a buzzing noise
by Charlie Morgan
not alone, cicadas rattling outside.
sitting at my electric post for the day;
constantly checking that horrid clock.
watching it eat up my time;
by the seconds and minutes.
one locust shell is my reflecting pond.
a sign of metamorphisis; of changlings?
was a clock responsible for his death?
the minute hand that dealt the final blow?
someone step forward; this cicada had a life.
someone stole it from him, from his family.
i want the culprit; probably my nemesis too.
one day my shell will be left, i will have gone.
i want to make a buzzing noise of life til then.
Posted on 07/22/2010
Copyright © 2019 Charlie Morgan
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 07/22/10 at 07:56 PM|
That second to last stanza says it all, man. Just beautiful.
|Posted by Joe Cramer on 07/22/10 at 11:34 PM|
|Posted by Shonda Creemer on 07/23/10 at 02:34 AM|
chaz...i love your buzzing...see above. ;)
|Posted by Paul Lastovica on 07/23/10 at 08:33 PM|
it's a strangely soothing noise =) this poem, your words, those locusts in the trees. Even, sometimes, the steady tick of the seconds hand.
|Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 07/24/10 at 08:54 PM|
that's all we can really do right, keeping buzzing until we can buzz anymore?
|Posted by Charles E Minshall on 07/27/10 at 11:03 PM|
There noise can be maddning at times, Good poem
|Posted by Ken Harnisch on 07/29/10 at 03:11 PM|
You need not worry, Charlie. Your words and your poetry make enough of a buzz that renders you too memorable to ever be an empty shell...in this world or the next.
|Posted by Maude Curtis on 07/29/10 at 08:19 PM|
Charlie. Buzz away we are all listening and when you are but only a shell we'll smile and say remember when.