Image: Canva Pro
At a point of no return, love, intimacy, shadowed by its counterpart. A world had been calling attention to itself, silent, spaced, still, stuck. You saw it again for what it was, all blistered and blustered, And some things too quiet to hear, unlike hooves of wild horses. The way affairs survived in a certain state, of course, seemed miraculous. Nothing mattered, least of all this, always something that could be saved. What do I know of a man’s destiny? Only dust and fragments. White noise followed by white noise. White noise, who needs white noise?
Wonderful poem, Davy. “All blistered and blustered” love that line.
Thank you, Priscilla, that is most appreciated. Glad you enjoyed the poetry.
This is a masterpiece, Davy. You’ve captured the human condition at its rawest best. White noise – lucky or unlucky those who have escaped it. The image is wonderful too. Loved it. 🙂
Thank you for your supportive words, Terveen. White noise can inspire or hinder a writer. Perhaps writing is the human condition? It feels like it most days. Glad you enjoyed the poetry.
“White noise”… I will go reread it because it’s provokes my thoughts. Thank you!
There is a good film, White Noise, in the horror genre. I think that may have been in my mind when I wrote this.
😃
I reread it. Your poetry is raw, yet sophisticated. ♥️
Thank you. Your heartfelt comments are most appreciated.