7.31.15

 

 

The Messages (Redux), by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

Read by Xe Sands

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Xe writes…

Yep. Just posted this one, what, a month ago? So why the redo…
Because when I listened back to the first recording, I really didn’t like it. Oh sure, there was emotion there and all that. But the way I performed it…it, well, it robbed the listener of the experience somehow – fed it to them, instead of allowing them to come to their own emotional choice.

And as that’s something I think about often as a performer, and as GP gives me the freedom to do whatever the heck I want (the beauty of being the boss), I decided to redo it, and throw it open to y’all – the listeners. If you’re so inclined, list to both and let me know which is a more effective, more evocative experience for you (er, provided either one is, of course). I’m dying to know…

 

 

 

Something Beautiful, by Wayne Gatfield

Read by Wayne Gatfield

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Wayne writes…

An inspirational poem of mine with added music(not mine)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Black Wedding Dress, Vernon Crumrine

Read by Sara Mosey

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Sara writes…

a short poem by my colleague Vernon Crumrine with permission

 

 

The Howling and the Weeping, George MacDonald

Read by theshadowlands

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theshadowlands writes…

My poetic rendering of George MacDonald’s short story “The Gray Wolf” (Poem 6)

—The Howling and the Weeping—

Suddenly he woke with his shoulder in pangs
By a creature with its embedded fangs
Pulsating was he now in throbbing pain
His strength and mind he could not regain

The young man with one hand to resist
With other hand and knife to assist
Flailing he struggled in vain
Futile stabbing again and again

The creature snuffed and snorted
With its wild body contorted
The fought and rolled around
Across the cottage and to the ground

As the creature leapt and rolled
From his neck now loosening it hold
Soon releasing a howl and a scream
The mixture so strange and so extreme

The creature darted out the door
Sea and spray spread across the floor
With the spray and mist upon his face
He sprang to his feet and began the chase

It was dark, and a wild and stormy night
With crashing waves of flashing white
During this raining, stormy scare
A gruesome sound then filled the air

From the dark, there came a growl
Then a rising mixture of weep and howl
He turned back where he was before
To enter the cottage and to close the door

The lamp’s flicker was soon to quench
Not certain of a woman who might be upon the bench
The student overcome with sudden fear
Then seeing that there was no one here

The aftershock would not abate
So for daylight, the student sat to wait
The morning was dim, gusty and gray
And out the door, did he make his way

He wandered the beach in the morning light
Considering all that had happened that dreadful night
Along the beach, still ringing in his ear
The howling…and the weeping…that night…to hear..(-bc)

 

 

Tom Jones, Book XIV, Chapter 2, by Henry Fielding

Read by Mark Turetsky

Mark writes…

Book 14 Chapter 2 of Tom Jones.

This is part of an ongoing project in which I will record and post one chapter per week of Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones over the course of four years.

In this chapter, we see more of Henry Fielding as a playwright. He sets up a classic farcical situation, where Lady Bellaston has come to Tom’s room to seduce him, but while she’s there, Sophia servant, Mrs. Honour, arrives. Lady Bellaston then must hide behind a bed curtain and hears everything Mrs. Honour says to Tom, which is, of course, purely insults upon Lady Bellaston’s honor.

 

 

 

Tom Jones, Book XIV, Chapter 3, by Henry Fielding

Read by Mark Turetsky

Mark writes…

Book 14 Chapter 3 of Tom Jones.

This is part of an ongoing project in which I will record and post one chapter per week of Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones over the course of four years.

In this chapter, Tom received a visit from Mrs. Miller, who tells him that she wants him out of her house, that having multiple women visit him at all hours of the night will ruin the reputations of her daughters, and that even though he’s a relation of Squire Allworthy, she can’t abide his behaviour. Tom immediately suspects that Patridge has let slip that Tom was Allworthy’s ward.

 

 

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