Where there is random noise there can be no rhythm.
It's almost spiteful how shrieks and unrepentant humming
Put to death anything unified or hopeful.
Nothing against noise. No, boisterous sound can carry a family
Or even a nation.
But both are wearied to frustration,
Deadened by tuneless tintabulation.
If you must make your voice heard, make it sweet
Give a man's ears something good to eat.
Make it potatoes or creme brulee,
But don't ruin a God-given day.
Thursday, March 9, 2017
A red door is... striking.
A red door is bold.
A red door will beckon youIn from the cold.A red door gets openedWhen you've got the key.But it isn't much helpWhen the key is with me.A red door takes mailOn the days that it comes,And sometimes graffitiWhen found in the slums.But this door is special,Whate'er it appears,Because it's my Granny'sAnd has been for years.