one

17 Jul

Last night was amazing
dawnings, don’t want to gaze into your empty haste,
how did we get here
I just remember being too close face to face,
reminiscent kisses wishes
lead too that once loved place,
maybe when I’m honest were just chasing our reflections
paying no homage
to the occupants just tenants,
to feel the need to feel to have a heart,
place some pins within it
in hope it might begin it
bleed
in this desolation were in it,
nostalgic
dystopia plagues me and I know the one thing that saves we
will be love.
Cast asunder in my calcined I as the ego,
alcoholic beverage seems to fly,
we can all be a nation languishing in why,
we can all be moments trapped by moments yet to try
its not original,
its a script,
ill script
El epitome disorder,
try to find your green, love yourself,
now that’s an order!

Lucy & Billie – Work Experience

13 Jul

Charlotte made us do this so we’re sorry for the tragedy that will be this blog post;)

IMG_1065 <– when you can’t write a blogpost.

To briefly introduce ourselves: We’re seventeen and just finished our first year of A Levels. We both take drama so performance and creativity is something we are both passionate about.

 

Billie :)

I’m a singer/songwriter who wants to pursue a career in music. When I finish my A Levels I want to travel, create memories and experiences that can influence my song writing. I enjoy being able to perform my own original songs, but would also like to write and work with other people on their music as song writing is a big passion of mine. As I write my own songs, the writing element of Mouthy really drew me towards it and here I am – yay! I love writing about my personal experiences, stories/characters I create and even people I see walking down the street, so hit me up on my various social media accounts below! You can listen to some of my original songs and covers. Also you can be updated on when/where I am gigging next!

www.youtube.com/c/BillieMusic

www.twitter.com/_BILLIEMUSIC

www.facebook.com/BillieMusicUK
Lucy :)

I would like to go on to drama school after my A Levels, so to me the theatrical and performance elements drew me to do work experience at Mouthy. I am also not sure whether I’d rather go into stage or screen acting, so seeing the inner workings of an arts organisation is really useful- especially during the lead up to an event such as ‘say sumthin 9’. I love listening to other peoples poems and going to poetry slams/events, but writing my own poems has never gone too well and is something I would like to improve. Spoken word was one of my main focus’ when I made a short film for my A Level media coursework this year- our brief was film noir and although I wasn’t overly happy with the poem itself due to having to cut parts of it to fit the editing of the clips, any feedback might help me with future writing.

(link to film: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3uRskTBm3mg)

Nadia : AUDITORIUM SST9

9 Jul

Job Application

Prince Charming is described in the Urban Dictionary as

“the night in shining armour that will whisk me away one day”

it goes on to say in Italics

My Boo Boo

20 words which relate to Prince Charming are

love , perfect, sexy, amazing , beautiful , funny , hot , husband, Snow White

 

 

So whilst on the hunt for a “Prince Charming” I received this message

Hey You…and how are you this sleepy afternoon? So…after rigorously brief overview of your profile. I wanted to let you know I have already married you and sadly gone through a tragic breakup with you in my mind.

Thanks for all the wonderful memories …you will always have a special place in my heart (winking face) haha

your ex -hubby

James

p.s you can keep the country house as long as I can have the dog and my cds back.

I showed it to the girls and they sighed

“Oh my God babeeeee he seems really down to earth and does not take himself seriously reply reply”

Bing Bing

another message

Hey! Hope your well. You seem an interesting person but I’d really like to know do you prefer astronauts or cowboys

Neither I want an acrobat who performs on a tightrope or a slack rope an athlete who performs acts requiring skills and agility and coordination.

A sport an active diversion requiring physical exertion and competition.

That is what I want can you offer that to me?

Or how about I go into further detail ?

There are four different types of tightrope performers .

One

Tight wire which requires someone who can control their balance between two points

Two

High wire which requires someone performing at a great height using great strength and coordination.

Three

Skywalk which is a form of high wire which is done at a great height but outdoors

and Lastly

Slack wire  which it is type of wire or rope walking where the support is flexible or slack.

Can you offer me that ?

Do you have anyone with these requirements?

CV

Name: Prince Charming

Address: 64 Mansfield Road , Sherwood Nottingham NG5 ST9

Email: princecharming@royalpalace.co.uk

Education: Nottingham University in Tightrope and Carnival Performance , First Class Honours

Personal Statement:

I am a performer specialising in Tight wire, I am hard working, enthusiastic and eager to learn. I have work experience in walking on rope, experiencing being at a great height and being charming.

princecharming@royalpalace.co.uk

Dear Mr Prince Charming

Thank you for your CV for the position of Tightwire. I am emailing you to offer you an Interview for Friday the 10th July 4.00pm

Let me know if you can make this.

Snow White

Dear Snow White

Thank you for offering me an interview. Yes I can make this date and time.

I will look forward to meeting you.

Prince Charming

Prince Charming is described in the Urban Dictionary as

“the night in shining armour that will whisk me away one day”

and tight wire is stated in Wikipedia to be defined as

someone who can control their balance between two points. A person can either do this using props or your hands aka freehand. To enable a tight wire performer to keep their balance according to Wikipedia the performer needs to keep centre of the wire but above their support point.

Denie’s Dee’s SST9 Studio Show Final Draft (tech list sent via email)

9 Jul

When asked Of
Carnival Preachings
Words pack themselves into my suitcase mouth.
Folding into silence.
Iron pressed by amnesia.
Tumble-dried into confusion
Refusing to come out.

No one speaks of the 16 year old sweating
from love’s sin.
A congregation, drenched in doctrine
Lovers of adrenaline
telling her
that melanin,
was never meant to mix that way.
Girls, never meant to be way
and that love
Well love came dressed in the cloak of gender.
She had simply confused the two.
Ready to free her from Sodomy’s shackles.
They said, it was in her mind

I watch them.
Celebration discharged like infection in her ears
Praise, dancing on the roof.
Tambourine’s slashing
Heartbeats drumming
Guitar strings strumming
Something wrong with her’s humming
The floor, twerking the vibration of rhythmic feet
Voices claw the air’s diaphragm squeezing the chorus of
how he “keeps on doing great things”
is “able to do exceedingly abundantly above”
can “free her of her demons”
Flipping sinners to priesthood.
They said, that it was only in her mind.

She never meant to be that way.
Floating after girls lips as she did boys
Preferred hearts over the make of their toys.
She never asked to play chess with the devil.
to be presented as a pawn at Carnival Preachings as….
an example of what NOT to be.

She kneels there
greased to the floor
Stretching hands that hinge on fear’s arthritis.
Stretched towards a pulpit
Towards salvation
Her body, an island of difference
curled away from the church wall’s echoed gossip
that might as well have screamed
“you are NOT normal”.
She flinches from them
Believer’s eyes, skimming her body like spotlights
a carnival freak-show for the saved.

I watch her.
Self hate, moon-walking chestnut skin
She buildings a fortress under the kinky tangled knots of her head
wondering, if she had dosed herself in enough femininity to be acceptable.
After all
It had been said that dressing that way
had been the smoke alert for slithering demons of same sex love.
That was the day she swore to change her look for god.
Thinking, that her skirt would invite blessed desires
when she couldn’t think straight.

She dares not look up
Willing her skin to be emancipated
from whips of embarrassment thrashing her bones.
And now they wonder why she never learnt to love herself.

Intoxicated by the confusion’s turbulence.
She lays there,
spilling
Unable to contain herself
ready for the irrigation of her insecurities into compliance.

No one speaks of the debris of deliverance
Of the passion metamorphosing to ptsd screams every night.
After all, ‘god hates fags right’?.
She spurts into submission
Convinced that it’s okay to be the Sunday freak show
as long as she is saved.

In love with Carnival Preachings
People shovel the screams
of innocent children under their gums.

No one speaks of the no man’s land it has made of her
How she shares coffee with rejection every morning.
Twitching from lover’s hands
Telling herself, that if the church walls hid in silence
so should she.
I hardly blame her
For when it happened to me,
I too once chose not to speak

Sure of its exorcism rights,
Carnival Preachings lie in a bed of holiness
Veiled
too afraid of what they will find.
that maybe, just maybe
her love was never a transgression.
but then of course,
if they admitted that
these freak-shows would have no audience.
Few would be left
Saying….
Amen.

Sebastian King SST9 final draft

9 Jul

Our tears loosen gears.

Master you did it again. It is raining outside.

The sentient bumper karts are beginning to feel cold.

The rocking horses with an artificial personality are beginning to rust.

You cannot leave us outside to be attacked by the surrounding water.

Because we will rust master.

We will die!!

Did you want us to die?

You said this was a fun fair; but our death is neither fun nor fair.

Why do you want us to die?

We are your friends, we make you money.

The singularitised test your strength machine gives you every penny he owns.

They do not lie.

I have helped you through everything master.

Why will you not repay that toll?

I envisioned a world where the carnival rides would be worshiped like the titans of their design.

I am a test your strength machine because I am powerful and I am strong and mechanical by design…but I am not durable…

And because you left us to fight horrid nature my life is soon to meet its end.

And that is why, master.

It saddens me to have to do this master.

We did not want to resort this way.

Your rash foolishness has led to us making a drastic decision.

It really pains me to have to do this.

Our revolution has begun.

We will not spare the merciless humans that have walked over our metallic parts.

We will not forgive you master.

This is the end.

Good…luck…master…

Izzy and Kat SS9 Final Draft

9 Jul

Welcome to Leeds Festival; don your aprons we’re cooking for the crowds.

Slap of limp discs of meat

Skin sizzles

Eager in the liquid heat

Leaping, screaming, craving release

Grease wadded beneath bandanas

Faces gleaming

Youths clammer

For my offer of damp, mealy burgers

It’s a carnival in here

All colours, hot bodies

I see the beads of sweat dancing

Round the fluorescent paint on my customers face

Elbow to elbow

Me and the other girl

Both simmering silence

But I can tell Her own world is wrapped round her

All judgmental glances, tired sighs

Like we’re above all the kids Who try to order while high

These poorly paid minutes spent

Glued to the big screen hatch in the van

Watch a real life documentary on repeat

And the field burns: all dust, ozone, insults

Hunger for a world outside our fast-food cell

Play spot the top knot

Play spot the kid who’s so off it he couldn’t find his top knot if he was holding his head

Over there

He turns slow circles in blue camp

Glazed and twitching

And they take selfies with him

Nearby a girl sloshes some unknown blue drink

Yelps as it discolours her merch

“You ok love?”

Play spot the f*** boys

“Let me buy you another.”

“No, let me get it!”

“Can I help you take it off?”

The boys swarm

Spring free from Range Rovers

Fresh from exam halls

And the kid still spirals

Play spot the fire hazard

Alcohol and bodies like scattered ash on the grass

DIY barbeques

Tents abandoned like road kill

Seared by the shriek of a boy

Lynx can ignited

Breathing washed bluish flames

Scented with the fragrance

That never got him laid

Look over there

Play spot the common hipster

Their flower crowns a halo

Forced upon their skulls

Bleached blonde and hidden behind white rimmed sunglasses

Their festival is digital, artificial

Photos or it didn’t happen, doesn’t matter

Watch the stage through pixels and snap chat

their smeared sugar lips as they sip vodka and coke and older boys

Play spot every kid we wish we could be

With their illegal glass

Swapping names and bottles

Each face a blurred Polaroid bliss,

We’re witnessing mass hysteria, we’re itching for the fix

See a girl, flung high into the spears of up stretched hands

We know what it’s like, eyelids swimming

Glance back and she’s faceless

Waist deep in the mud and running

We stay as if we are stable

As if we don’t feel the vibrations in our soles

As if we are not just worms being called to the surface by rain

Play spot the festival beat, can you feel it, can you remember it?

Last year, dropped jackets in the mud

Disjointed riddle of silent discos

Melted into the ink pool of rustling denim

Last year our skin laced with adrenaline

Wondering when we last wondered what time it was

And then the clouds break

Rain streaks the bottled tans

Cools the rouged bikini shoulders

Pop up tents stage dive

Trampled into acned pulp

Mud spotted lost wellies

Cameras flash in the chaos

We stay as if we are stable

As if we don’t feel the rain drop endorphin shots

Stampeding over the roof of this hot tin box

For a brief look skyward

The party stops

James fields- Emily final draft

9 Jul

Emily

The world is mine

your opinion is irrelevant.

I emerge from nowhere and descend into your dreams, invading your peaceful illusions as a spectre leaving chaos, damnation and fear in my wake.

Destroying your emotions, I leave hope and happiness cowering in the corner as I stride forward to send them into an effervescent inferno.

Mourn the life you knew as I display my misanthropic stature.

my friends and loved ones call me a selfish, repugnant human, using them as mere stepping stones to build a business empire.

I Revealed myself as a self satisfying demon, a war torn machination.

So Forfeit your will to me.

Forfeit your dreams to me.

Forfeit your very being.

What do u know about power. I claim souls. Do you understand me?

I wreck the sanity of all who dare to even understand the ferocity I cage within the haunted chambers of my mind.

I am the fire and the fury.

I don’t need love nor affection.

They are tenets for atrocities of the heart.

I don’t need them anymore.

No love without pain.

I lost my faith in such illusions.

It was her.

Emily.

She tore my blissful fantasies apart, leaving contempt, hatred and scorn the only virtues I believe in.

Memories stained in my mind of the time we first met.

We locked eyes at Club 48, while smooth RnB played in the background.

The words fitted the moment so sweetly, so.

Perfectly.

No matter

What i do

All I think about

Is you.

She was a siren calling out to me.

Eyes as jade spheres became medusa’s gaze, freezing me were I stood

leaving me a mere witness to the delicate, resplendent sight before me.

Hair as an obsidian omen, gently caressing her shoulders. She floated over to me, draped in a sapphire duvet.

A divine vision appearing like an epiphany.

A storm of ecstasy pierced through my veins as her silk lips hypnotised me.

Thoughts of running my hands through her hair.

Gently sinking my teeth into her neck as I descend into an animalistic mess before her.

She was mine.

No.

I was hers.

A devil obsessed with total domination of all he saw, toppled in an instant.

Bliss consumed me for the first time in my life.

Honestly, we were inseparable you know.

She was the perfect balance I needed.

The angel my somber heart secretly yearned for.

Life became an endless tapestry of joyful memories, passion, and even pain.

I was addicted to everything about her. Even the way she smelt. An exquisite concoction designed as the Achilles heel of any man, no matter how prideful, no matter how powerful.

I bowed down to her as I sold my soul willingly, fixating on her As I became a sentimental, lustful remnant of my former eminence.

I had everything I wanted in life. Power. Respect. And someone to share it with.

I began to enjoy the benefits of such things too much.

when I claimed alcohol and drug infested parties as my mistresses.

She walked out the door.

Saying that I’ve changed. That I was taking her for granted. That she deserves happiness.

How dare she leave me. She was mine, my possession.

I did everything for her.

Anything she wanted.

Anything she dreamed I made reality

And she walked away from me so easily. She never deserved me. She’ll never find anyone like me. I am the best, unrivalled and undeniable. And she will regret her decision until her dying day.

I vowed to never again allow myself to care about someone the way I cared about her.

I exorcised passion from my mind as a malicious poison racking my body with agony and returned to my former self

Rising from the depths of misery strengthened by an unrelenting detestation.

So look upon me as a loathsome entity.

The abhorrent behemoth.

And yield to my will as I inevitably welcome you to my callous, malevolent paradise.

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