Under The Mallee Bough

  “Poor Cocky”. “Poor Cocky”. A one act, one set play. Characters.: George : Aged, local Cocky (farmer). Gary (Gazza)..Also aged, Another local farmer. Jamie (Jim)…Youth, around fifteen years old. Scene..: Inside a shearing shed, empty except for Gary and Jamie positioned at a wool-skirting table…there is the usual paraphernalia of a shearing shed scattered around..the scene is dark and gloomy, save for small shafts of sunlight spotted through nail-holes etc in the roof. Gary has a rifle in parts on a canvas sheet on the table..Jamie sits on the table watching Gary clean and reassemble the rifle. The door of the shearing shed clatters and grates open..A short, stocky farmer stands framed in the doorway..Gary and Jamie turn to stare at the man in the doorway… George : “Gazza!” Gary : “ Ah..it’s you George..come in come in..” George steps into the shed, nailholes of sunlight glitter the raised dust particles and bead ...

  True..Too true. It’s true, And it’s real, It’s tragic, And it’s a very sad ideal. . . That you have destroyed our fantasies, Betrayed our sweet, imagined, seraphic vulgarities, And replaced them all with your own confected, so-called reality… That offers us nothing but desecrated, emotional negativity. It’s true, And it’s real, What you offer for what you steal, Is of lower value than beggar’s gruel, What measure of a celestial king’s ransom, Could replace dreams we create for our heart’s enhancement? We rue, And we construe, Life’s reality which is so raw it hurts to embrace, And of those experiences so cruel we daydream to replace, With a more pleasant fantasy, a more delightful entrance, Of course we know it is but a reverie, a lover’s fanse. So.. Let it be true, Let it be real, Better than your filth, Better than your misconstrues,  Those lies you peddl...

  Sacred Site. An Indigenous woomera. A one act, one set play. Characters : Antonio..Male, around sixty five years old. Bob..A Catholic priest. Francesco..Older brother of Antino. Scene : A camp site in the outback. There is a silhouette outline of a four wheel drive car…a camp fire and the trappings of an overnight stay…The two men are to one side of the stage looking at an object that Antonio is showing to Bob. Antonio : “Come on over here, Bob..I want you to see something against that tree.” (Antonio steps away to the far left of the stage, he stands with his hands in his pockets but with thumbs outside..Bob moves over to join him and they both stand gazing at a twisted, dead tree.) Bob : “ So what am I looking for?” Antonio : “See there?” Bob : “What?” Antonio : “There at the base in that small cleft.” (At first Bob doesn’t see anything unusual, but then a soft focused spotlight illuminates the spot an...

  Beautiful Dreamer. A one act, one set play Characters: Narrator. A Mother..she has no name like all the characters in this play, they are and remain anonymous. A young son..the mother is trying to get him to go to sleep. A grown but still young man refugee. Two security men in uniform. Scene..(opening) stage is in very low light…a spotlight falls upon the narrator who tells the theme of the story. Then when the narrator finishes talking, one half of the stage lights up to see the mother and child in a bedroom scene in a small room. (second) on another part of the same stage later, we see the security men sitting at a table interviewing the young male refugee.. Narrator : “What can it be that “anchors” a refugee to their personal situation and can give them the strength to persevere but a cultural / familial reflection back to happier times in their own country with their own family. As to how far back that memory must go w...

  A Trivial Enquiry. A play of one act, one set. A Melbourne story. Characters..: Peter Haffney..; mid fifties, portly build, congenial nature. Stephanie..; Peter’s wife…sardonic in an amusing way..more observant than participant. Scene..Kitchen of a working-class suburban house..minimal decorations..more efficient than cluttered with ornaments.The dialogue in this play is of the main character (Peter) talking calmly and confidingly in a one-on-one relaxed manner to the audience as if they were a trusted friend in the room with him. (Peter Haffney takes his latch-key from the deadlock and closes the front door behind him. He pauses inside the entrance as one is want to do when first coming home and looks about.  reassuring himself that everything was as when he left it that morning. An air of suburban mustiness pervades the house and the dreary silence echos the polished rustle of his suit. He then proceeds to the kitchen pan...