If Walls Could Talk's 1st Anniversary
As the sun drops further down the skyline,
We climb up those steps,
Filling the stairwell with our excited chatter.
Squeezing ourselves into whatever cosy corner we can.
Dim the lights!
Adjust that spotlight!
Mic stands at the ready.
Poets, breathe in deep.
It doesn’t matter if you are new, or a poet with a heavyweight belt of words,
Those butterflies will start flying.
But take heart,
This is where walls can talk, and they say that you are welcome.
This is where you hear the snapping of fingers as you speak,
Your voice may tremble as you pour your soul into those scribbled lines,
But still they listen and nod,
Poets, breathe in deep.
Coffee machine hissing in the background as you wait,
Teasing your senses with the promise of dark, roasted inspiration,
Then an expectant hush falls across the floor as a clear, musical voice echoes through those thoughts
“Welcome to If Walls Could Talk…”
If walls could talk,
they would whisper, “look to their eyes.”
A light may catch fire in someone’s heart,
A tear may be wiped away with a trembling hand,
A hidden rip in someone’s soul may begin to close.
This is what these walls would say
Poets Rediscovered.
Poets Born.
Poets thankful of a space for them step out under that swinging light
and speak what’s in their heart,
Weaving the web of language to draw in a community wrapped up in those threads of poetry.
If walls could talk,
They would be welcoming, warm and full of a passionate heart,
Like the woman who built them.
So come one, come all,
Let’s make these walls SING.
We climb up those steps,
Filling the stairwell with our excited chatter.
Squeezing ourselves into whatever cosy corner we can.
Dim the lights!
Adjust that spotlight!
Mic stands at the ready.
Poets, breathe in deep.
It doesn’t matter if you are new, or a poet with a heavyweight belt of words,
Those butterflies will start flying.
But take heart,
This is where walls can talk, and they say that you are welcome.
This is where you hear the snapping of fingers as you speak,
Your voice may tremble as you pour your soul into those scribbled lines,
But still they listen and nod,
Poets, breathe in deep.
Coffee machine hissing in the background as you wait,
Teasing your senses with the promise of dark, roasted inspiration,
Then an expectant hush falls across the floor as a clear, musical voice echoes through those thoughts
“Welcome to If Walls Could Talk…”
If walls could talk,
they would whisper, “look to their eyes.”
A light may catch fire in someone’s heart,
A tear may be wiped away with a trembling hand,
A hidden rip in someone’s soul may begin to close.
This is what these walls would say
Poets Rediscovered.
Poets Born.
Poets thankful of a space for them step out under that swinging light
and speak what’s in their heart,
Weaving the web of language to draw in a community wrapped up in those threads of poetry.
If walls could talk,
They would be welcoming, warm and full of a passionate heart,
Like the woman who built them.
So come one, come all,
Let’s make these walls SING.
- Lia
Angelia Ong, often known as #evilauntielia, is a multi-faceted woman who is trying to help educate demigods and assorted extras. In her spare time (hah!), she loves, writes, eats, swims, and hopefully encourages others to find their voices in the cacophony that is the world today.
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