Tag Archives: silence

Dark Matter

A story from out of the dark. First there was one voice, followed by a second voice … the dark twists itself into shapes and semblances. The dark is the clothing our ghosts wear. I have tried to acquaint myself … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Words and Silence

There’s no one left to finger, no one left to blame. Someone sang that. I wish I had sung that. I didn’t. I echo. I am echoes proliferating like genetically disturbed rabbits. Maybe neurodivergent rabbits copulating is a better term, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Domain

   Samuel Beckett tried to corral silence by making silence the domain of language. To not say anything, to ultimately embrace silence, would have meant an impossible task—setting down the pen, laying to rest the voice—and placing a moratorium on … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Dinner, No Voices

   I waited. We waited. A storm was coming. It had to be. He had returned from rehab several days earlier, after having been gone for two months. My father had always born pouchy bags under his eyes, but there, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Moratorium

I. Beckett spoke about it: the inability to keep quiet. The incapacity to not say stories, not write stories, not place oneself inside stories in which you make and unmake and remake yourself endlessly, an orgy of particles constellating jittery … Continue reading

Posted in Artwork, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Press, Prose, Theater | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Say What?

Survival Town was created outside of Las Vegas for the express purposes of being destroyed. The town was populated by mannequin families, who were curated and arranged in homes to model and mimic middle-class American values, ideals, and leisure. Democracy, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Less Said

I have no desire to sing tonight. This is the only line Samuel Beckett managed to write for a libretto which he abandoned. The smallest hours hold staggering volumes of silence.

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Beket

My name is Beket. That’s my first name, and my last. My mother was going to name me Becky, after some character in a novel she loved, but when she saw how silent I was as a baby (she said … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Dinner

   I waited. We waited. A storm was coming. It had to be. He had returned from rehab several days earlier, after having been gone for two months. My father had always born pouchy bags under his eyes, but there, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Alone-In

She grew infintely wet, a throbbing void and pulsing slate of Braille and intent– subletting, by touch, urgent spells of hunger to a silent fast.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment