Poessay: Rosary 8 - Voices In The Air

Do they hear voices? What if I write do they also hear voices? Shhh….speak softly. You know you do not hear voices out of ether. You hear and read looks, glances and thoughts. And interpolate, interpret and re-interpret. Have you forgotten who hears voices out of thin air? And what happens to them?

While in that room with monster speakers and dark-flashing strobes, heard the call. Not the grotesque rendering of fine verse and equally distorted rhythms but irresistible urges that lure you to the special peace of quiet, away from that oasis of cacophony. The headache caused by the palpitating strobes provided an excuse to leave.

The key in hand is an alien intruder in the lock. So I walk back to the front desk. 'You got the right key, Sir.' Hmmmmm. Maybe the building moved! The key works fine this time. Fetched a pen and some papers and walked back to the beach. Under a floodlight found a chair and started imprisoning fleeting thoughts.

An unbridled chasm between reality and logic bridged by words throbs.

Celestial lubrication.

But there is no PC, no laptop, just some photocopied papers where the reverse is write able. So started capturing them at random and am desperately trying to read and key in the words now.

Forget those words, focus on the thoughts. Capture the stray soldiers now, reflect upon the pincer movements later. Time enough to record the battles and wars.

What would they say?

Who cares was the first reaction. Depends on they too. Have never cared enough about them. So who cares holds.

Earlier:

Poessay: Rosary 1 - Pink Sand Beach
Poessay: Rosary 2 - Fishing
Poessay: Rosary 3 - Adam and Eve Limited - I

Poessay: Rosary 4 - Adam and Eve Limited - II
Poessay: Rosary 5 - Descending
Poessay: Rosary 6 - Dinner In The Park

Poessay: Rosary 7 - Under the Jamun Tree