Peadar O’Donoghue

21st century crescendo

Noise, noise, noise everywhere,
no escaping the hum, the buzz, the bite,
the pressure cooker boiling,
the kettle raging.
It would drive you insane,
the late summer screeches of
the drug dealers clapped out Clio,
the deafening despair of
future children doomed,
the tumult of the first fallen leaf,
pneumatic drills and car alarms,
ice cream vans wailing
“Stop me and buy”.

Grey dogs howling,
black dogs barking,
sleepless nights spent listening,
waiting for morning and
credit cards statements
crash landing on the mat.
Overdue this, interest on that,
familial nags, begs and moans,
euros slipping unsilently
through our hands, shiny new
BMW’s shout “look at me”
in the car park with insulated
air conditioned quiet inside.
Upgrades and laptops snigger in shop windows
and though you cover your ears
the worst of the noise is inside your head,
and when people walk soft into rivers and lakes
and under trains and over cliffs,
when they are noosed and loosed, when they are blown to a million pieces
with their own gun,
I wonder if all they seek
is the stopping of the noise.

 

Peadar O’Donoghue is a full time insomniac and part time spaceman. He also edits and produces The Poetry Bus Magazine. His poems or photographs have appeared in magazines and online including Poetry Ireland Review, The SHOp, The Stinging Fly, Revival, Magma, The Dubliner, Village, Bare Hands Poetry and Can Can. His first collection, Jewel, will be published by Salmon Poetry this year.