwardly, slowly, exposed to the web like streetscape of the city.

With a heightened awareness that comes from constant training and the now present fear were the company for the forward scout as he sought to follow a route marked on a map that made sense to someone else, someone that certainly wasn’t here. He noticed the real lack of cover, he had to, if a contact were to go down only the baked earth underfoot or the dry mud walls framing the road could be seen and this provided no comfort at all. So exposed, he cautiously rounded the corner into a small square intersection of the labyrinth. Movement catches his eye, instinctively he drops to one knee and prepares to engage. Split second decision making, evaluate the target, threat or safe. His thumb smoothly slides the safety to live as the rifle glides up and nestles into his right shoulder. Body weight slightly adjusts forward, tightens, ready to absorb the recoil of the weapon. Right forefinger moves off the trigger guard and pressures the firing mechanism.

Aligns the target, exhales for balance, and the sudden piercing boom of a rifles discharge. The target kicks, spins and crumbles lifeless to the earth.

Screams of “Contact, move on me.” filled his ringing ears. Rising he moved with the rest of the section to the dark shape bundled unnaturally on the ground, a non combatant, a woman, dead. “Next time wait for the scout’s assessment.” screamed the section leader to the shooter. The shooter looks to the scout, mumbles an apology and moves away to the secure perimeter. The scout felt something, he was sure, perhaps an uneasy feeling of relief, of surprise, of gratitude as he realized that he didn’t have to make the decision. The next one would be his.





On reviewing what I might look at withe the live journal I decided that since I had already put a lot of thought and study into the discussions the writing does fit on a live journal post!!!

Love does not seem to have evolved much over the last 300 years. If we look at just three of the writers in the Anthology we can see that love was whatever the writer needed it to be. In the case of Marlowe it is no doubt romantic, passionate and full of promise; whether its sustainable or not is another question. Thomas Campion in "Theres a garden in her face" puts all the power in the hands of a woman who is obviously stunning to him and yet in "I care not for these ladies" opts for "the wanton country maid" over those "who must be wooed and prayed". Shakespeare takes the theme of passionate love and practicatally destroys it in his sonnet 130 "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun" however beautifully redeems himself in the end with "I think my love as rare". The poem "On Monsieur's Departure" by Elizabeth 1 moves the reader in its yearning for love yet opts for sacrifice "I love and yet am forced to hate" and in all these example we can identify our modern selves and isn't it great that they didn't sort it all out back then and deprive us of loves fantastic adventures.......

I'm going out on a limb and saying that Adonis (Shakespeare) despises lust as a destroyer of innocence and a perverter of truth (love), "But lusts effect is tempest after sun" and the most obvious "Love is all truth, lust full of forged lies." both show Shakespeares hatred of the feeling of lust.

If we look at the following sonnets we can see the real Shakespeare caught by the whole painful reality of love as he tries to convince himself that he loves for pure reasons yet falls in the end; however I still believe it is a purer love. I think that in Venus and Adonis Shakespeare is able to be far more aggressive in refuting the advances when in reality he is just as frail as all of us.
Sonnet 141
In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote.
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone.
But my five wits, nor my five senses, can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unswayed the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart's slave and vassal wretch to be.
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain.

Sonnet 142
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving.
O but with mine compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving;
Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine,
That have profaned their scarlet ornaments
And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robbed others' beds' revénues of their rents.
Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov'st those
Whom thine eyes woo as mine impórtune thee.
Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows,
Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
By self-example mayst thou be denied.

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