Poem 279 – The Poet of Sound

Quiet, the hum of that engine.
My pen scratches the page.
The woollen sleeve scraping against the paper.
The hum louder, a roar.
Clattering, a thing is thrown.
A car drives by, another, two more.
The first sound rushes by.
Another senseless noise,
From a few fleeting seconds,
In the raging city.

***

Dear readers,

I cannot recall who was first described to me as “the poet of sound”. It might have been Rilke or Baudelaire. If you know, do let me know – or if you have any particularly good poems about sound that you wish to share, feel free to share them.

Kind regards,

The Hapless Neo-Romantic

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