The audience was hushed, hardly a whisper to be heard. Their fancy hats covered in shiny ornaments dazzled my eyes as i floated onstage to meet my prince charming.
an audience cheers on and on not wanting the show to end. in a way i suppose we are all each others audience. audiences of life. we cheer for the good; boo and hiss the bad. and become gruesomely upset when it ends.
You can either be in an audience, or being watched by one.. Alternatively you could be watching an audience, but that’s an audience for an audience… canned
Ladies and gentleman, I want to welcome you to the big event tonight. Hopefully you will like me. Hopefully you will find me interesting, witty, funny and… well, worth the money. Otherwise, who am I? Who am I?
She shifted uncomfortably, fingers fumbling with the edge of her skirt as she pulled it down lower. The great curtain in front of her was the only barrier between her and all those people out there. She could hear them: shuffling in their seats, mumbling comments to the people next to them, waiting for her. The curtain shifted, the controls from the stage room pulling it back across the stage, and she stiffened, took a deep breath, and painted a bright smile on her face, heart fluttering like a hummingbird in her chest. Here it goes.
it is very loud. they make a lot of noise and have an opinion for what they are watching. they critique what they are seeing and either love it or hate it. there is an audience for a lot of events.
and the audience gasped in terror when the phantom of the opera revealed himself from the rafters. As he came drifting down his face was blank with no expression but his eyes were full of emotion.
theres a play and i am signing and this audience is watching me but then im afraid and i suddenyl leave and i go back home but then i realize again im afraid because im alone and i realize that i can be around so many people and be alone but then when i am alone i feel better and i cant choose whether to be alone or with people.
the audience stood up and clapped as i finished my performance. when i am in front of an audience, everything changes. I PERFORM. i love to dance. i feel alive when i perform. I wish i could get that feeling every day. When i saw hte audience crying after our dance, i was crying too, it just felt soo good. i love to perform for AUDIENCES
an audience has many functions, they must applaud which isnt always the easiest task, especially when ones performance isnt always applause-worthy. however, it is necessary sometimes to just sit and look pretty. I cant tell you how many times i have done so. I would make a brilliant audience member
they cheer you on. they watch you and only you. they’re the support. they’re the people who chose to watch you. you can make them laugh, cry, or smile – they’re at your mercy. they may love you or hate you but either way you’ve taken the time to captivate them and make them care about you.
I think of the way people look at me. Audience, I think of claps and smiles. I think of spectators. I think of applause. I think of regal and royalty. I think of perfection. Not individuality, but unanimous. As one.
That’s what I think.
Carpets and curtains and gold and red. Audience. Regal. Royal.
a large gathering of people who have come to seee what you can do awaits. Step up and shine because this is your chance. Swallow and remember you can do this. The applause is deafening, moving
I love singing in front of an audience. Not having an audience would surely be uninteresting. But singing in front of one… ah-ha! What an experience. Then, of course, this word begs the question… how many make up an audience? What’s the fewest number? Two? Five? I’m not quite sure. I think singing in front of an audience of one could be interesting. I suppose one is enough.
the audience watched as the man accidentally stabbed himself with the real knife. His wife smiled from the backstage area as she was the one who had switched the two. The audience cried out as they realized the death scene was authentic and screams were heard throughout the night.
Many people all waiting patiently for the performers to appear and the show to begin. Some somber and bored. Others happy and softly whispering to the person to there side.
is there and audience watching me? hardly
im nothing special to look at
the only audience is the ones watching taylor swift rock out on stage
theres hardly and audience for me.
there’s an audience and everybody is clapping for the girl who just sang because her voice sounded nice and then the audience stood up and clapped and then the next guy came on and then he danced and they clapped again and then there was a rainbow with a florence of chick on top of the right side then the audience clapped again and everybody lived dong never happy ever after.
Sweeping and scrubbing away the past, my audience of two solitary figures gazed on. One appalled at my treatment of the dust bunnies. The other simply at peace.
people sitting watching a show. a group of people who are being entertained. a performance worth watching. more than a meeting of people. all share a common interest. they all feel the need to escape reality or to share in a common interest.
The people staring, with no expression and completely immobile, they dont understand what they are looking at or who they are judging. I open my mouth and hope they agree. What if they get up and leave or start yelling? I speak and hold no regrets for i speak my mind.
The little girl in the blue dress with duck-shaped polka dots watched the balloon rise into the atmosphere. She didn’t feel anyone around her, but knew she had an audience. They hid in bushes, under trees, even sometimes in plain sight, if you had the Sight. She didn’t have the Sight, but her brother had told her stories, fairy tales of ancient times past, and some family legends. Mom said not to believe, that he was just trying to scare her, but she felt them, and she knew.
Stop looking at me with those expecting eyes, you will get what you came for, you will dream about what you saw tonight. Tomorrow when you wake up this is what you will remember.
A gentle laugh, creamy white hand lifted, fingers curved caressingly over a wine stem. Blonde hair turned slightly to the right, and blue eyes slightly hooded. Yes, they were snared. She was beautiful, she was amazing, she had all their attention. the audience was dazzled, and all she had to do was the same stereotypical song and dance that gorgeous woman had been doing for lifetimes. The amount of skin showed and innocence displayed may have changed with the centuries, but the basics remained the same. Good skin, good hair, an air of idiocy, and champagne. The trap was set, they were hers.
They all watch, eyes filled with scarring anticipation. Your hands sweat the more they stare, and when the lights flicker on and red curtains draw, you don’t know what to do anymore. Hours of memorisation and perfected actions no longer recall, and when the cue to start alarms, you choke. Your eyes stray from the silhouetted faces, and then a breathe. She’s looking at you too, waiting for you to start the secluded dance of clever words and familiar wit. Finally you comphrend, it’s not the audience that you want to impress, it never was. The music starts and you catch her smile from the corner of your eyes.
bravo! bravo! hurrah! hurrah!
they cheer your name out loud
you take a bow for your crowd
and bid them adieu
they cheer! they cheer!
they cheer for you
He peered out nervously at the assembled crowd. Many wanted to see what would happen next, but he was too embarrassed to do anything. The audience laughed. He got up, brushed himself off and left amidst gales of laughter.
I love it when I get a chance to stand up on stage and talk to an audience. Its liberating. Once I really get into it, it feels like I have the world in front of me, grabbing at any word I have to say.
your eyes on me,
I watch you…
watching me.
I can see the faint reflection
in your eyes,
my smile,
you captivate me.
In your eyes,
I see nothing more..
than positivity!
this is my life…
but please lend,
your audience to me..
identify your audience to find your voice – i can’t find my audience, I cant find my voice – I have no audience I have no voice – no one will listen – I have something to say – I cant get it out – I am afraid of my audience and afraid of my voice –
my audience will not lay down on my pillow, nor will it wake in my arms – my voice was with me when I was born and it will be with me when I die –
I must live for my voice – i must identify my sound – it is my voice that must lead – my audience will not always be around
I was nervous. Sweating even. I hate the audience. The way they stare. The way they hold their breath. The masses, just waiting to be entertained. By you. By me. By anyone. I take a nervous breath and step onto the stage.
A quick jab at the man’s weight. The look of sadness in his eyes as I bring up his failing marriage, his cruel and out of control children. Old news.
I conjure up all my creative might, notice the suitcase hidden under his desk, and venture that he’s living in the office. Tears glisten in his eyes, everyone laughs.
The pulsing beat crept down the stairs and up the walls, painting the walls with the intricate melody. It slithered down the columns, flooded the tiled floor and chained the audience to their seats.
Your face is such an audience to my lasting sense of doubt.
You drag me through the gutters with your eyes, your mouth, your snout.
And when I try to breathe, you pull me down below
And whisper “No one loves you like I hate you” before delivering a blow.
The audience was hushed, hardly a whisper to be heard. Their fancy hats covered in shiny ornaments dazzled my eyes as i floated onstage to meet my prince charming.
an audience cheers on and on not wanting the show to end. in a way i suppose we are all each others audience. audiences of life. we cheer for the good; boo and hiss the bad. and become gruesomely upset when it ends.
You can either be in an audience, or being watched by one.. Alternatively you could be watching an audience, but that’s an audience for an audience… canned
Ladies and gentleman, I want to welcome you to the big event tonight. Hopefully you will like me. Hopefully you will find me interesting, witty, funny and… well, worth the money. Otherwise, who am I? Who am I?
She shifted uncomfortably, fingers fumbling with the edge of her skirt as she pulled it down lower. The great curtain in front of her was the only barrier between her and all those people out there. She could hear them: shuffling in their seats, mumbling comments to the people next to them, waiting for her. The curtain shifted, the controls from the stage room pulling it back across the stage, and she stiffened, took a deep breath, and painted a bright smile on her face, heart fluttering like a hummingbird in her chest. Here it goes.
it is very loud. they make a lot of noise and have an opinion for what they are watching. they critique what they are seeing and either love it or hate it. there is an audience for a lot of events.
and the audience gasped in terror when the phantom of the opera revealed himself from the rafters. As he came drifting down his face was blank with no expression but his eyes were full of emotion.
theres a play and i am signing and this audience is watching me but then im afraid and i suddenyl leave and i go back home but then i realize again im afraid because im alone and i realize that i can be around so many people and be alone but then when i am alone i feel better and i cant choose whether to be alone or with people.
the audience stood up and clapped as i finished my performance. when i am in front of an audience, everything changes. I PERFORM. i love to dance. i feel alive when i perform. I wish i could get that feeling every day. When i saw hte audience crying after our dance, i was crying too, it just felt soo good. i love to perform for AUDIENCES
an audience has many functions, they must applaud which isnt always the easiest task, especially when ones performance isnt always applause-worthy. however, it is necessary sometimes to just sit and look pretty. I cant tell you how many times i have done so. I would make a brilliant audience member
they cheer you on. they watch you and only you. they’re the support. they’re the people who chose to watch you. you can make them laugh, cry, or smile – they’re at your mercy. they may love you or hate you but either way you’ve taken the time to captivate them and make them care about you.
I think of the way people look at me. Audience, I think of claps and smiles. I think of spectators. I think of applause. I think of regal and royalty. I think of perfection. Not individuality, but unanimous. As one.
That’s what I think.
Carpets and curtains and gold and red. Audience. Regal. Royal.
a large gathering of people who have come to seee what you can do awaits. Step up and shine because this is your chance. Swallow and remember you can do this. The applause is deafening, moving
I love singing in front of an audience. Not having an audience would surely be uninteresting. But singing in front of one… ah-ha! What an experience. Then, of course, this word begs the question… how many make up an audience? What’s the fewest number? Two? Five? I’m not quite sure. I think singing in front of an audience of one could be interesting. I suppose one is enough.
the audience watched as the man accidentally stabbed himself with the real knife. His wife smiled from the backstage area as she was the one who had switched the two. The audience cried out as they realized the death scene was authentic and screams were heard throughout the night.
Many people all waiting patiently for the performers to appear and the show to begin. Some somber and bored. Others happy and softly whispering to the person to there side.
is there and audience watching me? hardly
im nothing special to look at
the only audience is the ones watching taylor swift rock out on stage
theres hardly and audience for me.
AUDIENCE:————–
there’s an audience and everybody is clapping for the girl who just sang because her voice sounded nice and then the audience stood up and clapped and then the next guy came on and then he danced and they clapped again and then there was a rainbow with a florence of chick on top of the right side then the audience clapped again and everybody lived dong never happy ever after.
Sweeping and scrubbing away the past, my audience of two solitary figures gazed on. One appalled at my treatment of the dust bunnies. The other simply at peace.
people sitting watching a show. a group of people who are being entertained. a performance worth watching. more than a meeting of people. all share a common interest. they all feel the need to escape reality or to share in a common interest.
The people staring, with no expression and completely immobile, they dont understand what they are looking at or who they are judging. I open my mouth and hope they agree. What if they get up and leave or start yelling? I speak and hold no regrets for i speak my mind.
TOO MUCH PRESSURE. People watching, people to impress and entertain otherwise you will be judged and determined failure.
The little girl in the blue dress with duck-shaped polka dots watched the balloon rise into the atmosphere. She didn’t feel anyone around her, but knew she had an audience. They hid in bushes, under trees, even sometimes in plain sight, if you had the Sight. She didn’t have the Sight, but her brother had told her stories, fairy tales of ancient times past, and some family legends. Mom said not to believe, that he was just trying to scare her, but she felt them, and she knew.
Stop looking at me with those expecting eyes, you will get what you came for, you will dream about what you saw tonight. Tomorrow when you wake up this is what you will remember.
A gentle laugh, creamy white hand lifted, fingers curved caressingly over a wine stem. Blonde hair turned slightly to the right, and blue eyes slightly hooded. Yes, they were snared. She was beautiful, she was amazing, she had all their attention. the audience was dazzled, and all she had to do was the same stereotypical song and dance that gorgeous woman had been doing for lifetimes. The amount of skin showed and innocence displayed may have changed with the centuries, but the basics remained the same. Good skin, good hair, an air of idiocy, and champagne. The trap was set, they were hers.
A group of people of any size being entertained in the same specific place.
They all watch, eyes filled with scarring anticipation. Your hands sweat the more they stare, and when the lights flicker on and red curtains draw, you don’t know what to do anymore. Hours of memorisation and perfected actions no longer recall, and when the cue to start alarms, you choke. Your eyes stray from the silhouetted faces, and then a breathe. She’s looking at you too, waiting for you to start the secluded dance of clever words and familiar wit. Finally you comphrend, it’s not the audience that you want to impress, it never was. The music starts and you catch her smile from the corner of your eyes.
bravo! bravo! hurrah! hurrah!
they cheer your name out loud
you take a bow for your crowd
and bid them adieu
they cheer! they cheer!
they cheer for you
In the corner of the bus stop, in the window of the houses, in terraces, in trees, they all were privileged audience for the last single note of music
He peered out nervously at the assembled crowd. Many wanted to see what would happen next, but he was too embarrassed to do anything. The audience laughed. He got up, brushed himself off and left amidst gales of laughter.
I love it when I get a chance to stand up on stage and talk to an audience. Its liberating. Once I really get into it, it feels like I have the world in front of me, grabbing at any word I have to say.
audience
your eyes on me,
I watch you…
watching me.
I can see the faint reflection
in your eyes,
my smile,
you captivate me.
In your eyes,
I see nothing more..
than positivity!
this is my life…
but please lend,
your audience to me..
the audience jumped from their seats every time the magician put a new sword in. then, when the assistant came out alive they all applauded with joy.
identify your audience to find your voice – i can’t find my audience, I cant find my voice – I have no audience I have no voice – no one will listen – I have something to say – I cant get it out – I am afraid of my audience and afraid of my voice –
my audience will not lay down on my pillow, nor will it wake in my arms – my voice was with me when I was born and it will be with me when I die –
I must live for my voice – i must identify my sound – it is my voice that must lead – my audience will not always be around
I was nervous. Sweating even. I hate the audience. The way they stare. The way they hold their breath. The masses, just waiting to be entertained. By you. By me. By anyone. I take a nervous breath and step onto the stage.
A quick jab at the man’s weight. The look of sadness in his eyes as I bring up his failing marriage, his cruel and out of control children. Old news.
I conjure up all my creative might, notice the suitcase hidden under his desk, and venture that he’s living in the office. Tears glisten in his eyes, everyone laughs.
What a coffee break.
A theater filled with people watching a performance, sitting mesmerized, connecting to the performers and clapping and having tears in their eyes.
The pulsing beat crept down the stairs and up the walls, painting the walls with the intricate melody. It slithered down the columns, flooded the tiled floor and chained the audience to their seats.
Your face is such an audience to my lasting sense of doubt.
You drag me through the gutters with your eyes, your mouth, your snout.
And when I try to breathe, you pull me down below
And whisper “No one loves you like I hate you” before delivering a blow.