My Poem “The Microphone”

Everyone’s voice is distinctive…
everyone’s voice can be poetic…
everyone’s voice is informative…
everyone’s voice is a gift that can
open doors and change minds –
whether that voice is audible, visual,
reflective, or creative;
but when anybody, no matter who they are
and no matter how much experience
they have, approaches a microphone
to share what they have to say
to an audience of listeners,
so many emotions can come
bubbling up to the surface –
even veterans of singing
and voice-acting find it easier
to adopt a performance persona
so that they can fully embrace
and embody the words that are in
their thoughts, from their heart,
or the words that they are
reading from a page.

Holding a microphone in your hand
can be invigorating,
putting the lips of your mouth
close to the head of a microphone
can be exciting;
but sometimes when you are talking about
something without a script to read from,
your mouth can become dry,
you can find yourself lost for words,
and you can find yourself
talking and talking and talking
because your train of thought
feels like it is stuck in reverse.

When you perform for a long time
something like a microphone can
almost feel like an extension of yourself
and a vital tool with which you use
to extend the reach of your voice…
some people live so many days
with a microphone in their hand
or in front of them that they can find
it hard to imagine a place and a time
without one present –
which is how a musician thinks
when they consider a future without
their musical instrument.

Not everybody is a born performer
and not everybody feels comfortable
expressing themselves face to face,
via video, or by communicating over the phone –
but then there are people who have
always been confident and who
always have something teetering
on the tip of their tongue
and for those people there is no better
gift to give them than that which
can allow them to transmit their voice
and their message to the masses:
an opportunity and a microphone.

My Poem “Speaking Freely

It’s so great to be able
to breathe again…
it’s so great to be able
to talk again…
it’s so great to be able
to walk around freely
and be inspired
by what I see again…
it’s so great to be able
to have the opportunity
and the precious gift of time
to weave a new rhyme
with the ink from my pen again –
because I have missed being able
to breathe unhindered,
I have missed being able
to express myself with a stream
of unbroken speech,
I have missed going on a walkabout
to nowhere in particular
and silently picking up ideas and observations
about everything along the way…
I have missed doing what I love to do –
no matter where I am
or the current mood I am in –
and the past time of the poet
and the blessing of the tranquil:
the dream of being able to influence
the world in more ways
than could ever be known.