Each circle is a story
Sci-Fi poem | 36 lines
If they couldn’t hear the voices,
The sound of incessant noises,
In the ears buds that replaced
Nature’s hum with discords of whispers,
All would feel askew.
If the transmissions failed,
The late night workers bailed
From the satellite towers,
That did indeed tower the cities,
Havoc would come.
Because none want silence;
Silence revokes violence,
And in the words of philosophers
‘Where is the fun in peace?’.
Let misery rule.
Stones tap metal frame.
Knives pinch running wires.
And what is this? A monologue? An infection?
Booming from somewhere
Atop the satellite towers
That do indeed tower the city.
‘May all beings be happy’.
Families sit now on trampolines,
Listening beneath the plastic of those ear buds
To the lectures of ‘enlightened’ ones.
Until it fades.
A stillness falls,
Until children of savages bawl.
What was that deafness that was so beautiful?
That embraced the people as would relatives
Lost long ago.
But now where none hear the noises,
Of their siblings’ inner voices,
Hardened glances monopolise communication.
And all the while,
The hoopla crawls to her feet.