Sounds whirling by, cacophonies of maddening variety.
The static-ridden singing of a distant festive speaker,
Wheels racing and engines wheezing through narrow alleys,
Incessant hammering of infinite nails in a new construction,
All so loud yet so subtle
A stupefying surging overload of senses.
Yet, despite the inviting vibrance of this chaos,
Despite this tuning torpid turbulence, my solitary silence stays,
Gritting it's urge to noise.
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Author:
Agantuk (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 31st, 2026 13:27
- Comment from author about the poem: sound and silence become the same after a while
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 10
Offline)
Comments1
I hear the blur of noises in this poem blending into a constant hum and the static that lays in the background. It is modern, technological, overwhelming yet forgotten and unnoticed in its habituation. A lovely piece
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