Silence is the conch shell, discarded Skin of a sea creature, within Whose curlicues those most fearful Of criticism curl, fetal position.
Silence doesn’t exist. John Cage In a fully padded, acoustocated Room, heard a rhythmic pounding. What he heard was his own heart.
So even in complete withdrawal From the world, no one can escape Hearing their own heart. And why Would anyone not want to hear What the heart has to say?
Silence is the conch shell, discarded
ReplyDeleteSkin of a sea creature, within
Whose curlicues those most fearful
Of criticism curl, fetal position.
Silence doesn’t exist. John Cage
In a fully padded, acoustocated
Room, heard a rhythmic pounding.
What he heard was his own heart.
So even in complete withdrawal
From the world, no one can escape
Hearing their own heart. And why
Would anyone not want to hear
What the heart has to say?
Dr. Mike
Disposable poem September 15, 2013