"vocalising" poems
2am talking to you...
The hum of a neon sign, Emitting light so tranquil
Purple Luminescence on your face. The sparkle in your eye, it brings life to all...
The smile in your words In comparison everything so small.
In conversation vocalising the deep within
What can I say, 2am there is no filter Here.
The euphoria so intense
all Existence has so much Distance,
the world fades away...
Quizzed with the words you speak
Everything begins to dull
Everything so quiet and clear
The realisation of how much I hold you dear
I'd hate to think what I'd do
Without you here
May 1, 2021
May 1, 2021 at 8:34 PM UTC
My friend lives
With anemia and a stomach ucler
With the past of an alchoholic father and an abusive brother
With emotionally abusive ex-girlfriends
Who sometimes plays the butler
With a crammed-full-to-the-seams schedule
With a previous eating disorder and cutting
With the mind of a genius
With the heart of a saint
With the hands of an artist
With a bevy of friends, willing and eager to help
With freedom and a job
With with me, Wyatt, Julia, and Tom on the other end of the phone
Waiting for his call for help
But he is so quiet, pushed into a world of silence, dark, and miserable art
He shelters himself from all, and so we hover nearby
Searching for a crack in the walls of his dungeon, but all we find is a window
He holds the key, but does not yet realise it
So we coaxe and console and soothe, vocalising our concerns and aid
Reaching towards him to pull him away, to touch his heart with the
Hope that a gentle caress, a well placed sweet stroke of kindness may
Free him from his torment
But as of yet, we are still trying
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 8:41 PM UTC
i was watching batman (1989) and batman returns (1992)
today, and i couldn't stop layering over birdman (2015)
over both films, it was such a comedy, you knew
that it wasn't a serious engagement
in the role, i just kept picturing
the internal monologue -
the action scenes were already
a gimmick when in the birdman
the explosions start with the critique
of what people actually like to see -
and that critique that the joker
is no more a weird'o than batman
dressed in black leather / spandex -
i just wish heath ledger took a break
from acting, and they did the same
sort of film about the actor behind
the joker, but how would they internalise
the essence of the role: the laughter...
internalising a husky voice can be easily
done when the actor in a different role
can talk easily and speedily without that
haunting husky role of the original part...
but the laughter? it would never work,
which is why jack warned heath
about playing the role... 'son, beware
the laughter.' still, what an enjoyable re-watch,
putting over the birdman nostalgia
over the seriousness of the acting in the
originals, you can actually imagine him
going for a coffee break and taking a ****
when the original screening took place,
the whole: back to reality - it really amplified
the films in a quirky way;
and i still think the joker is the only
doppelgänger that can't be tamed: i'm guessing
because of coulrophobia -
and i could still see remnants of this mythical
doppelgänger on heath in the imaginarium
of dr. parnassus... the clowns are onto you,
you can't steal one of them from
the jammed mini or volkswagen beetle with 20 of them in it,
plus the crying clown, everyone's heard of that
one, they mime laughter, this vocalised doppelgänger
of a clown is cursed -
because unlike actual mimes they don't surd
bewilderment being stuck in a box, or touching
a brick wall obstacle... they surd laughter,
and they share it among themselves in a circus,
vocalising that surd is a curse,
since vocalising an actual mime leaves you
without the actual abstractions,
and from what i heard, brick walls are silent
like graves, unless of course you punch one
or smash a car into one.
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 4:41 PM UTC
The birds in the skies are spreading their truth.
They cover the world, vocalising concerns.
The bird telegraph,flies safe over war zones.
Nearly always the great escape.
They tell of the things they bear witness to.
The birds know the truth.
They tell one another.
Sadly, they can't tell the propaganda machine of the things that they've seen.
As sadly the birds don't talk in human tongues.
I'm sure they know what's going on.
The media dispatch war zone news, the birds know what's happening a whole lot better.
The birds, they never seem to worry as much as you and I.
The birds with unspoken words.
The eyes in the sky.
(c) Livvi
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 6:56 AM UTC
Vocalising truth,
Desperate mythology,
The beauty in sooth.
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 7:27 PM UTC