What if it, what could it?
If it were to be.... could it then?
How if I say it? What were it? Then would it?
It doesn't. Not to be through with it.
This is for it, for it. What else can say it? Who?
Is it? (I mean, 'Innit'?)
Or perhaps, this wouldn't be it, couldn't see
through it, into the other.
Of the other, would it say it? Could it speak?
How would it dare speak it? What would it believe?
It could sing it. It sang it spoken. It didn't know not to.
This was how it opened, how the door opened to... everything.
Just now, it sings. Seemingly through it.
And never under it.
I felt it, through me, didn't know how not to.
This saw it. It. It .It.
Now I 'roll with it,' but left it fallen, to be lifted another.
And over it a drop. From a leaf. Rolls onto it.
Somehow sensed it...couldn't leave it behind.
I remember it. Dreamt it?
Open Call: Towards a New Descriptive Language of Sound
Went out into the hurricane a couple of days ago, listening to the 'pop' 'crack' of trees throughout the forest falling all around. The winds were heavy and roaring through the trees. Once could hear a heavy gust approaching as it blasted through the woods up the hill. I wanted to put all of this in words, but I realized that it was nearly impossible because it seems that the words don't exist. We need a word for the sound of a percussive strike or snap in the forest, because it is a particular kind of sound, as it rapidly reflects off of all of the trees (and leaves), it's like a million rapid fire echoes that give the sound a crisp, brittle quality.