disembodied stack exchange

Last night I read a poem—or more like stood there—at a cozy little get together with some friends.

Some people choose to read, some sing, play guitar, it all goes.  There are jokes.

I tried something new, which was to share a private act, in a public space, and see what that turns like.

It was cool.

I had a recording on my phone of a poem I recited in the bath about a week ago. I wanted to catch it before it left, with no pen.

It was meant for my ears only and transcription, but it got so much more.

The treatment.  To stand in a room and hold up a device that holds my voice, naked, small,

vulnerable and rhythmic.

I pressed the button and let if play with my hand lifted and let my body naturally position where it may.

Turns out I cried a little bc it was kinda like it was me twice and I could hear the sensitivity in some of the notes.  The poem was a little freestyle and rhythmic and interspersed clusters of climate change language (bc that was the book i was reading in the tub ha) along with the repetition of a black bird.

More specifically it was an fusion of that portion of Forest Gump when the little girl says, “Dear God make me a bird….” except this one said Dear god make me a bird, a black bird, black–

as a refrain and went from there.  I’ll probably go ahead and transcribe it later.

I wanted to place the audio here, but I listened to it from the computer last night and it just doesn’t work the same.

It was something about standing there in a room full of people, holding my own voice, that made it work for whatever reason.

I ended up making a video last night to add the voice, but it just didn’t sound right so I changed the sound.  This is what I got and idk.  Whatevs.  I like the slow birds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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6 thoughts on “disembodied stack exchange

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