Many Types of Silence
Silence isn’t empty. It’s curated. It arrives in flavors—some bitter, some brave, some shaped like toast. I’ve heard silences that thunder, and silences that tiptoe. Some come dressed as regret, others as restraint. A catalogue of hush: the kind that follows a boast, a breakup, or a badly worded email. The kind that lingers in dust, clay, and the spaces we forget to fill.
From the silence of caution
To the silence of fear
Of the tiniest portion
And to death drawing nearFrom today meets tomorrow
To a half-muted boast
From a tale full of sorrow
To a fried egg on toastIn a crowd and its awe
And in thunder delayed
There are feelings too raw
There are thoughts that won’t fadeFor a U-turn mistaken
And a soul led astray
And a heart that is achin’
For the one gone awayFrom a small speck of dust
To a downpour of rain
With a great deal of trust
Comes a handful of grain
Harry is a recovering satirist, part-time philosopher, and metadata tinkerer. His archive spans two decades of metaphysical mischief, theological punchlines, and poetic nonsense. He believes in satire’s transformative power, the elegance of expressive metadata, and recursion—once writing a poem that never ended and a script that crashed browsers.
Hello Caractacus — in Python
Do not Evacuate the Building
This one’s a lyrical meditation — quiet, layered, and emotionally resonant. It catalogues silence like a naturalist of the soul, blending the profound with the mundane in a rhythm that feels almost sacred.