Even sleep can't,
Exempt from the
reach of deaths,
Deaths, guarantee.
The mutes fingers signed frantically, as if, flags
In a gust, as if...
The mute signs,
speak no evil,
I not.
The deaf signs too,
Heard no evil,
Cause hearing,
I comprehend
Not,
As if, ears
never loved,
Listening, as
if music is a
nine to five,
and sound,
Is static,
mesh to
hum a lifeless,
Untune melody...
(Elaborate! Imitates, a voice in the crowd.)
I Ray Ban, some incidents,
gentlemen's
name, Charles,
Maestro, of
word,
wired,
In windes,
As if, of
a packed
winch,
which,
Shard, to
bards...
Gentle mans
Name like,
Charles couldn't,
Spectrum-Ray,
outside the facilities,
of charol grey,
Anyday he fancied,
He said, from sea
horse, spitting,
Splatters of DNA,
In micro platters,
He said, proudly,
I see no evil, as
if, as if
The first
stone cast,
Was the main,
Protagonist,
Demeaning,
and demanding,
answers of,
questions asked,
Since the conception,
of men...
And women....
What does,
an untitled,
Poem mean
to me that it,
shan't be
named?
-Black Note.
YOU ARE READING
Three Poems plus a bonus.
PoetryA life weighed by tragedy is like a tattered book on a dusty shelf. Its pages, worn thin from countless readings, tell stories smudged by hands that clung too long, hearts too eager or too burdened to let go. Though cracked and frayed, the words end...
