That’s how this machine works

There’s how I don’t answer the phone, and how I sometimes like to lie down on the floor in the kitchen and pretend I’m not home when people knock. There’s daytime silent when I stare, and a nighttime silent when I do things. There’s shower silent and bath silent and […] car silent and then there’s the silence that comes back, a million times bigger than me, sneaks into my bones and wails and wails and wails until I can’t be quiet anymore. That’s how this machine works.

Ada Limón, excerpt from “The Quiet Machine”, in Bright Dead Things: Poems 


Notes: Portrait by Lucas Marquardt @ About Ada. Passage via antigonick

22 thoughts on “That’s how this machine works”

  1. Have always marveled at the many distinct forms of silence. The silence of a welcome retreat…a quiet,cool room best suited for a Sunday afternoon nap….versus the silence of one’s home after beloved family and friends have departed. So very different….

  2. There are so many levels of silence. Some comforting, some not so much. Love this.
    Can’t say I’ve ever tried to hide from whomever at the door, though!

      1. Why am I not surprised? I don’t hide… I just don’t answer 😉 Not that anyone who knocks isn’t expected, really so …

      2. Dave, a tall man, who posses wit & confidence,greets life on his own terms, who hides…you hiding, make me think of a bashful boy of yesteryear…and I smile…

  3. Reblogged this on It Is What It Is and commented:
    I also have a ‘aquiet machine’ … I can see myself doing the same!! … “That’s how this machine works.” — Ada Limón, excerpt from “The Quiet Machine”, in Bright Dead Things: Poems.

  4. What Lori and Dale expressed about the types of silence…I agree with their POV’s…///
    Growth within Silence is a gift…

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