Naomi Evanss self-published work

A collection of undergraduate poems, prose and script

2016 Naomi Evans. All rights reserved.

ISBN 978-1-326-74408-3

Galaxies
Naomi Evans
2

Beauty from Pain

We had been painful but passionate;
A strong, exhausting euphoria that made my eyes
Well up with tears and my heart weakly flutter.
Negative in tone, we had the underlying
Feeling of hope that inspired us to continue down
The broken road that would lead to nowhere.
Your cruel words inspired my beauty from pain
And as the summer nights grew longer
I became the sunshine and you became the rain;
And we clashed together like a hurricane, a storm
Swirling out of all control until I could
Take it no more, no longer lost in despair.
The art of strength dragged me through the inner
Limbo that I had been held captive in and
I realised things werent as dim as theyd been before.
But that was me and I still wish I could
Have helped you through the darkness too
Yet your feet stayed rooted, tying you down.
I had to fly, no longer enchained, but no matter
How much I tugged you wouldnt budge
And the choking paralysis smothered me too;
And I admit that it was I who let our relationship
Die as I nursed my battered wings
That had been clipped by you.
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I felt like I could move mountains

Yet you couldnt even move your own two feet
So selfishly I let you drown as I took to the sky.
I wish I knew why you had been so hateful;
We were both suffering the same way,
Romanced by our sadness instead of each other.
But now I have risen above and have discovered inner love
And recovery is just the start of feeling invincible,
Where nothing is unbeatable or unachievable;
And even though you are still a black cloud, showering
Down on everyone with your rain, I hope that one day
You too will be able to find beauty from pain.

The Silhouette
The silhouette was tall but the
Stance was feminine, a forced curve
Of the hips and an outstretched arm
Reflected confidence onto the wall.
The hem of a dress swayed and
Long ringlets were flicked in jest
As the wearer struck a pose.
A flash flickered in the dim room
Before the shadow began to disrobe.
The act was done and all was left
Was the dress on the floor
In a mess, along with the wearer,
Who had yearned to mirror the
Silhouette on the wall for far too long.
The wig came off and was dropped
To the ground and the form looked
Down, believing himself to be wrong.

Until We Are Free

I am who I am, this is me;
Someone
I tried to smother and
Was ashamed to be because
My parents were not fully accepting yet
Not completely against it,
Still ensnared by outdated ideals.
I have their blessing now but
It still burns when they avert their eyes, believing
Im kissing the Devils horns.
There are laws that promise protection yet
There is still hate and
Kissing angels on the stairway to heaven
Leaves a bitter taste when I think how
Our generation has it better when compared
To Wilde
And Turing.
I have escaped those prejudices
But
Making love can still feel poisonous
Even if
I marry in the name of the Lord.
Diversity is represented in society more
In contrast to the purgatory of the past and
Despite some lasting rejection
Most see it as they should,
That it is good and
Not a sin
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As they once believed it to be.

I am who I am and
This is me;
One day we will all be equal and
I cant wait to be free.

Numb
My veins sting, imagining the venom in hers;
Her body burned and blown to the wind like
Scratch card nubs from being rubbed and
Black fingerprints, tainted from the papers.
The bittersweet; the good, the bad,
The money in trade for the love I had.
The cost of being sad, a cutting caper.
My smile wavers, twisting in relief.
Or is it twisting in remorse?
My heart, a sack of rocks on the
Bathroom floor, her absence haunting.
The body bag writhes in my dreams,
A strong reminded that shes gone;
A scream in the night at 2am
I didnt hear, a ghostly taunting.
At least I said I love you,
Even if I hadnt meant it much.
My throat stings from swallowing ice
Like glass, wishing I didnt feel so numb;
So unalive inside like Ive died myself.
The final kiss to your lips
Felt like a goodbye I should have
Said before you closed your eyes.
I havent cried and I doubt I will,
You were a burden I cared for and
Wanted to help kill out of mercy;
But the law doesnt change for one.
8

The pain, the agony in your face,

Your balding scalp and the way
You called my name makes me glad
You didnt suffer for long.

Read more poetry by purchasing Galaxies at Lulu.com

Sonder
Big issue, anyone? Big issue!? I waved the magazine around,
raising my voice and flailing my arms in the air. I cringed as a
group of girls walked by and started giggling at my distress. I was
making a fool of myself, but I didnt care. Anyone want this
fucking piece of shit magazine? Theres fuck all in it ladies! I
called after them. The September sun bore down and it was doing
nothing to help my ebbing mood. I was overheated, dehydrated and
the smell of fast food that tainted the air was making my starving
stomach turn. The bustling high street should have made me feel
claustrophobic, but people swarmed out onto the road in an attempt
to walk around me, like ants avoiding poison. Id been rooted to the
same spot for hours and not one person had bought a single
magazine. Shouting, I threw the pile to the floor in the middle of
the pavement and stormed over to the side, wiping my brow and
taking refuge in the shade. I slumped, hitting my back against a
shop wall and tried to recall what Id done to get myself into such a
sorry state.
Losing my house hadnt really been my fault. I hadnt expected
redundancy or not being able to pay my mortgage. I hadnt
expected bailiffs at my door first thing in the morning or being
forced out of my home. I hadnt expected having nowhere else to
go. It could have happened to anyone. So here I was, abandoned on
the streets with no help or advice. Charities had told me that selling
magazines would help me to take control of my life and earn a
legitimate income and Id been trying to do that for weeks. Each
day was the same and it had helped me to earn fuck all. I was no
better off doing this than I was begging. I picked my coffee cup up
from where Id left it on the ground and hoped that someone would
take pity on me and give me some money.
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The streets were beginning to clear, shops were beginning

to close and I rattled the small amount of change in my cup for
what must have been the hundredth time. Through the crowd I
saw an Asian boy make his way over to my side of the street.
His white shirt was ripped and dirty. He hugged his own cup and
quietly sat down to my left, a few meters away. I gave him a
little wave and a sympathetic smile. Hi. My voice came out
gravelly and I tried to swallow to clear my parched throat. I
tugged my cap down over my head, trying to use the peak to
cover my face. I wiped at my eyes and stared at the ground, not
wanting the boy to see how hopeless I felt.
It was strange. An hour passed and I didnt feel invisible
anymore, just rejected. Passers-by would ignore me, yet reach
for their money when they saw the kid. Some pulled him into
embraces. I heard many words of kindness telling him to stay
strong. I rattled the change in my cup loudly, trying to draw
attention to myself.

Read more of Sonder and an additional short story by

purchasing Galaxies at Lulu.com

11

Ashes to Ashes
A Stage Play by Naomi Evans
Warning: Some expletives
Cast List
PAUL, aged 32. A drug addict.
ANDREA, aged 28. Mother of two.
DRUG DEALER, aged 35.
SOLICITOR, aged 46.
DOCTOR, aged 56
BAILIFF 1.
BAILIFF 2.
DEALING HENCHMAN 1.
DEALING HENCHMAN 2.
MOURNER 1.
MOURNER 2.
MOURNER 3.
MOURNER 4.
The mourners can be played by any of the
actors who have time to change. You cannot
see them clearly as they are hooded.

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Stage Setting
A proscenium arch stage. There are walls at
the edges of the stage and they are decorated
to give a homely feeling. There are three
exits: To the SL and SR and also to the USC.
These are decorated as large doors. The stage
is used as a split stage for different
locations.
There is a sofa and a coffee table to the SR.
On the coffee table there are a few dirty
plates, knives and forks and an almost empty
clear jam jar. There is another small table
with a lamp to the right of the sofa. Also to
the DSR, near the stage wall is a small
television at an angle facing the sofa. To
the left of the sofa is a cabinet that has
family photographs on top of it. There is a
large one of an OLD WOMAN facing the
audience.
To the SL there is a desk facing the audience
vertically. On the right hand side of it are
two chairs. On the left side of it is a comfy
computer chair.
There are stairs CS that lead to the USC,
which is a raised platform. On the USC there
is a bed facing vertical to the audience with
two chairs either side it.

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In each area of the stage (SR, SL, USC, DSC)

there is one bulb or one spotlight for
lighting.

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Scene 1

Andreas Living Room

Inside
a
living
room.
LIGHTS
ON.
One
spotlight SR. PAUL and ANDREA are sat on a
sofa SR. PAULS posture is relaxed but ANDREA
is tense. PAUL is smoking and keeps tapping
his cigarette ashes into a jam jar. There is
a long silence.
PAUL:

So did you find out yet?

ANDREA:

(looks at him seriously) fifty

thousand.

PAUL:

(blows out a held breath and

grins) Fifty-thousand? Each?

ANDREA:

Thats what she said.

(PAUL Pauses before he chuckles and leans

forward. He taps the cigarette ashes into the
jar.)
PAUL:

It wont be long you know? Cant

come quick enough if you ask me.

ANDREA:

(scowls and crosses arms) Its not

funny to talk that way Paul-

PAUL:

But it is! (beat) If you ask me

well have her ashes back from
the crem before this jar is full.
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ANDREA:

(stands and gestures at the jar)

And thats sick. I care for Nana
every day! You cant just talk
about her like that!

PAUL:

(rolls eyes) Shes suffering.

Its better for her to be dead.
Isnt it? Everyone is acting like
its such a bad fucking thing. If
shes dead she wont feel
nothing. She wont be sad (beat)
she definitely wont be a burden
(slowly grins) and that way I get
a lot of money.

ANDREA:

I dont know how you can keep

facing her, pretending you care.
You only care about yourself,
Paul (shakes head) and one day,
when shes gone, youre going to
regret thinking like this.

PAUL:

(laughs) Dont tell me youre not

interested in the money? Would
help with your debt wouldnt it?
Wouldnt have to sell the house.
If you ask me this is a godsend
to both of us.

(There is a long silence in the room. ANDREA

puts her head in her hands and rubs at her
temples.)
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ANDREA:

The doctors said there is a

chance she could recover. Until
then neither of us should be
thinking about inheritance.

PAUL:

(snorts) Hah! Like hell is she

going to recover? She can barely
get out of bed!

ANDREA:

Dont you want her to? (looks at

him) Mum and dad would have been
ashamed of you.

PAUL:

(laughs) See? Thats the beauty

of it, isnt it? Since theyre
dead it doesnt matter what they
would have thought. It doesnt
matter what I do. (raises voice)
I could do anything and they
wouldnt care because theyre
fucking dead.

ANDREA:

(frowns at him) Then do whatever

you want Paul. You dont care and
I cant make you. Just dont let
her hear you talking this way.
Its the last thing she needs.

PAUL:

Dont worry. Ill be her kind,

loving grandson that can do no
wrong. It doesnt matter either
way though (beat) because mark my
words.
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(PAUL taps cigarette ash into the jar and

picks it up to look at it. He holds it up to
the light as though he is studying it
intensely.)
PAUL:
LIGHTS OUT.

18

Shell be dead by the end of the

year.

Scene 2

The Drug Deal

LIGHTS ON. One spotlight DSC. PAUL is stood

DSC. Another man, a DRUG DEALER enters SL and
also walks to DSC. They look at each other
warily.
PAUL:

So have you got what I asked for?

DEALER:

Yeah. This is a lot more than ya

usually buy though, isnt it? And
more expensive.

PAUL:

(long pause and tries to hide a

smile) Lets just say very soon
Im gonna have a lot more money
to blow.

(There is a long pause between them and PAUL

looks shiftily between the DRUG DEALER and
the audience.)
PAUL:

Remember my rich grandma I told

everyone about at the party last
month? Well guess who is about to
croak.

DEALER:

(raises eyebrows)
Congratulations. So shes given
ya the money early?

PAUL:

Nah not yet, unfortunately.

19

DEALER:

Well thats no good to me, is it?

I need the money now, Paul.

PAUL:

Well I cant give it to you quite

this second. I actually need the
drugs to (pause) kick-start
everything. But you know I always
pay you back. I was thinking you
could give it me on loan.

DEALER:

(laughs) On loan! I hope ya

realise this totals into the
thousands! Its not our usual
kind of favour, is it mate?

PAUL:

I know. Ill pay you back and

with a bit more too. Make it
worth your while. Youre helping
me out here, remember?

DEALER:

(sighs) youre a good customer.

Never let me down yet, have ya?
But if ya do.

(The DEALER takes a few bags out of the

pocket of his coat. They are filled with
different kinds of illegal substances. He
hands them to PAUL and then gives him a stern
look.)
DEALER:

20

Well you know what happens to

people who let me down, dont ya?

PAUL:

Yeah. Thanks man.

DEALER:

Thats half. Ill give ya the

rest after I see some notes.
(exits SL)

(PAUL holds the bags up to the spotlight and

stares at them for a few moments. He grins
and whistles.)
LIGHTS OUT.

Read more of Ashes to Ashes and an additional script by

purchasing Galaxies at Lulu.com

21

KittyontheBridge.com is home to creative writer and pop culture

journalist Naomi Evans.
Embracing her passion, Naomi writes about film, television,
novels, video games, anime, comic books and theatre for
journalism projects. In her spare time Naomi also enjoys writing
her own fiction, poetry and script for theatre.
Naomi has studied various subjects at university level including
creative writing, English language and literature, history,
anthropology, philosophy, classical studies, religious studies and
business studies. She has a devotion to study and believes that
learning should be continual throughout all stages of life.
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