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this side of the music

Sirens.
Night and day. Day and night,
interrupting the silence with its severe music.
It's the city and we share the same space. C-town
never sleeps in its emergent paths; what makes
news, to whom and who cares enough to go along
for the ride.

The world, my friend, is a long-distance runner, running until
there's no more time. Don't we hold on to each second like
unwilling warriors, consoling the hours?

There are many thieves amoung us. There are too many
borders. We live on this side, dying into that.

The music plays on but no one listens.

Last few words: 
C-town is a nickname for Cleveland.
Editing stage: 

Comments

Although rather depressing, I can accept the viewpoint. I have to believe however, that not everyone isn't listening. I'm no optimist, but life is lighter if I pretend.
Is this poem specifically about Cleveland or life in general? I vote Cleveland as that's what I get from the poem, but knowing you a little I might wager on the larger picture. Or dual meanings. I've answered my own question haven't I?
Oh, and "among" has a typo.
wesley

W. H. Snow

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Hi Wesley, thanks for the read and message. Yes, it is about Cleveland AND the larger picture. I, however, am the eternal optimist, I truly feel that humans are an evolving species and we're just going through *growing pains*. (I'm the perpetual kid in a room full of horse shit looking for the pony.)

~A

(I add the u in amoung, amoung other words as a nod to the Brit spellings. I've always gravitated
to the UK, absolutely adore the accents...it's so proper, and I'm so....not. lol.)

author comment

I lived in Medina Ohio in 2003. We often got into Cleveland (mostly to the Hard rock Cafe) I can relate to this piece having lived in Minneapolis for a number of years. A very hard nightlife to be found. I really enjoyed these lines:

The world, my friend, is a long-distance runner, running until
there's no more time. Don't we hold on to each second like
unwilling warriors, consoling the hours?

always, Cat

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...the British spell "among" with a "u"? That's so cool. I'm descended from English aristocracy. What the hell am I doing in California? wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

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