First thing’s first. I want your body. I imagine a door. You are in the room making jokes about how absurd you look in a plain t-shirt. We haven’t seen each other in over a decade. I want the Danube to part and reveal our bones, delicate curves of mollusks. I want the Black Forest over us, canopy of dark where we lose the voice our mothers gave to us. Every wound unfurled, wet foxes out of our throats, tenderly at first then full run toward the door. I move. You’re ever moving away from me. You’re not one for chances. You stay right where you are. The soldiers prayed, too, for this transport to happen. A man lifts his body over the creek one last time to walk toward the desert mule that carried him toward a lover that died two years prior. His journey was spent with her & she was with him eating olives he picked for her. She laughed at his jokes, his hands steered the mule continually west. His heart would give out later that year before the onset of winter. He knew it before he knew it, remembered his brother falling off the roof while making patches for their father. The impact broke his neck. He couldn’t see what his brother could see. We tell ourselves stories to keep sane. I know God stalks me. I want the village of Gengenbach to gather for a banquet. I want the unearthed bodies of our anger to ask forgiveness from everyone we’ve married, then set you, unhinged, under me. ————————————– Shannon Elizabeth Hardwick called us from San Angelo, TX. SUPPORT US ON PATREON: patreon.com/voicemailpoems voicemailpoems.org/call facebook.com/voicemailpoems twitter.com/voicemailpoems instagram.com/voicemailpoems voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
Bobby's Oar performs live at Radio Boise during Treefort Music Fest on March 24, 2019. https://www.treefortmusicfest.com/performer/bobbys-oar/
Part 2, with Dr. Bob Kustra!
your face is a silent confessional hair an evolving demarcation of time, so easily broken by the unkind curve of your brow Who sowed your eyes with that disapproval? Is it the same one who put that curve in your nose? Or is that the nose of the warmer months not wasted? a four wheeled slip a skidmark of blood you could afford to lose. the hint of freckles on your cheek, Do they darken in the sun? the single pimple that clings to your bare chin, painful signal of youth so heavy in your veins Have you ever seen your father cry? Do you volunteer to be designated driver, preferring the responsibility of love? Will you fall asleep tonight beneath an undecorated wall still unwilling to recognize the uncomfortable darkness that has been making a broken home of your skull? Does your sister know just how much you miss her? the last person to kiss your dry and downward sloping lips, Did you beg them to swallow your heart only to realize you couldn’t get it back? when you look at me with mahogany altar eyes What do you see? ————————————– Katbug called us from Philadelphia, PA. SUPPORT US ON PATREON: patreon.com/voicemailpoems voicemailpoems.org/call facebook.com/voicemailpoems twitter.com/voicemailpoems instagram.com/voicemailpoems voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
Ross is married to Grace, has a daughter named Faith, and is expecting his second bundle “Joy” shortly after this show. He founded Accelerate: Alaska because he thinks we need to start having REAL conversations about how Alaskans can impact our state’s future. Ross holds an MBA from the AGSM, ranked as the third-best global business school by Forbes Magazine. It’s important to the story.
dear icarus: this likeness scares me. where do you begin inside of me? what part of me carries your weary eyes and dripping wax wings? where do i place your desire? in between the shoulderblades? or inside the indent of the clavicle? you and i. desperate to prove our strength. we are climbing the blue-blind sky. suddenly the sun moves. and i think, what if we are consumed by the supernova of your hubris? our lives lay out in both directions. in times of uncertainty i remember your laughter. raising two black girls became something like a magic trick, for you. the rabbit was always in your hat, except her fur was black as coal. we never wondered how or why you kept your tricks up. i remember when you came home. it was christmas eve; you shattered a champagne glass on the seat of the piano. the night snapped black and white. red wine fell from your lips in heavy drops. we were all grown women, then, circling you with eyes that sliced the windows out of wood. fly away, we said. when will your caked-white wings melt into the ocean? we asked. you are nestled in your endless searching. you are somehow carried through the wind. i hope that the sun is there, waiting for you, ready and willing to peel the wax from the small of your back. and what will you see once you finally get to the top of the world? ————————————– Taylor Alyson Lewis called us from Atlanta, GA. SUPPORT US ON PATREON: patreon.com/voicemailpoems voicemailpoems.org/call facebook.com/voicemailpoems twitter.com/voicemailpoems instagram.com/voicemailpoems voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
Halverwege hun reis door Cuba verliezen Eva en haar vriendin een tas met een dure fotocamera. Ze gaan op zoek naar de dief. En zij niet alleen.
a boy is playing his guitar his mum is singing to its rhythms pretending she isn't dying soon the cloud is eating up the sun swallowing the day off our lives & we call it sunset believe me love is perishable I know this because my mother is dead so here is a body with no flesh a mouth with no songs another forest with no trees grandma said sometimes the smokes keep flying long after the fire's dead my baby says she wants to love me like mother did I say no don't bother to mother me I do not want to watch another mother vanish, becoming tear gas in the eyes of grief I do not want to knock and remember no one is there, anymore I do not want to make a museum out of your name this pain is fat enough to not need any more calories if, only, you'd be my tears if you'd be my tears I'll be too afraid to let you flow out freely like this like this . . . ————————————– Trust Tonji called us from Republic of Benin. SUPPORT US ON PATREON: patreon.com/voicemailpoems voicemailpoems.org/call facebook.com/voicemailpoems twitter.com/voicemailpoems instagram.com/voicemailpoems voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
I circled your bed at midnight chanting love me, then made your silence my poison & died died & still didn't have you in the brief, bitter afterlife that ensued imagine this wasn't a dream would you wake up and wade to sea with my soul? would you remember me? broken boat witch with no coven & no spell book voyeur at your bedside glaring? cast a shadow over your name and let me live there consummate our love posthumously throw a net over my apparition - I'd do anything not to fall, unheld swim back to the shore alone, boat with no oar save a jilted ghost with waves for a dress, dead but still desperate for your affection the waves change course you wake up with my name seated at its throne, your tongue which is to say you are home now i will no longer beg for what is mine ————————————– Nkateko Masinga called us from Pretoria, South Africa. SUPPORT US ON PATREON: patreon.com/voicemailpoems voicemailpoems.org/call facebook.com/voicemailpoems twitter.com/voicemailpoems instagram.com/voicemailpoems voicemailpoems.org/thepodcast
Diego is a senior at Service High School and is an outgoing person who loves to laugh. He's part of the biomedical program at Service and is looking forward to someday attending medical school.
Adam is a 35-year-old lifelong Alaskan. When he's not working for Guardian Flight, he's probably out biking, skiing, climbing, reading or sleeping. If he's not doing any of those things, he's probably up to no good.
Back in Song China, we have a tale of two emperors: one who is devoted utterly to his father, and the other who's...well... not. Time Period Covered: 1165-1194 CE Major Historical Figures: Retired Emperor Gaozong [r. 1127-1162, as retired emperor 1162-1187] Emperor Xiaozong [r. 1162-1189, as retired emperor 1189-1194] Emperor Guangzong [r. 1189-1194] Empress Dowager Wu [1115-1197] Empress Li [1144-1200]
Elif Shafak is an award-winning British-Turkish novelist and the most widely read female author in Turkey. She writes in both Turkish and English, and has published seventeen books, eleven of which are novels. Her work has been translated into fifty languages. Shafak holds a PhD in political science and she has taught at various universities in Turkey, the US and the UK, including St Anne's College, Oxford University, where she is an honorary fellow. She is a member of Weforum Global Agenda Council on Creative Economy and a founding member of ECFR (European Council on Foreign Relations). An advocate for women's rights, LGBT rights and freedom of speech, Shafak contributes to major publications around the world and she has been awarded the title of Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres. www.elifshafak.com Recorded live at the EartH in London's Hackney on 19th March 2019. 5x15 brings together outstanding individuals to tell of their lives, passions and inspirations. Learn more about 5x15 events: www.5x15stories.com Twitter: www.twitter.com/5x15stories Facebook: www.facebook.com/5x15stories Instagram: www.instagram.com/5x15stories
Cindi has enjoyed the Alaskan outdoors for over 48 years. Her only child, the Snowbird Hut, is a constant source of joy and crazy experiences in her life. Volunteering for projects like this has put her in touch with an incredible community of outdoor people. Check out the Snowbird Hut Facebook page to see these amazing Alaskans and view the great work they do to support the hut!
After Vladimir Lenin's death, Stalin orders two Jewish scientists to preserve Lenin's body for all time. If they succeed, the rewards will be considerable. If not, it's the gulag – or worse. Based on real events, Vern Thiessen's nimble dark comedy exposes the absurdities of Soviet life under Stalin. "Lenin's Embalmers" is part of L.A. Theatre Works' Relativity Series featuring science-themed plays. Lead funding for the Relativity Series is provided by the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, bridging science and the arts in the modern world. Recorded at The Invisible Studios, West Hollywood in July 2018. Directed by Martin Jarvis Producing Director Susan Albert Loewenberg JD Cullum as Vlad Simon Helberg as Boris Gregory Harrison as Lenin Jon Matthews as Krasin Rufus Sewell as Stalin John Sloan as Agent 2 Mark Jude Sullivan as Agent 1 Jocelyn Towne as Nadia Associate Artistic Director, Anna Lyse Erikson. Sound Designer and Mixer, Mark Holden for The Invisible Studios, West Hollywood. Senior Radio Producer, Ronn Lipkin. Foley Artist, Jeff Gardner. Recording Engineer and Editor, Erick Cifuentes.
My name is Rebekah. I'm a middle school teacher and the mother of 3 kids. So, basically, I'm invincible. :) I love stories and feel we all have important ones to share.
Stories about being alone, wanting to be alone, or feeling alone. What is that place we go to to protect ourselves? How and why achieve seclusion? Producers: Yue Li, Sofia Sanchez-Luege, Jett Hayward, Stephanie Niu, Sienna White and Adesuwa Agbonile. http://storytelling.stanford.edu
Sammen med debuterende hørespilsforfatter Olga Ravn og instruktør Niels Erling dykker den feministiske debattør, Emma Holten ned i Olga og Niels' arbejde med hørespillet KITTYS HAD. Sammen taler de om tilblivelsen af hørespillet fra idé til papir og om, hvordan man som instruktør omsætter en monolog til et lydpublikum, mens man på samme tid skal have et live-publikum in mente. Kunstnersamtalen blev optaget live på Johan Borups Højskole i februar 2019.
A book bound in the skin of its author causes eye-rolls for its modern-day caretakers. [[FULL DESCRIPTION AND PHOTOS AT https://www.hbmpodcast.com]]
Julie grew up near Seattle but has made Alaska home for the last 30 years. She is a retired educator who loves rowing, and, along with her husband and son, enjoys skiing, biking, and spending time at their cabin near McCarthy