Clyde the wolf
Clyde the wolf
Pantoum Poem
It's raining outside
on this dark night.
Within my walls
I hide away.
On this dark night
not one thing moves,
I hide away
as nothing breathes.
Not one thing moves
within my walls
as Nothing breathes;
"it's raining outside."
The child had never been scared of the monster under the bed, nor the one in the closet; it was the thing outside their bedroom door which terrified them. Sometimes in the dead of night the child's door would creak open and they could hear the monster shift around in the dark of their room. It's shallow breath shook the thin walls, as if it were trying to hide. The child feigned dreams...
But in truth lay awake, in their conscious nightmare. The child's thoughts choked them into silence, quaking through their empty head. They lay counting fears like sheep.
The monster eventually passes back through the door, locking it quietly. The light underneath clicks off, and silence finally consumes the house, all expect one child's bedroom. The bedroom of the only kid not afraid of the dark, the kid who only once drowned in blackness can hide under the covers and sleep.
A short stop motion I made to accompany the sculpture. Berry's exploration through the door features a brief poem I wrote for the animation.
While visiting some of my family in Norway we went mushroom picking in the woods near their house. I brought back some bones; first finding the baby deer skull, which would be made into a lamp. My younger brother later found the leg bone of some animal, which became the trunk of my tree house.
This is a monologue I performed for a Year 13 scripted drama evening at my school. The text is a wonderfully witty, dark comedy titled 'Jerusalem'.
These are the last words of John Rooster Byron to his son Marky. Having just suffered a brutal assualt by three men and a branding iron, he prepares himself to fend off the South Wiltshire police from his woodland home.