A silent Violation—
the flood in the city
“Screens are screaming stereotypes.
Seamless sounds seem less safe.”
The daily scenes calm my heart,
the daily news grazes my peace.
Breaking news breaks my breath.
I search for a glacier to stand on,
the others chase the traces of “stars”.
People chase a stream of posts,
my posts draw a line to my friends.
I see so many shifting sights,
so sick of these sound seesaws,
swinging from the silence to the scream.
The sounds of egos keep echoing,
soft words surrender to that sound.
We always follow “what’s new”, now,
without a glance at the recorded past.
I’m lost in too many sounds.
This world moves too fast,
with waves of heavy noise
through the urban frame.
Red lights drift on
the urban blue and gray —
artificial hum
and a thin metallic smell.
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Does regulation mean isolation?
Interfaces shift their phases.
I hope to know their notes.
I am surrounded in gray fog.
Colorless crowds fill my sight,
wearing dark whispers
and a flood of artificial scent.
Shift my phase, right now.
I seek a brief rest, a silent space,
or a slight break,
holding a few warm cups,
like an ordinary morning.
I hope to be the first of a flock
and the last of the few,
carrying a small airy warmth,
floating down onto the still water,
leaving a cool scent of blue peppermint,
reaching a perfume of ivory chamomile.
Fly into the sky, free, holding my wish.
Thank you for reading. See you next Monday.
2026suffe@gmail.com
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I sincerely appreciate your gentle respect for the quiet space of this world,
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