Posts tagged ‘hearing’

14/07/2013

6am, Sunday

 

A flickering of morning wings;

A wire buzz of starling flocks;

A distant dog which echoes hills:

Vibrations of another day.

 

A tyre drone and clunking gears;

A martin pulling songs from mist;

Allotment cockerels blaring dust:

My eyes are shut, I feel the sounds.

 

The Sunday papers brought by van;

The jackdaws of a hundred eaves;

The voices raised some streets away:

Each sound has found its space in me.

 

The air is shimmering with life:

Despairing, yearning, joyous life.

 

 

14/05/2013

Hyperacusis (II)

 

Within the plastic twists and shifts

Of spectra split from screech to hum,

Unravelled sounds of empty rooms

Are splayed across our emerald selves.

 

The waterfall of pressure waves,

Cascading foam, neuronal sweeps,

Are rushed back through the feedback loops

And pour again with greater force.

 

The energy of the air unleashed,

And time again yet more release:

The sapphire bands, the ruby wreaths.

 

The vicious proof of life made raw,

Through light, through sound, through screams:

With at the end a gasping mind.

 

 

13/05/2013

Always Four

 

Between the branches on the beech

She sees a star and shivers.

She gathers in her dressing gown

And closes tight the curtains.

 

The floor is cold, the room is poised,

A creaking board the single sound

Besides the tinnitus which whines.

Outside the wind is dying down.

 

Her eyes are heavy, full of sleep.

She stands and waits for thoughts to break

The pounding of the still.

 

The clock, which stopped a while ago,

Restates the time when timing ceased.

She bows her head and shuts her eyes.

 

 

12/05/2013

Hyperacusis (I)

 

The opposite of deaf is deaf.

 

The screeching spines inside your head,

The spiral labyrinth of drills,

Igniting spikes of sound and pain.

 

The lances pierce your amygdala.

Your lizard mind lies whining back.

The neurone contours spit and flail.

 

The opposite of deaf is deaf

 

At night the echo pins are pricked

To vent the agonies of angels

Through the diamond points of scars.

 

And every slightest scratch sets off

A pulse of blood to silence words.

When deaf the noises never stop.

 

 

24/07/2012

The Song of Ondine (The Cost)

 

She wasn’t singing for the Earth,

She wasn’t singing for the Air,

She wasn’t singing for our lives,

So no, we didn’t hear the song.

 

But villages were swept away,

And islands sank beneath the waves,

And deltas spread and countries shrank,

And still we didn’t hear the song.

 

And drinking water filled with salt,

And wars were fought for muddy wells,

And millions were left to rot,

And still we didn’t hear the song.

 

Our links have broken, language lost,

Without the song we count the cost.