Fasting Silence

Sometimes you feel homeless even if you have home. You don’t want to go home. It bites you. You see, hear and feel through your all senses spider webs of voicelessness.

Even the walls of your home laugh at you. You feel you are on the journey of fasting silence in the ship of speechlessness. You find wind is not blowing. You feel tongue is not whistling.

Life becomes old black & white movie-you see the images, and they talk through lips but you can’t hear through ears but through eyes.

In mist of muteness you sense whispers of the desires of beauty, love, and adventures in the cave of apathy bounded in alienation.

You gaze sound of narcissist.

You feel it.

Yet you also become mute and nub-“just let it go” song said

“I hold it true, whate'er befall” –I buried it that’s true-

–I buried it that’s true-

One martini and two rounds out of nowhere on the Sixth Street at mid night-

I walk home –with sound of my footsteps-

I sing a loud –I buried it that’s true-

I buried it that’s true-let us not be beast at least -

I buried it that’s true-let us not be beast at least-

Austin, Texas –January 28, 2011------