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The Noise

the people of this world has produced so much noise
the honk, the fan, the sirens,
all these machines that pierce the ears of silence
all these restlessness
making holes in our hearts

i know, you are not loved
and there is so much noise from your pains
the miseries that seek the company of more miseries
i know you have loved much
much greater much painful than you can even afford to give

the babbles, the ramblings, the rattling of the bones
stripped of their flesh
the restless mind looking for the cure
these aches in every corner of the mind
drink some glasses of hard liquor
take the analgesics of other friends
on the same boat with you

the noise is too much
unbearable in fact not only to our ears
but the protest of all our senses

but wait, try this, this sacrifice
that sits on the corner of this nook
silently talking to itself
the irony of loving and being hurt
the tragedy of the smile
that you force upon your mouth
the upper lip that kisses the lower lip
your hands may caress all that you are
your mind shall rest
in the soft comforting bosom of your heart

try this unprotesting silence
and the noise dies
then you have triumphed
the contentment of your loving arms
embracing no one
but the self that you have accepted
as your friend

the noise leaves, the silence lies
like that beautiful lady waiting on your bed

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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