The audience was quiet. Tonight it was the children that were the audience. They were listening to there father as he read them the evening Bible reading before bed.
The audience is listening. That’s the new promo that is shown in the theater. Yes, that’s true. The audience has no other choice. You must listen if you are part of an audience. Isn’t that the base form of the word, something to do with audio? You’re sitting there waiting. And then it happens!
Her audience was a room full of students. And she composed herself as she began to tell them the dangers of drug use and the importance of staying away from it, along with her own terrifying life experiences knowing in her heart her stories would scare them to death.
I always feel like I need an audience when I’m struggling, or in pain. I can never silently suffer. But right now I just feel resounding anger and I don’t need anybody to see this. I need to live without the audience.
Her time to prove herself had come. As she approached the stage, the spotlight fell on her, and though she was hesitant in the beginning, her graceful moves spelled an enthralling chant on the audience. A round of applause followed soon after, and her destiny had more in store for her. Among the audience was a casting agent, who gave her an opportunity which would change her life forever.
Sometimes when we experience an audience, we find that we ourselves sometimes feel a disjointed uneasiness from the collective. This is interesting to say the least because there is a mob, or biological mentality that we should feel safe and secure, not the opposite. Is it a matter of culture which we’re afraid we’ll have to cough, get the hiccups?
I have an audience of the Universe watching me as I rise above the dredges of my mind and into a state of complete abundance and self Awareness. I thank the Universe for pointing me in the way of self worth and increasing value.
“May I please have an audience with the king?”
The guard laughed.
“Come er’ widdle kitty!” He stretched out a hand to pet my ears.
“Hey!” I slapped his hand. Oh, probably that wasn’t a very good idea….
The drum player looked up to face a crowd of flashing lights, hands in the air, and screams. The auditorium was filled with fans and with that thought he smiled.
Eyes watching, expecting a great performance, a life changing speech. I stutter and stammer, choke on my words,blush bright red. I can see the colour reflecting off their disappointed faces.
On the other side of the curtain, I can hear the audience filing in, the murmur of voices as the first people take their seats. My stomach flutters and I meet a fellow actor’s eyes. They smile back at me and in this moment we are closer than friends, closer than siblings.
Daunting, a mass of faces all facing the same way. Looking at one thing, that is, me. I can’t focus on any of their individual expressions. Just a mass look of disappointment at what they see. They’re waiting for me to do something amazing, something wonderful.
He could not see the audience because of the lights that lined the edge of the stage and shone down into his eyes. He blinked hard and tried to remember his next line. Beyond the threshold of the stage he heard a woman cough and felt himself something tickle in his throat.
Ohmy god, thisis so scary. am I sweating? I feel likemy make up is running offf. Is my costume showingmy bum? Can they see everything? My mum’s out there somewhere.
I stood there, transfixed by the fact that I could only see darkness. Still, I felt every pair of eyes like pin-pricks in my skin, accupuncture by strangers.
My life now always has an audience. Once I had children I found that I monitored my actions so much more than I ever had before. I gauge actions through their eyes. I have a sense that whatever I do cannot harm them and, if possible, should help them.
Audience are those that not only listen but those that are within the same space that whatever you are doing can be observed. Audience can also be that of made up things.
the audience was dead silent as he fell, fifty feet at least, down and down and down. the heart stopping release of the ropes were so sudden, no one had the conscious mind to think of what event just occurred. the only sound was the crack of bones when the man hit the ground, that until a pitched scream was emitted from the crowds, followed by a chorus of many similar.
the audience fell silent as they watched the sight play before their eyes. he fell fifty feet from the ropes, down and down and down to the floor. the only sound heard was his weight hitting the floor below, and finally the deep silence was broken by a pitched scream of a woman in the crowd.
I looked out in to the crowd. Staring at me, eye’s fixed on me. I tried to follow the advice my friend had given me. Unfortunately, picturing them naked didn’t help. And neither did the bulge in my pants.
The audience was painfully silent as I approached the stage. I knew what they were expecting. An aria, or a dance, or a stand-up comedy routine. I wasn’t going to do any of those. I waited for the guy running the film projector to give me the thumbs up, so I could begin my presentation. It would involve slides, music, and lots of words – strong words. I had a message to send out to these people. It was up to them to take anything I said or showed seriously.
They were looking at him. All of them. Every, single, one of them. Their eyes glowed like a million led lights in the dark before him. Soulless, dead eyes.
Upstage, blood pounding in the ear
blur of faces dance like waves
heart beats rhyme with claps
leg still, arms paralyzed
mouth dry, but corners, mobile
The audience was enough to scare off even the toughest of beasts. Frantic fans screamed loudly enough to raise the dead, pumping their fists in the air as the music reached a frenzied peak.
Who can say what the audience will choose when studying their faces and their claps… The inner thoughts of everyone are indeed a mystery, but everything has a common thread and the thoughts of the strong seem to overpower the weak, into a sort of group think, sometimes divided into groups like the so called thinking of this country’s audience.
There was a drunken old woman in the audience, who started singing along with most of the songs, but could not remember the words after the first two lines or so, so she would just mumble or hum them, then fade out and stare at the ceiling. As each song then ended, she would snap out of her trance, look around her to see if anyone noticed, then sit up, adjust her hair, and wait patiently for the next song to start.
Hey its this one again!! ” I’m standing in front of an audience”….. love it! There you go.
The audience was quiet. Tonight it was the children that were the audience. They were listening to there father as he read them the evening Bible reading before bed.
The audience is listening. That’s the new promo that is shown in the theater. Yes, that’s true. The audience has no other choice. You must listen if you are part of an audience. Isn’t that the base form of the word, something to do with audio? You’re sitting there waiting. And then it happens!
Her audience was a room full of students. And she composed herself as she began to tell them the dangers of drug use and the importance of staying away from it, along with her own terrifying life experiences knowing in her heart her stories would scare them to death.
I always feel like I need an audience when I’m struggling, or in pain. I can never silently suffer. But right now I just feel resounding anger and I don’t need anybody to see this. I need to live without the audience.
Her time to prove herself had come. As she approached the stage, the spotlight fell on her, and though she was hesitant in the beginning, her graceful moves spelled an enthralling chant on the audience. A round of applause followed soon after, and her destiny had more in store for her. Among the audience was a casting agent, who gave her an opportunity which would change her life forever.
Sometimes when we experience an audience, we find that we ourselves sometimes feel a disjointed uneasiness from the collective. This is interesting to say the least because there is a mob, or biological mentality that we should feel safe and secure, not the opposite. Is it a matter of culture which we’re afraid we’ll have to cough, get the hiccups?
I have an audience of the Universe watching me as I rise above the dredges of my mind and into a state of complete abundance and self Awareness. I thank the Universe for pointing me in the way of self worth and increasing value.
“May I please have an audience with the king?”
The guard laughed.
“Come er’ widdle kitty!” He stretched out a hand to pet my ears.
“Hey!” I slapped his hand. Oh, probably that wasn’t a very good idea….
The drum player looked up to face a crowd of flashing lights, hands in the air, and screams. The auditorium was filled with fans and with that thought he smiled.
the heat that can be felt, the scream , the rejoice the
She took a deep breath and stepped onto the wooden stage. Tonight she would sing. The audience filled out Wilton’s Hall, expectant in their seats.
Everyone watches and gapes, mouths hanging slack and lifeless. Time is clueless, a metaphor for death
Eyes watching, expecting a great performance, a life changing speech. I stutter and stammer, choke on my words,blush bright red. I can see the colour reflecting off their disappointed faces.
On the other side of the curtain, I can hear the audience filing in, the murmur of voices as the first people take their seats. My stomach flutters and I meet a fellow actor’s eyes. They smile back at me and in this moment we are closer than friends, closer than siblings.
Daunting, a mass of faces all facing the same way. Looking at one thing, that is, me. I can’t focus on any of their individual expressions. Just a mass look of disappointment at what they see. They’re waiting for me to do something amazing, something wonderful.
He could not see the audience because of the lights that lined the edge of the stage and shone down into his eyes. He blinked hard and tried to remember his next line. Beyond the threshold of the stage he heard a woman cough and felt himself something tickle in his throat.
Ohmy god, thisis so scary. am I sweating? I feel likemy make up is running offf. Is my costume showingmy bum? Can they see everything? My mum’s out there somewhere.
The audience smells. From up here on the stage, I can smell thoier popcorn and perfumes. I can smell their sweat and expectation.
I am terrible at talking to an audience. I stammer and confuse my words. All jumbled up. I look like a complete mess.
Then again, I’m the same when I’m talking one on one. Maybe I’m just a complete social wreck.
And I know for a fact that I’m going to have to read this out to you guys, my audience, and you’re going to know all my horrible anxieties.
*weeps*
I stand frozen, staring into flat black, but feeling every pair of eyes upon me. Like tiny pin-pricks, an amature audience accupuncture.
I stood there, transfixed by the fact that I could only see darkness. Still, I felt every pair of eyes like pin-pricks in my skin, accupuncture by strangers.
My life now always has an audience. Once I had children I found that I monitored my actions so much more than I ever had before. I gauge actions through their eyes. I have a sense that whatever I do cannot harm them and, if possible, should help them.
Audience are those that not only listen but those that are within the same space that whatever you are doing can be observed. Audience can also be that of made up things.
crowd cheering big many people loud supporters supporting sitting standing ovation noise noises
the audience was dead silent, not much different than the man lying broken in the center of the arena.
the audience was dead silent as he fell, fifty feet at least, down and down and down. the heart stopping release of the ropes were so sudden, no one had the conscious mind to think of what event just occurred. the only sound was the crack of bones when the man hit the ground, that until a pitched scream was emitted from the crowds, followed by a chorus of many similar.
the audience fell silent as they watched the sight play before their eyes. he fell fifty feet from the ropes, down and down and down to the floor. the only sound heard was his weight hitting the floor below, and finally the deep silence was broken by a pitched scream of a woman in the crowd.
I looked out in to the crowd. Staring at me, eye’s fixed on me. I tried to follow the advice my friend had given me. Unfortunately, picturing them naked didn’t help. And neither did the bulge in my pants.
The audience was painfully silent as I approached the stage. I knew what they were expecting. An aria, or a dance, or a stand-up comedy routine. I wasn’t going to do any of those. I waited for the guy running the film projector to give me the thumbs up, so I could begin my presentation. It would involve slides, music, and lots of words – strong words. I had a message to send out to these people. It was up to them to take anything I said or showed seriously.
They were looking at him. All of them. Every, single, one of them. Their eyes glowed like a million led lights in the dark before him. Soulless, dead eyes.
Upstage, blood pounding in the ear
blur of faces dance like waves
heart beats rhyme with claps
leg still, arms paralyzed
mouth dry, but corners, mobile
Let
your clothes fall,
I’ll applaud,
let eyes linger
under
waterfalls,
peppertrees–
rock
bark
skin
hair
teeth
gnash
argue
argue
argue.
i felt unsure
I felt like everyone was going to attack me with negativity
then i saw her
Front row
Shes pure bliss
White teeth smile
The audience is something relationated with television, fame, actors and actresses. This word means people watching with attention.
The audience was enough to scare off even the toughest of beasts. Frantic fans screamed loudly enough to raise the dead, pumping their fists in the air as the music reached a frenzied peak.
Who can say what the audience will choose when studying their faces and their claps… The inner thoughts of everyone are indeed a mystery, but everything has a common thread and the thoughts of the strong seem to overpower the weak, into a sort of group think, sometimes divided into groups like the so called thinking of this country’s audience.
There was a drunken old woman in the audience, who started singing along with most of the songs, but could not remember the words after the first two lines or so, so she would just mumble or hum them, then fade out and stare at the ceiling. As each song then ended, she would snap out of her trance, look around her to see if anyone noticed, then sit up, adjust her hair, and wait patiently for the next song to start.
A flick of the wand;
it’s time to begin.
Open the cathedral
of your chest like dislocated
jaws swallowing down the ends
of an autumn-yawn.
Bring the opera to life
as you howl to the spirits
webbed down into each
depressive chair like
a full and heavy moon.
Scoop out the dead parts
of yourself like a triple-scoop
special and serve it to the first
open-chested beggar
who asks for compassion.
And don’t you listen to the eyes,
because no one likes to look
upon the ugly: they won’t see a thing.
Hey I’m standing in front of an audience!!!!!!! I feel good now.