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Noise
by Lori St. GeorgeI step off
the platform
in the underground station,
high on the eve of elation.
Slicing
through the crowd.
Swimming between their feet.
Diving,
through the cement
coming up on the cold, cold street.
I am.
I am the equinox.
"You won't hear what I say."
Not in this night
and
never
in the light of
day.
Keys,
that opened locks
at that old house
tumble
like rocks
in my pocket.
I am.
I am restless.
They move,
slower with every
muscled infracted
beat.
Desolate children,
with naked faces.
Still breathing,
smoking
in their
own
static heat.
I am the sound
that machines
make
when they
sleep.
I am.
I am insomnia.
I am.
I am spun out so far.
I think
I see
your face
in the noise.
These trains
are no more than
my
childhood
toys.
I am.
I am the running dead.
With nothing
but
my legs,
and
your voice
on playback
inside
my head.
12/12/2010 Posted on 12/13/2010
Copyright © 2024 Lori St. George
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Stephan Anstey on 12/13/10 at 04:01 AM I am going to have to sleep on this one. There's a lot going on here. I think the use of rhyme is interesting, but the line breaks seem a bit over-done to me. I might just be wrong, i'm very tired. Regardless, this is serious poetry. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 11/12/15 at 06:05 PM Congrats on POTD! Intense movement in this one and that first stanza makes it almost fluid. Repetition of "I am" gives this a particular beat, compelling the words to be heard. |
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