Posts Tagged ‘ sound ’

Why we need an absence of noise to hear anything important | Aeon Essays

Wild geese in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, New York City, USA, 2017. Photo by Rebecca Norris Webb from the book Brooklyn, the City Within with Alex Webb/Magnum Photos

Our cities are filled by the hubbub of human-made noise. Where shall we find the quietness we need to nurture our spirit?

Source: Why we need an absence of noise to hear anything important | Aeon Essays



Mid-July morning rain falls clapping among oak leaves. Woodpeckers queue on tree bark for suet cake in view. black cat cries. Watching from inside he cannot help himself. Twitterings, chirpings, staccato rasps, glissando uproar


highway drones

through morning birdsong

mournful undertow


Donna Fleischer
indra’s net, bottle rockets press, 2003

Daily Haiku: Feb. 7, 2020 | Charlotte Digregorio’s Writer’s Blog

mountain moonrise
the sound I didn’t know
I had in me
by Peter Yovu (USA)
The Heron’s Nest, Vol. 7, 2005

Source: Daily Haiku: Feb. 7, 2020 | Charlotte Digregorio’s Writer’s Blog

Bill Viola Interview: The Tone of Being – YouTube

鈴 / bell – YouTube

Ryuichi Sakamoto: My friend, a very young Japanese artist called Soichiro Mihara, after Fukushima he created a very beautiful piece [Bell, 2013] related to radioactivity. He modified Japanese traditional furinfurin is wind chime in Japanese—but in his piece, the wind chime does not pick up wind but radioactivity. Passing the radioactive particles, it will ring. So I think that’s the best piece after Fukushima.

Ryuichi Sakamoto in The Brooklyn Rail, June 2018

Gigi Masin / To Rococo Rot – Die Dinge des Lebens / Clouds (1999)

I Wanna Take You Haibun by Scott Watson




Is it that we envision a godhead liar? A god we’re indebted to for our living a lie?


There is nothing in the world left to believe. It’s a shock. No more lies. They’re all believed up.


Still we wait in line at a lie station. Creatures of habit. Even then it’s self service. Used to be “fill’er up, buddy,” now we’re the father of our own lies and must lie to ourselves (such a burden): “I’m really happy!” “This is the greatest country in the world.” “We are a free people.”


Tell ourselves “our boys” are not “over there” killing and dying for lies, our durable linoleum lies.


Because we’re pumped up now. We have full tanks of prehistoric death. Death from the land before time when there must have been real life.


When all lies are gone there’s no more world. Nothing to identify. Where are we? Then our lie-life lines are broken. We are lost. Then we are living on empty. Emptiness like nothing in our pockets, with only life in our lives, to die freely.


Old pond
lives for




emergent story by Katie Yates

of dizziness, sexuality & circles around @ streetcorners, city-life, under-explained, trips into, foreclosure, definitiveness, color that is sound for today. 

emergent story by Katie Yates.

Lydia Davis Can and Will | HTMLGIANT


Lydia Davis Can and Will | HTMLGIANT.

Peter Gizzi: In Defense of Nothing: Selected Poems, 1987–2011 | Lemon Hound

Peter Gizzi: In Defense of Nothing: Selected Poems, 1987–2011 | Lemon Hound.

Understanding the Poem, by Amy King / – Amy King – Poetry.