All Visitor 's RECords
Audio
- Sorrow Bird (Song)
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So it's been a while, but I'm back. I was going through my favorite hitRECord poet's records and found this wonderful, dark poem about a certain bird. Needless to say I was immediately inspired and decided to sit with it and squeeze out a song. This is the result. I know it's an older poem of hers and she has a lot of incredible new words, but I believe in revivals. Enjoy!
Audio
- Instrumental Theme
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Just a fun-loving instrumental melody with a childish aura.
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The Bodhi tree is everywhere, and there is always time In many season's old raincoats dancing in sun soaked streets palace halls and wet cardboard boxes, In aimless wanderings through Whatever Wilderness, to take a step or two in weathered leather boots that dream of miles. The Bodhi tree is everywhere and there is always time Waiting. At bus stops. In lines. In shopping mall dressing rooms. In dead-of-night private encounters with festive friends on salty, windswept beaches. Whilst packed like cigarettes in trembling subway cars or meeting eyes with strangers in multi-mirrored elevators. Meeting your own thirty reflections away, there is always time. In awakening on foreign beds surrounded by the unfamiliar clutter, amidst the scrambled shoes and under garments. During the storms of hidden pains. On the atolls of gentle memories. In the words of a dictionary and the infinite ways of combining them the creaking ticks of the tumblers in a lock In the silence of mind where words are worthless In barber shops and beauty salons with the old woman who wear their faces like time ravaged rags. The Bodhi tree is everywhere, and there is always time in full lotus position, on yoga mats rolled out like Kali's tongue, on companions' couches with limbs completely conquered by gravity. During morning ritual on Thinker's Throne. In cross-country car seats. In the act or behind the scenes of church pews and temple floors Where you are, right now, In the shade of the Bodhi tree, there is always time to discover for yourself. |
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Murphy's Law By Visitor It had just rained. Murphy looked completely out of place wearing a white tank top, cargo shorts and rubber flip-flops. Like a cat that had just escaped a laundry machine, Murphy was soaking wet. Everyone else on campus seemed to have watched last night's weather report, as most of them were shaking off the water from their umbrellas. Murphy spotted his friend Dudley amidst the crowd of dripping raincoats. "Hey, Duds!," yelled Murphy, his rubber flip-flops squeaking loudly as he approached his friend, causing several heads to turn. Dudley was clad in a sleek navy-blue rain coat and seemed to be distracted by a very uninteresting looking piece of trash on the floor. Actually, he was trying his hardest to pretend that he did not just hear Murphy calling out to him. Through the corner of his eye he saw Murphy's head bobbing up and down in the crowd, getting closer, until finally Murphy was standing right in front of him, out of breath and panting. "Hey, Murphy," said Dudley, eyeing the soaking Murphy up and down. "Didn't you watch the news last night? They said there would be torrential down pour all week." "News?" asked Murphy, punctuating the question with a scoff. "Duds, I haven't watched the news in weeks. No need to. I knew it would rain today." Dudley could not hold in the laughter and chuckled quite loudly at his wet friend. "Murphy, if you knew it would rain today then why the hell do you look like you're going to a volley ball game? Seriously, Murphy, flip-flops?" Murphy shook his head with the air of a man who just got asked by his child what cheese says when it gets its picture taken. "Duds, I knew it was going to rain because I decided to wear this outfit. See, I've recently discovered I have a very special power." Dudley knew Murphy was a strange individual, but the exclamation of special powers was pushing Dudley's limit of patience. "Special power, Murph? What would that be?" he asked. "I can foretell the future," responded Murphy, pausing after the statement to revel in the dramatic effect. Dudley stared at Murphy in utter bewilderment. He knew Murphy well enough to know that he wasn't joking. This is exactly why I pretend not to notice when he's around, thought Dudley. Dudley smiled awkwardly at the students passing by, hoping no one heard what Murphy had just said. Dudley lowered his voice to a whisper. "No, you can't, nobody can, all that jazz about psychic abilities is utter nonsense." Murphy smiled at his friend. "I said nothing of psychic abilities, simply that I can foretell the future." Dudley sighed. "Oh great, explain to me exactly how you do that." At this cue, Murphy suddenly perked up like a little boy given permission to throw mud at passing cars . "Gladly," He said. "It all started when I realized that I was cursed with the worst luck in the world. See, at first it was a horrible hindrance; always just missing the bus, birds pooping on me, I remember one time I was at a baseball game about to catch a record breaking home run ball when this kid's watch reflected the sun at just the right angle and blinded me at the moment I was about to catch it. I squinted and the ball struck me on the bridge of the nose and ricocheted right into that kid's open glove. Terrible luck, I tell you,… yulch!". A bug had just mistaken Murphy's open mouth to be a warm, secluded spot to take a short nap in. "That's definitely some bad luck, Murphy, horrible luck in fact, but I still don't understand how that translates into you being able to foretell the future," said Dudley, studying the fly that was now struggling for air in a puddle of Murphy's saliva. Murphy was silently musing to himself how much fly resembled baked tilapia when he realized Dudley had finished speaking, and continued his explanation. "You see, after years of all this horrible stuff happening to me I realized something very important. When ever I'm expecting something, what actually ends up happening is the exact opposite of what I'm expecting. I'm expecting a sunny day at the beach, I step outside and it’s pouring rain. I'm expecting to do great on a math test, and the test ends up being on another chapter other than the one I studied; even at that baseball game, I was dead sure I was about to catch that ball, it was inches away from me and it ended up in the hands of the kid with the watch. Don't you see? I can foretell the future by expecting the exact opposite of what I'm expecting to happen!" At this, Dudley slapped his forehead hard enough to scare a small flock of pigeons that were roosting in a nearby tree into flight. "Oh…my. You've completely lost it! How can you be expecting two things to happen simultaneously? That's logically impossible!" Dudley was growing exceedingly frustrated with Murphy. What was frustrating Dudley the most though, was the soothing, guru-like, self assured tone in Murphy's voice. Murphy continued his explanation in the manner of a heavily opiated bard. "No, no, its not so far fetched. Haven't you ever heard the saying 'hope for the best but expect the worst'? I think that was made by someone with my kind of powers. See, if I want to foretell the future, all I have to do is want something. Say, I want the Miami Heat to win the NBA championship. By wanting that, I know they're in fact going to lose so I place a bet on them losing, but secretly I really want them to win. The subtle trick to this is that your wanting has to be balanced with what you don't want. For instance, I really do want the Heat to win the championship, however, by placing a bet on them losing, I actually want them to lose-- but if they win, I won't be disappointed in the fact that I lost that money because they still won! And if they lose, I get the money! See?! It's a win-win situation!" Dudley slapped his forehead again, which was beginning to turn a light shade of magenta. "You're full of it, Murphy," he said, rubbing the welt that was beginning to form. At this, Murphy grinned a grin that would suit an impish lawn gnome. "I knew you'd say that! See how hard I tried to explain it to you? I really wanted you to believe me, but you ended up not believing me, which is exactly what I knew would happen!" Dudley realized that the voice of reason in Murphy's head was undoubtably out having cocktails with its friends, logic and sanity. "Ugh, Murphy, I have no time for this nonsense, I have to go study for a math test, and I do know what chapter its on because I paid attention in class. No psychic hocus-pocus needed. I'll see you later," he said, finally giving up on trying to talk sense into his delusional, waterlogged buddy. "Yeah, ok, I'll see you later too, Duds." said Murphy. He too had grown tired of explaining the subtleties of his new-found mystical powers to his unbelieving friend. Frustrated at the fact that Dudley didn't believe him, but further satisfied at the accuracy of his own fortune telling, Murphy walked away feeling a bit confused. Then a horrible thought struck him. He had told Dudley "I'll see you later". He in fact did hope to see Dudley later, but now he knew that because of his fortune telling bad luck he would never see Dudley later. In a desperate attempt to fight destiny, Murphy turned right back around and ran sprinting towards Dudley to see if he could escape his fate and see him again. Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak…flop! He wasn't expecting there to be a rock on the floor and tripped on it. On his way down he was bracing himself for the inevitable impact of his body on the concrete. A millisecond before hitting the ground, however, a miraculous thing happened: the impact never came. Murphy opened his eyes to find himself soaring like a bird above the campus. Expecting to hit the ground after tripping, Murphy's bad luck fortune telling kicked in and the last thing he expected, the exact opposite of falling, is exactly what happened. Murphy zoomed off into the horizon and was never seen by Dudley, or anyone, ever again. The End. |
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Audio
- The Bubblification of Voices
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Every night, at midnight on the minute, a messenger pigeon would visit Lissette to deliver a beautifully written love letter. Every night, Lissette pondered on the identity of this eloquent yet anonymous Romeo who'd captured her heart through words. Every night, the pigeon cried himself to sleep wondering why his love for Lissette was never returned. |
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I'll make these words work I just need three more sillbulls ha ha, I cheated |
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