I get to showcase two incredibly talented people today. Lizzi with Considerings and Samara with SamaraSpeaks. Samara is showcased in this post in a round-a-bout way but I am crossing my fingers that one day she will write something for this blog directly. However, in the meantime you will see a glimpse of her as Lizzi has written a beautiful post about the power of inspiration.
When Lizzi writes her words are living characters that take shape and form real acrobatic expressions on a page. If you have texted with her then you know what I mean.
BUT she also has an amazing speaking voice, not just because she has an English accent but because it is soothing and gentle. I imagine Mother Goose sounding just like Lizzi…reading all the children in the world into a peaceful dream filled slumber. Many times just hearing her voice will cut through any anxiety I might have had.
Please leave her some encouraging comments because I had to beg her to do this for me….
Introducing Lizzi and her voice 🙂
LET ME FEED YOU SPOKEN WORD by Lizzi
“Write something for me. Anything you want. And make it beautiful.”
When such an instruction is issued by someone who is as wonderful a friend and wholly as delightful a human being as Hasty, there is really only one response – “Yes ma’am!”
I’ve been featured here before, which is wonderful. Hasty and I have written several duets (as always, I would love to write one more with her) and she has been generous enough to reblog two of my posts (a deep thrill each time, because it’s such an honour that anyone thinks highly enough of my writing to give their site over to it entirely), but now I am so excited to be featured here on purpose, by request, to entertain you.
I hope I don’t let you down!
Since entering the Blogosphere a little over two years ago, I discovered, in small corners of the internet, performances of Spoken Word poetry. I wasn’t keen on them – they seemed too earnest, too frantic and too desperate to make me BELIEVE in their message, that their tone got caught up in all the anxiety and became intolerable; filled with gasps for breath and tumbling sibilants – until quite recently.
What happened was that Samara (who used to DO Spoken Word) messaged me about a piece she wanted to share at Sisterwives. She wanted my feedback on it, and my heart sank, anticipating the same style as I’d experienced elsewhere. Sadly (because I adore her and didn’t want to have to give her the negative feedback my integrity would compel me to impart) I said yes, and clicked the link.
I began to listen, with my expectations set firmly to ‘low’.
It. Blew. My. Mind.
Samara’s performance poured into my ears like wine, intoxicating me. It was playful, captivating, sexy, magnetic and just about the most fun I think anyone could have with headphones on. Her voice danced, strutted, teased, and imparted the story of her childhood, just for me to hear.
I melted for it, and by the time the piece had ended, I was almost purring. I gave my feedback in excited, ALL CAPS superlatives, and promptly listened to the poem another four times in a row. Each time I grew more aware of the fact that on a visceral level, the response I was experiencing was a strong desire to lick her brain (don’t ask!).
To say I was inspired would be an understatement – I had NO idea that Spoken Word could be like this. But I was scared and it took the reassurance of Hasty and others (including, eventually, Samara, once I’d plucked up courage to share my paltry first attempt with such a master of the art) before I felt ‘in a place’ to share it with The Blogosphere at large.
Writing it was the easy part (after all, I *do* po an –em from time to time) but performing it was nerve-wracking and recording it was a nightmare, HOWEVER, buoyed by the memory of the intimacy and entertainment of Samara’s piece, I decided to try playing a little with my listeners…in my very best (adorable) English accent.
Give it a try… 😉
I began with little concept of Spoken Word.
I thought it was story, like poetry;
A way to get you to listen to what I want heard.
But I was wrong,
My assessments way off-base
And quite beside the point
Because all along, the reason for this
Right here. Right now.
And I don’t care who else listens to this
Or tries to tell me otherwise;
For the remainder of the time I have your ear
Are my world:
The centre of my universe,
As though every step on every path I took
Brought me to this point…
…so what is it?
Your experience, laid in my hands
Naïve, untutored and as yet unable to understand
The things I’m going to do
You might think it’s only talking, but it’s so much more
It’s waltzing with your neurones on the dancefloor of your mind.
And quite frankly if you don’t think it’s amazing
I challenge you to find something better
But to be honest, what do you even KNOW?
Sat there behind your screen
How DARE you criticise – you charlatan!
Pretending to own such wisdom
As though you were better than me!
And just like that, we change places,
For a charlatan is all I am.
You busted me – you win.
It’s all a crazy circus ride, come in and take a spin;
Turn your eyes to the lights and sawdust
See the tumbling phrases scale the heights and plummet
Their one aim to make you catch your breath in wonder –
To keep you entertained.
Oh sweetheart, it’s okay.
Stay and watch the tearful, smiling clowns
And laugh at the jokes they play
As they drag from the centre of your mind
That melancholy thread of self-doubt
And begin to wind it around and around
Drawing failures from your like knotted scarves
And putting them on show, for fucksake, STOP them
Or everyone will know your very worst secrets!
Make it stop, make it stop, cos you can never trust a clown
Don’t trust, don’t trust them, don’t trust them ever
Ever, because they’re always around and waiting for you to fall
And we. WILL. See…
Come back with me
And shelter under the table of my mind –
Find your happy place
Where trees stretch out their branches,
The ocean breathes and washes the shore
And the sun always shines…
Let yourself relax – you’re safe
And I can guarantee no verbal attacks
So don’t give in – don’t fear – just trust me…
Because like I said, it’s all about YOU
And the way these plain old words
Can make you FEEL –
Angry, anxious, chilled – whatever the deal
The thing which blows my mind
Is that all of it began as marks on page
As thoughts became physical rhymes.
And believe me, baby, I’m only here for you –
There’s nothing else right now that I’d rather do
Than lift my cup of scented thoughts
And have you drink them in;
Let them pour over you like golden syrup
Let them shimmer and drench your skin.
Let me use long strings of words
Like knotted French silk stretched taut against your limbs,
And BELIEVE ME,
I’m going to use every. last. syllable
To rub the meaning in…
…do I win?
Ohhhhh…and there we go!
You gave me your mind
Never knowing what unexpected things were in store
In this meta-game, where my brain just led yours
On a merry dance – and now it’s over
Are you glad?
Was it weird?
Would you tell a friend
To take the chance and see
What kind of thing or think or feel they heard
When they opened up
And let me feed them
Lizzi is a Deep Thinker, Truth-Teller and seeker of Good Things. She’s also silly, irreverent and tries to write as beautifully as possible.
She’s living Life in Silver Linings and *twinklysparklygoodness* because two miscarriages and a subsequent diagnosis of spousal infertility will rather upset anyone’s applecart. She borrows other people’s children to love in the meantime.