Malabra's Lament

February 15th is not one of the easiest days in the year.  The day after the dreaded "Valentine's Day", and bitterly cold if you happen to be in New England.  Bah.  Bah I say.  Ahh well.  Prophetic words are rarely thought on such a cold and blustery day.  Or perhaps that's just another excuse. 
We writers have infinite excuses not to write. 

Here's a bit of something.

Let me introduce my dear friend, Malabra. 

She dearly loves a glass of wine. 



In this short puppet play, Malabra converses with her friend Annibelle.  

For Whom the Belle Tolls, Malabra’s lament. 

            (Malabra is alone onstage sighing into the void.  Annibelle rushes on.)

Annibelle

I had some words to say to you.  They were happy.  Now they’re gone.

Malabra

One can’t be more than 50 miles from the ocean.

Annibelle

They say you change every seven years.  Do you think that’s true Malabra?  Twenty, Twenty-Seven. 

Malabra

I think we expect too much of other people, Annibelle.

Annibelle

(Burst of energy.) I want sunshine and flowers and grand opening nights with gorgeous outfits.

Malabra

The hue of the sky is important.  I seem to have mostly cloudy days. 

Annibelle

Malabra, really? 

Malabra

 What words were they? The happy ones?

Annibelle

I told you, I’ve forgotten. 

(Pause)

Malabra

We, fallible creatures, fall in love again and again hoping for a new completeness that we didn’t have before.  It fragments out into dinners, hugs, kisses, sighs, tears, frustration.  The bits are visable now and you look for the next moment where you’ll be safe.  But there’s only that moment, pushed up against a whole lot of other moments. 

Annibelle

So this is what we get -what’s available-pills for incontinence, cups of coffee with friends, walks down litter strewn streets, (melodrama) hope in the eyes of a child.

Malabra

(cuts off A) But no answer.  No completeness, who told us this lie?  I think it was those that find their answers in the intangible, in the lie of the ages, in faith.  Where’s the completeness for the rest?  The ones who perceive that there is nothing…feel only the energy. The sadness in living. 

            (Annibelle is setting up her pills)

Annibelle

Fe, Fi Fo Fum

Malabra

Annibelle!

Annibelle

I smell the blood of a…

Malabra

(abrupt) You asked a question?  Every 7 years.  If it’s every seven years, then why say 20, 27, not 21, 28, do 7 and 14 not count?

Annibelle

Well I don’t know.   Someone said to me, “you are in for big things this year, 27 that’s when things happen.  Every 7 years you know.”  So I was just thinking of it in those terms, but no matter, 27, 28.  What do you think?

Malabra

I’ve been trying to say, to divulge the answer from my breast.  (dramatic)

Annibelle

But have you?  (reality)

Malabra

I suppose not. (reality, acceptance)

Annibelle

Well, I say it sounds likely, seems possible. We shed our skin. Why not?  Believing in one thing is just as important as believing in an other or… (She trails off having lost the thread.)

Malabra

(Biblical, preacher style.) Slashed into the world we are left piece by piece by the mouth of god to be devoured.

            (Annibelle is startled back into reality.)

Annibelle

Piece by piece. (physicalizes the pieces.)

Malabra

Piece by piece. 

Annibelle

Devoured.

Malabra

Yes, devoured Annibelle.  (Turns vaccume back on) Now stop messing with my dramatic moment!

Annibelle

Aren’t they all dramatic with you, Ma-la-bra? 

Malabra

I relish the moment before a breakup when it feels, that pure feeling right before you say the words you’re not actually sure you mean. 

Annibelle

Dra-ma.

Malabra

Exhilarating.

Annibelle

I want it easier. 

Malabra

What’s that dear.

Annibelle

I want it easier.  All of it.  I want things to come easier. 

Malabra

Well don’t we all?

Annibelle

I think I’m better than the world that I’m in.  I think I should just be able to get anything I want right away, no questions asked, I want to have it all without any limitations.

Malabra

Well who wouldn’t, who doesn’t?  Are we really unique?

Annibelle

I need money!!

Malabra

Well who wouldn’t, who doesn’t?  Are we really unique?

Annibelle

The thoughts.  The means that I have to obtain money are limited.  I want it easier.

I want it all.  I want to travel.  I want to live in a way that is just not possible.

I want to be in one place but go to all places.  I want to hope and dream and not be frustrated.  Foi Graus!  I want more.

Malabra

I find it far too difficult to remain in my present situation, condition.  Have you remembered the words, the happy words?

Annibelle

I want to eat but I don’t want to get fat.  I want lasagna but I don’t want to make it. 

Malabra

I love him.  How much does that matter.

Annibelle

I want to live on a farm.  I want to live by the sea.  I want to go to the city and not feel inferior. 

Malabra

When you look into his eyes and see the whole world of hazel, then a blink and a black hole of feeling, sucked back down into the reality ‘of this will be gone’ as if the comfort you seek might be found in a pair of baby blues or amber browns. 

Annibelle

(massive) ****I want to eat a pig.***

Malabra

Do we not have capacity to love infinitely? 

Annibelle

I want to be smart and I want others to know it.

            (beat, look to Annibelle)

Malabra

I know it. 

Annibelle

I want to lie on the grass, on the sand and smile at the warmth it exudes.

Malabra

If we exude warmth, exude love in all directions to all people does it diminish ourselves faster than if we focus on one person?  Is that why we choose to be monogamous?  What of the notion of loving many different people, accepting that we have that capacity, it’s bound to get complicated, keeping up with all those…

Annibelle

(cut off) I want to swim in the ocean everyday.

Malabra

Anni do you remember when I tried that, do you remember let’s see, I think there were four men total at the point, two were further away, one in the city, one out in the country, two close to home, they knew each other even, although one of those two was moving far away shortly.  I found it all very confusing.  Each had his individual wonderful points and drawbacks, cared for each one, but had a little trouble keeping up, remembering who had called about what, and whom I was meeting later and all of that.  Polyamory they call it.  A bit of a mess I call it.  Perhaps all of that was just the realization that none of them were right for me.  If I could take bits from each, the brains, the charm, the warmth of personality, the risk, the youth, the talent…

Annibelle

Seemed like gluttony to me.  All those good-looking men to yourself.  Not a one of those relationships worked out either, what a waste.  I myself liked the one with the long hair, you should have left with that one.  Moved away with him, he was the nicest, the tastiest.

Malabra

He had many women, one in New York, one down in Santa Fe, probably more I didn’t know about. Perhaps, the more you love the more you feel loved and the more you can give back and all of that. 

Annibelle

Yes, yes, peace, love and hippies.  I need to make some cash. Contemplating love isn’t going to help me.  What I want.  What I need is to be rich.  My main problem is that no one ever taught me how to make money.  I mean I can manage to get a job, but for peanuts  I work my ass off doing these menial jobs, these human service, service industry, non-profit bullshits that help people, make people happy, promote good will or serve them coffee.   Either way it ain’t where the money is.  I’ve got to figure it out and fast cause I’m not gonna struggle like I have been, oh no not me. 

Malabra

Well, your painting.

Annibelle

My painting, Piss!  You know how hard it is to make any money as a painter? It’s a god damn privilege to have the time to paint.

Malabra

Perhaps you should get another degree in something or other? 

Annibelle

I’ve got degrees coming out of my ears, little good it does me.------There will be a day when I shall accept, no, resign myself to being poor.  I will accept the fact that living a noble life means being a broke ass motherfucker. 

Malabra

We need to simplify. 

Annibelle

Yes simplify.  Get rid of jobs!

Malabra

Get rid of men!

Annibelle

Get rid of money and drugs and sex and love and life.

Malabra

That might be a little too simple.

Annibelle

Live in grass huts and sing songs and dance.

Malabra

Dispose of the trappings of modern life. 

Annibelle

Good bye internet, television, modern medicine, toilet paper.

Malabra

Being simple is going to be difficult.

There are the prophetic words I was looking for.  Malabra always knows.  "Being Simple is going to be difficult."  

  For Whom the Belle Tolls, Malabra’s Lament, was performed at Perishable Theatre's Blood from a Turnip in September of 2009 by myself and the lovely Willa Van Nostrand in Providene, RI.  

Perishable Theatre, Home of Blood from a Turnip