This blog is the compilation of the individual and group performance tasks that we have done from this bimester's prelim up to today. It would also serve as our final performance task for the final term!
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𝔟𝔞𝔥𝔞𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔯𝔬 ❃ 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫!
Introduction
This blog is all about poems, scripts, and short stories. It is all about enhancing your imaginations and skills in critical thinking. We decided to post this blog to help our Co students to have some ideas in making poems, poetry and short stories. It could help them to have some background especially if they have skills in critical thinking and they also like to read to avoid boredom. Poems, poetry and short stories help us to embrace the world of Literature. It is creative, awesome, beautiful, and simple to understand and can make you feel excitement, and also it could make yourself entertained. The content really gets you thinking about other things that affect the poetry world. It could really inspire you to read and write.
This blog is the compilation of the individual and group performance tasks that we have done from this bimester’s prelim up to today. It would also serve as our final performance task for the final term. Every member had fun in complying with different tasks and performance tasks that were given in two months. From poetry to being playwrights of our own story was surely a great experience, for us HUMSS 12 students from St. Catherine of Alexandria, under Ma’am Mariella Abel’s supervision in this specific subject.
We are excited to let you see the fruit of our hard work for the past months— in terms of conceptualizing situations and ideas, constructing words to beautiful strings of sentences and letters our spirits roam in the beautiful realm of writing. Please disregard the posts under this, and proceed to viewing the tags above, Enjoy! ♡
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Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable. Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.
Carl Sandburg, from The Atlantic, March 1923.
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𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖞’𝖘 𝕽𝖊𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
Creative writing or Experimental writing, a type of aesthetic articulation, attracts the creative mind to pass on importance using symbolism, story, and show. This is rather than explanatory or down to earth types of composing. This type incorporates verse, fiction (books, short stories), contents, screenplays, and innovative genuine
I learned that poems are a kind of writing dependent on the exchange of words and musicality. In poems, words are hung together to shape sounds, pictures, and thoughts that may be excessively mind boggling or unique to portray legitimately. Poems were once composed by genuinely exacting principles of meter and rhyme, and each culture had its own standards, You can also express what you feel through poems. Short Story is a brief anecdotal exposition account that is shorter than a novel and that generally manages just a couple of characters. In short stories, it’s either you can read a fictitious story or a true story. Lastly, Script is a composed variant of a play or film. In case you're trying out for a film, you'll get the content to rehearse a scene or two. In this subject of creative writing, I learned a lot and I know how to compose poems properly and also make short stories properly.
In conclusion to that, Poems, Short story and Script really helps us not only in our studies but also in real life. You can write poems and compose a short stories to express what you have felt through writing poems and composing a short story.
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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖓-𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖊𝖆𝖗 (𝕬𝖓 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖆𝖈𝖙-𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞)
[A night time at Van’s blue-walled apartment with a birthday cake on the table and a sharp knife on the side, the room was decorated with colourful lights, hanging ribbons on the ceiling and yellow balloons imprinted with the words “Happy birthday to me!” with a drawer, one dim night light on and a personal computer adjacent to his bend, facing in front, emphasizing melancholy. A young boy, Van is in a deep sleep, eyes are closed shut, not moving yet breathing heavily, turning his head on the right and onto the left repeatedly and frantically; indicating of the occurrence of a horrendous dream, the breathing became more heavy and loud, then suddenly Van awoke, shocked – heavy breathing with two eyes seeming like it’s popping out; exhibiting a very surprised look, with his both hands on his chest, looking like he’s about to cry. Van frantically searched for his mobile phone, and upon finding it, Van then exhibits a sad blank stare onto the phone and then onto the wall in front of him.]
VAN
[Holding the phone and placing it in his left chest, while maintaining a sad, but blank eyed expression on his face.]
No one called me.
[He scrolled through his phone for the last time and then sighed in a heavy manner. Van then put his phone aside specifically on the right side of this pillow, facing the audience. Van inserts a frown, a sad expression and body language.]
It was my birthday yesterday but no one even bothered to greet me and celebrate my day with me. No one seem to even remember to think of me, even to thank me for the laughter I shared with them, the friendship I’ve made with them, they only seem to remember me during times that I bring convenience in certain situations that they put themselves in.
[Van looked up and stared at the Ribbons placed on the ceiling of his room.]
A “VOICE” COMING FROM VAN’S CELLULAR PHONE
[off-stage.]
You know what? it’s just because they don’t love you.
VAN
[Wide-eyed and caught off-guard by the voice he just heard. He was the only human being present in his room. He was shocked. Van then proceeds in rummaging through his bedroom, trying to find “someone” present with him. He itched his head in confusion.]
Who spoke? I am the only one in here. I am pretty sure that I am the only one in here.
A “VOICE” COMING FROM VAN’S CELLULAR PHONE
[off-stage; laughing in an amused manner, indicating that the voice is mocking the way that Van has no idea about what’s happening, that his Cellular phone is actually speaking to him.]
How are you so sure that I am like you? I am far way more superior than a dumb human like you, not knowing what and why and how and who. I am powerful, someone that could manipulate and could lie but one thing is for sure… That I am the bearer of your reality; your truth, Van.
[off-stage; laughing hysterically.]
VAN
[Stopped looking through his room, and looked the direction where the sound was going. Van noticed that it came from his Cellular phone and he slowly tries to calm himself and he makes his way near it; having both of his arms on the right side of his chest, indicating vulnerability.]
What? Is it you who’s speaking with me?
[He took the phone in his hands with a wrinkled forehead.]
A “VOICE” COMING FROM VAN’S CELLULAR PHONE
[off-stage; holds in laughter and screams with conviction, aiming to scare Van.]
YES!
[off-stage; laughs hysterically.]
Wasn’t it too obvious? My dear Van, that’s why people hate you. You’re are nothing but a dumb piece of shat. An unknowing friend, too naïve for this world. No one can stand you that’s why they make their way out of yours. It’s funny that you cannot figure the reasons why on your own. Good thing I am here, to let you know.
[off-stage; laughs hysterically.]
VAN
[Expresses shock, confusion and sorrow in his eyes and body language. He breathes faster and heavier as he threw the phone on the wall with all his strength and the demise he felt, emphasizing his need to destroy what have hurt his feelings.]
Who are you to tell me that? Now that you are broken, you can’t have any opinion towards me and how I live my life.
[breathing heavily while angrily staring at the phone.]
A “VOICE” COMING FROM VAN’S CELLULAR PHONE
[off-stage.]
Are you so sure about that young man? You can never break me. I am always here present with you.
VAN
[ He swiftly made his way where he threw the phone, picks it up and threw it again on the ground. He then put his hands on his chest, while trying to catch his breath, looking like he was about to cry.]
No! I said no!
[He spoke in might.]
A “VOICE” COMING INSIDE OF VAN’S DRAWER
[Off-stage; clicks tongue and speaks in a sympathetic manner.]
Pst! Hey! Open me! Open me!
VAN
[With teary eyes, he turns around to where the drawer is situated with wide eyes, slowly making his way towards it, with shaking hands, he opened the drawer.]
A “VOICE” COMING FROM VAN’S PAINTBRUSH
[Off-stage]
Hey! Haven’t you missed me? I was once your favourite. Don’t you remember?
VAN
[ Van was taken aback by what he heard. He wipes his tears He continues to open his drawer and reveals the paintbrush and various oil paints that he had been storing inside for years now. He took them out one by one and took the paintbrush lastly. He held the paintbrush firmly on his right hand while his left hand was situated on the left part of his chest.]
What? You’re talking too?
[He asked in a surprised manner.]
A “VOICE” COMING FROM VAN’S PAINTBRUSH
[Off-stage; speaks in a mischievous tone.]
Well, well… seems that you forgot about me, just like how your friends forgot about you.
[Laughs in a teasing manner.]
I think you also deserve to be forgotten on your birthday; you seem to be forgetting the things that once meant the world to you.
VAN
[He put the paintbrush down, and started sobbing uncontrollably. He sits down at the edge of his bed while having the both of his hands placed in front of his head. He was in great shock and grief after uncovering the things that he wanted to forget.]
I only did it for a particular reason. I loved painting; it was my soul; it was my identity. I know none of you wouldn’t understand and will call me shallow if I told why I stopped and left you unremembered. You wouldn’t understand.
[He narrates in a teary and shaky voice.]
A “VOICE” COMING FROM VAN’S PAINTBRUSH
[Off-stage; speaks in a mischievous tone.]
You’re weak. You’re really weak. Your mother was just being honest about how your paintings made no sense three years ago, when it really made no sense at all! How can you be so sulky about things that are true? You owe to us for being so considerate.
VAN
[sobs]
You have no idea how that remark affected me. Painting was my everything. I was just showing my mother about how much I appreciate her. That time she was having a hard time at work since she raises us alone, and I just want to ease her tired hands and loneliness by painting her in her favourite yellow dress. Yellow was her favourite, and as I painted her in that dress; yellow has become my favourite too.
A “VOICE” COMING FROM VAN’S PAINTBRUSH
[Off-stage; laughs]
You are such a cry baby. No one loves you because you are so emotional. You’re too much to handle that is why your mother never took care that much of you. Your siblings received affection - the only thing you could do is to wish for it. Your mother clearly hated you. Your mother hated your painting. Every one does. Even us. But I’m just telling you directly because I am your friend.
[Off-stage; clicks tongue.]
I have an advice. Yellow was your favourite, right?
VAN
[Clearly on a mentally unstable state; uncontrollably having deep breaths and cries, having his heart on his lap.]
Is. Now what?
A “VOICE” COMING FROM VAN’S PAINTBRUSH
[Off-stage; chuckles.]
Yellow… Yellow… Yellow… What a bright colour! A colour of joy, of surprises, and of optimism. Huh, why don’t you eat it? Have some for yourself. You need it, Van. You really need it.
VAN
[Stares blankly at the wall with bloodshot eyes.]
Maybe, it is the only way to end this misery don’t you think?
A “VOICE” COMING FROM VAN’S PAINTBRUSH
[Off-stage; speaks in a fake sympathetic, persuading tone.]
Yes, young man. I’m with you on this. Why don’t you try it? It won’t hurt if you try. Now get off that bed, and get the yellow paint, squirt a ton on your mouth and consume it. It won’t be bad, you’ll be happy! just like how happy you were before. You miss that old Van right? That bubbly kid years ago? There’s no way you don’t. I know you really do. Now, hurry.
VAN
[Wipes his tears while slowly making his way to his drawer. He takes the yellow paint and squirted the big tube of oil paint inside his mouth, he then takes a deep breath and swallowed the paint that he placed inside his mouth.]
A “VOICE” COMING FROM VAN’S PAINTBRUSH
[Off-stage; laughs hysterically.]
Don’t you feel better, Van?
[Off-stage; speaks in a mocking tone.]
That’s why no one likes you. You’re dumb.
[Off-stage; laughs in a dark manner almost sinister.]
VAN
[Clearly is on an unstable mental state. He harshly coughs the sticky oil paint out of his system. Uncontrollably catching his breath while putting his hands, tapping his neck and stomach.]
How do you make these things stop talking?! How do I stop it?! How?! I’m tired I really am!
[He exclaims, tries so hard to breath but instead he pukes some of the yellow paint out of his system. With his slow pace, he went to his table where his birthday cake was situated. Van takes a large piece of it, not even bothering to take a small size out of the cake. He picks the large piece of cake by hand, and eating in a monstrous manner, devours every single part of the cake to cover the taste of the yellow oil paint. He finishes, he takes his right hand on the table and the left on his hand, he pants and is having a hard time swallowing the cake.]
Will this end all of this?
[He speaks in a gibberish manner.]
THE “VOICES” COMING FROM THE BROKEN VAN’S CELLULAR PHONE AND PAINTBRUSH
[Off-stage; chuckles and tries to hold their laugh back.]
No!!!!
[Off-stage; laughs hysterically, mocking at the sight of Van being full of distressful thoughts and actions. They continued to laugh so loudly that it rang a million of bells inside of Van’s head.]
VAN
[Van held his composure, he puts halt on all of his actions, except of the involuntary panting. He took the remaining parts of the cake on his hands. He took the untouched knife, sitting pretty beside the devoured cake, holds it firmly in his left hand.]
Now, will this end everything?
[Van puts his right hand on his right ear, the left hand holding the sharp knife, with his full strength he swung the knife on his right ear, next his right; severing it both. Blood gushes out of his side while he placed the wide grin on his face, celebrating his victory. He thinks that he can’t hear them now, he severed his ear; nothing’s left. No one could talk except for him – at least that is what he thinks. He covers both of his bloody ears while maintaining a happy face, he starts to laugh.]
Ha! You’re all gone now. You are all gone now! I won, I won! Joke’s on you!
[He laughs hysterically while covering his ears not knowing the pain yet because of the unconscious shock.]
[Silence for about 5 seconds while Van’s looks around the room with a feisty grin plastered onto his face.]
THE “VOICES” COMING FROM THE BROKEN VAN’S CELLULAR PHONE AND PAINTBRUSH
[Off-stage; chuckles and tries to hold their laugh back.]
Van, we will never go away. We love you.
[Off-stage; laughs in a mocking manner and it remains and never stops.]
VAN
[ His grin slowly fades realizing that the voices were still there, his hands were bloody, and were still placed on the ear. He then has a blank expression towards the audience, while dramatically kneeling on the center of the stage. He closed his eyes, and starts to frantically scream and sob.]
THE “VOICES” COMING FROM THE BROKEN VAN’S CELLULAR PHONE AND PAINTBRUSH
[Off-stage; continues to laugh at the sight of Van.]
VAN
[Slowly is losing consciousness and strength, lies at the floor with his hands on his ear. Sobs and screams stop.]
[Silence]
[The computer screen unexpectedly lights up and produces a constant “ding” sound Indicating the entrance of notifications in his computer.]
[Sound effect; whistling, steps and the door closing; indicating the exit of the voices.]
***
Link to download the file: THE MODERN-DAY EAR LINK 1 / THE MODERN-DAY EAR LINK 2 --- (kindly open the link on a new tab for it to work.)
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𝕮𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖆 (𝕬 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖇𝖞 𝕷𝖏 𝕲𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖟 & 𝕹𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕹𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖔)
Once in a tiny village there lived a couple. Their love for each other grow and soon gave birth to a cute little baby. They named her Celia.
Time passed by and Celia grown and become a kid. While her mother is brushing the hair of her precious little daughter in front of a mirror. Her mother notice something, she looked closely to the mirror and then looked back to Celia’s face. Her mother were in shock to see that Celia amongst others have a tiny nose. Only Celia have a tiny nose in their village.
Time passed and Celia grow older and reached the age of 13 years old. having a tiny nose amongst others is more clearly to see. Whenever she goes outside to play, kids in their village rejects her and then says, “We don’t want to play with you, you are different from us, you have a tiny nose, you’re ugly”.
After hearing what they said, Celia rushed home and cried and ask herself, “Why am I ugly?”, “Why do I have such a tiny nose?”, “Why am I different?”.
Her mother heard what Celia said and rushed to comfort her asking, “What happened my dear?”. “Mother why am I different?, you and father have a normal nose, why am I different?” she replied. “There is nothing to worry about it my dear you’re beautiful as you are.” She replied. “Here have this necklace, it will serve as sign of how beautiful you are Celia.” Said her mother.
A minute after, Celia stopped crying and hugged her mother tight. Because other kids does not want to play with her, Celia think of something to do so that she can amuse herself. She tried to learn on how to build furniture’s like her father. Not like typical other girls her age do who is busy making themselves ready to become a beautiful young adult. As time passed by. Celia became good at making furniture’s such as tables and chairs. Along with her father, they roam around the village to sell their beautiful crafts. “This chair is well-made.” A man said. “Ohh! Thank you. That chair is made from a high-grade oak tree, that’s quite a high quality chair.” Replied her father. “I can tell it is.” The man replied.
While the people are looking at their crafts. Something caught their attention at the back of their horsed wagon. It is a young lady covering her face. “Why are you covering your face?” a lady asked. “It is nothing, just don’t mind me and look at our glamorous crafts. Isn’t it beautiful?” Celia replied. “Indeed it is. But how can we trust buying someone’s crafts if we cannot see their faces?” The lady replied. “But the most important thing here is our crafts that were selling isn’t it?” Celia Replied. “Yes it is. But we cannot trust buying your crafts if you’re hiding your face from us.” The lady replied. “Show us your face so that we will not worry buying from you.” said a man.
Celia looked at her father straight to its eyes. Trying to tell him “can we please go now” by just looking at him. Her father immediately know what were Celia’s eyes trying to say and said to the people. “Perhaps some other time, I’ll come back here again”.
When her father and Celia arrived home. Celia immediately go to her room and locked herself. Celia’s father goes straight to his wife and tells her what happened. “I think we should make a way to end her suffering.” Her father said. “Then what should we do?” her mother ask. “Go talk to her. Tell her not to feel different anymore. Tell her its normal there is nothing wrong about it.” Replied her father. “But I already did that before and it didn’t work.” Her mother replied.
Little did they know Celia heard that they are arguing. “NEIGHHH…!!!” They heard the loud sound their horse made as it runs as fast as thunder. “I think she heard us.” Said her father. “What should we do?” her mother asked. “Just let her darling. Let her wonder, think, and find herself.” Said her father. “But what if she’ll not come back?” asked her mother. “She will. I know she will. Have faith on you daughter.” Said her father.
Celia go as far as she can while riding their horse. After a long continuous run. She noticed that their horse is tired. Luckily they get to a place where there are a lot of grasses. While letting the horse feed on grasses and giving it a good rest, Celia noticed a small water falls hiding in the middle of the forest. She got amaze by its dazzling crystal clear water. She took off all of her cloths and then dived in. the water is cold and refreshing. Celia then dip all her body in to feel the waters calmness and think. Without knowing a guy is hiding from the bush is watching her. When Celia is about to finish the guy hides carefully so that Celia won’t notice her.
After Celia wore her cloths and leave. The guy noticed that Celia left her necklace. He grabbed it and tried to give it back to Celia but she did not catch Celia.
While Celia is riding their horse. A thought of her mother comes up to her mind. She then grabbed the necklace her mother gave to her but in her surprise the necklace is gone. She then immediately turned back to find the necklace. While finding the necklace she didn’t notice that she got back to their village already. Couple of men tried to harass her thinking she’s from another village. But when the men’s about to approach her they receive a flying kick from a tall, well-built, handsome man. “It’s the duke’s son” a lady shouted. All the girls immediately go in their direction. Loud shouting from every direction is heard. After getting circled by the villages people the disrespectful group of man swiftly run away. All the girls were rooting for the duke’s son. But only Celia got his attention. Celia thank the duke’s son without looking at his face thinking it will also reject her because her veil got off her face. But the duke’s son held her face up. “It’s Celia and her tiny nose” a lady shouted. “Such lucky ugly women, he got save by the duke’s son” said another women. And all the village people laugh.
Celia, because of shame run to their home. “Run like what you always do, ugly Celia”. The village people then again laugh. The duke look at Celia’s necklace that he is about to give to Celia back. “Such a unique beautiful lady” he murmured.
The lady who put Celia into shame approached the duke’s son thinking it would love to marry her. “She is the most beautiful lady in the village your highness. Take her as your bride.” Said the village people. “Unlike that ugly Celia who’s not worth to be your bride.” Said the lady’s friend. The people all laugh then again. But the duke’s son got angry and shouted “You’re all monsters, how dare you label such beautiful lady ugly.”
After Celia arrived to their house. She immediately ask for forgiveness to her mother and father. Especially to her mother for losing the necklace that is given to her.
Celia while again doing the thing she loved, making furniture’s. Cannot focus on doing it because she is still affected by what the village people said. After so many years she just can’t accept why she is different.
While still trying to amuse herself. A knock on the door distracted the silence. “Does the lady wearing a veil live here?”. Asked the duke’s son. “Yes.” Her mother replied.
Her mother then called Celia. When Celia got there she was surprised that the duke’s son was there. “Why are you here?” she asked. “I was looking for you” replied he. When Celia was about to leave the duke’s son get the necklace from his pocket and showed it to her. “Is this yours?” he asked. “Yes! it’s my necklace” replied she. Then Celia immediately grabbed the necklace from his hand but he move his hand out of Celia’s reach. “You can’t just get it that easily milady.” He said. “You need to marry me.” Celia in shock, slapped the duke’s son thinking it is just making fun of her. “But I’m serious” he said. “How can you afford to marry someone different like me?” the duke’s son then moved closer to her. Wore off her veil and said. “That is why you amongst others is the one I’m going to marry. Because you are different, you’re unique, you’re someone I’m finding for a long time.” Celia burst into tears after hearing those words. Thinking no one would love her. “You’re being different is what makes you, you milady. That is why I love you.” he said. “You’re like a rose in a dessert that is full of succulents.” He added. Celia after a long time smiled for getting a compliment. She then accepted the duke’s son’s invitation of marriage. Never looked down again and never again wore a veil to cover her face. And live a happy life.
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If everyone helps to hold up the sky, then one person does not become tired.
Askhari Johnson Hodari, Lifelines: The Black Book of Proverbs
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Vea Bautista, from HUMSS 12 -- St. Catherine of Alexandria.
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Nove Navarro, from HUMSS 12 -- St. Catherine of Alexandria.
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Hyacinth Palmares, from HUMSS 12 -- St. Catherine of Alexandria.
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Harvey Labiste, from HUMSS 12 -- St. Catherine of Alexandria.
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Katriele Hallazgo, from HUMSS 12 -- St. Catherine of Alexandria.
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