I get up to pee. It’s early still, the house is quiet.
I live alone. What changes from night to day. Is it outside noise—cars, birds, neighbours?
I realize I’m still sitting on the toilet for no reason, just lost in sound and silence.
I live alone, where does the sound come from?
I flush. Onomatopoeically speaking, flush is not particularly accurate. It’s too gentle for such a violent sound—rushing water gulping air, desperate for the return of calm.
I’ve broken the seal, sound floods in. Who says “onomatopoeically speaking” anyway?
I hear the furnace rev up, readying to deliver the day’s warmth. Heat is energy and so is sound. It’s more than just fan noise. In the cold there is silence, in the warmth there is sound.
My body is humming.
As if mocking my reverie, the music visualizer on my laptop is pulsing in an electric light show. Even in the silence there is sound expressed in light and shapes and flashes of darkness. I press the mute button and the sources of the vibrant show suddenly flood my ear canals.
… The Yukon keeps me up all night
Complications seize your best…
Drums punctuate guitar riffs, rolling and stopping, pacing the vibrations as if the drumheads themselves were plucking the strings. Voices exchange words and sometimes interrupt. It is a love song. It’s on repeat and I replay the night before.
The ache returns.
____
Continue reading
I’m reposting a piece I wrote last year about the film The Iron Lady. It seems I’m not alone in my assessment:
Margaret Thatcher died today, but never shall her legacy.
Two square shapes
On one rectangle
Their sides rectangles too.
She reaches out
With her cylinders
And lifts an angle.
Her big circle stills
Her small circles
Rest on the squares.
Repeat.
She puts the sphere
Together
As though it could be taken apart.
Put together
Taken apart
Put together.
All that is left is to
Choose the colour.
This moment is hers
I pause
And this is my reward.
~Anonymous
Live within limits without limiting life
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They’re drifting
I thought they’d stay
I lose more
With each day
Half full
And my heart beats off and on
I pine and wane
Interchangeably
This is my fate
Brought on by me
Half full
And it seems I’m losing steam
We count the like
In the face of stars
It seems so small
But my heart is theirs
Half Full
And a solo is this song
A new beginning
Brought a new end
I have to start
To start again
Half full
And myself I have to blame
All that’s new
Seems permanent
I cannot see
A return again
Half full
And life here is unknown
Late at night
Voices the same
I cannot see
A logic game
Half full
And here I must remain
They said I’d turn
It could be so
I can’t predict
What’s left to show
Half full
And so I plod along
If you see
I’m there today
Please forget
What I might say
Half full
My thoughts are wicked friends
~Anonymous
Live within limits without limiting life
Follow me and check out my new blog! Meat Eating Vegans
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Live within limits without limiting life
Follow me and check out my new blog! Meat Eating Vegans
