Haven’t written a poem for a while, but this has emerged in the last few weeks. Very much a sensory response manifesting out of my studies into my actual encounters & affiliation with a world of objects, object-sound, object-smell, object-taste.

between noisescapesilence
the extractor fan           in the bathroom
  is too loud     its             loudness has be-
    come an agentic                property,  I cannot see it otherwise than
      emerging out                       of brokenness. hearing:seeing.
        it has affected a                     trajectory            revealed a gap
          between it                                & a noisescape of disrepair.
            something has                              taken       a turn
              a hand played                             in anticipation.
                this is volume                          territory. the sound
              has surpassed                        all expectation.
            a broke-drone                       freakishly ornate
          in flakes of                          human skin
       & breath                             & germ.          cracking its knuckles
    as if to read                         the atmosphere
 of grey rooms:                 agencyactormeshworkfreak
Posted by:DPM

DPM is an idea-logue (sic) and object-oriented speculative realist, attempting to be response-able in an irresponse-able society.

8 thoughts on “between noisescapesilence

  1. Love this – “cracking its knuckles / as if to read the atmosphere / of grey rooms”!

    1. Thanks Lynne. Trying to estabish a functional method for utilizing the space on the page while retaining strong rhythm & making it somehow relevant to an object oriented ontolgy.

  2. Yes, I like the look of the poem! It’s been awhile since I played with page space in this way, you may inspire me to go at it again. It really does amplify silence, slows everything down to the world of a word or two, at least for me.

  3. Reminds me of that Jaar song, “Space Is Only Noise if You Can See”; and “as if to read the atmosphere of grey rooms” is… so very good. The poem gives me that sensation of sensorial abstraction, as if your conscience has infolded upon itself, in those anechoic moments where thought and space distend themselves and you sense, nearly dislodged, the innervation of particles and cells, and nothing is formed, nothing appears.
    Until something — the smallest thing — brings you back into being.
    I love that sentiment, and I likewise love this poem, as I generally do all your work, Daniel.

    1. I love Jaar. & I love how insightful this & all your comments are. Interestingly, this year I have begun to listen to more electronic/ambient music, in tandem with studying critical theory & contemporary philosophy. & I am slowly trying to integrate it into the aesthetic the few people who read me know me for. A sort of Theodore Roethke if he was an object oriented ontologist. It will take time, but this is a nascent effort here today. As always thanks for the encouraing words, they galvanize me.

  4. I left the slidey be, so as to appreciate the concreteness of the incomplete words/lines. But then I would, wouldn’t I.

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