Skip to main content

B is for Selection

Filling an ipod with sounds
That cannot
Be heard

It gets lost in the throng of thongs and misguided dreams
It gets hustled and hurried by a swift sound and a honking car
Yet it fights
It fights hard and long to keep up its own song

The mind will act as its own receiver
Raising its volume so that the listener can hear
So that the listener can be pleased

Is it all in vain?
The simply profound sounds of the sound, filled in an ipod
All because
The external will not silence
And the internal will not zone out.

Is it all in vain?
And dare I ask…

Who’s fault is it anyways?
The ipod, limited voice, desperately raised in the ear of man
Or the programmer, who continues to place such soft sweet tones

Added combat in a jungle concrete…
Tracy j H


Popular posts from this blog

Play of the Week WK #6

B is for The Haunting October

--> I first felt it in the shower. Nostalgia. Creeping up my leg and resting on my shoulder. Bony fingers caresses in that sickeningly sweet way nostalgia often does. It was the end of September or the beginning of October... That night in the shower when I remembered an old October, reading poetry at a wine factory; with sandwiches as big as your face. And I remembered two tables. Friends and a girl. And it was October. The sealing of fate. 2008.
Days passed but not before the memory of darkness and a knife. The surgery that changed me... And it was October. October or go to Heaven. 2007.
Time passed and so did my expectations. Fluctuations in blood flow in the head causes heart to flutter for another. Infatuation of the highest order. The beginning of tears and sighs of"it's not fair" and the wandering nature of soul; I'm done, turn me over. And it was October. All my queries I vowed to shelve. 2012.
And Sunday. When I threw the scroll and claimed I was don…

The TOP FIVE Disaster Movies EVER! A We Are Tracy Editorial