This video is from a few semesters back, in ou first FTV module with actual production work, so the assignment was to make a short-drama- everything from script to production, editing, bla bla. here's what my group mates nd i came up with:

This one, also another of our FTV assignments- a TV ad for Vollers corsets, was produced not too long ago. lol. Had some fun doin this one, nd hope we pass the darn module!

dead- Laone van Vuuren

A dream
is big
Its beautiful
Its complete
Its comforting

A dream
is fragile
Its strong
Its sweet
Its precious

A dream
is fierce
Its brave
Its alive

it conquers your brain
and resides in your heart.

But what happens
When a dream dies?

Writers' block- Laone van Vuuren

The pages are piling up
A deformed heap in the corner
Half-written poems,
Unfinished sentences
Dead-end stories.

I’m down to the fourth pack of cigs
and the third bottle of whisky is on its way.

Bear in mind,
before I came here,
I was out there.

Listening to birds chirp,
wind on my bald head.
Sun on my skin,
Sand in my feet.

I rummaged through the Masters’ works…
I burnt incense…
Clapped my hands to a drum’s beat…
and danced round the fire in the nude under a full moon

And still… nothing has ‘come’ to me,
No inspiration as yet.

as if it wasn't over- Laone van Vuuren

as if it wasn’t over
i have come back again
i have drummed on your door and bellowed out your name like a wounded bull
i have sung you songs and read you poetry

as if it wasn’t over
i have come to your side
with you to abide

and now when you stand so close
I can only see why I left in the first place

i said to poetry - Alice Walker

I Said to Poetry

I said to Poetry:"I'm finished
with you."
Having to almost die
before some wierd light
comes creeping through
is no fun.
"No thank you, Creation,
no muse need apply.
Im out for good times--
at the very least,
some painless convention."

Poetry laid back
and played dead
until this morning.
I wasn't sad or anything,
only restless.

Poetry said: "You remember
the desert, and how glad you were
that you have an eye
to see it with? You remember
that, if ever so slightly?"
I said: "I didn't hear that.
Besides, it's five o'clock in the a.m.
I'm not getting up
in the dark
to talk to you."

Poetry said: "But think about the time
you saw the moon
over that small canyon
that you liked so much better
than the grand one--and how suprised you were
that the moonlight was green
and you still had
one good eye
to see it with

Think of that!"

"I'll join the church!" I said,
huffily, turning my face to the wall.
"I'll learn how to pray again!"

"Let me ask you," said Poetry.
"When you pray, what do you think
you'll see?"

Poetry had me.

"There's no paper
in this room," I said.
"And that new pen I bought
makes a funny noise."

"Bullshit," said Poetry.
"Bullshit," said I.