My Radio
Suddenly, my radio has stopped!
Wow! What a weird sensation.
My day has no noise,
There is no more fun,
No more new wave, jazz, blues, nostalgia,
no more light or heavy rock,
samba, reggae or beat.
No tango, no bolero
and without the "two steps here, two steps there,"
I'm left with one ordinary routine
like those we pray for finishing
because there is no pagode, waltz, swing.
My radio is quiet
and I'm totally bored.
There is nothing interesting
as if the lovers' heat has frozen.
Time is passing slowly . . .
What is going on?
Recently it was fixed!
And its battery is new . . .
From here on, no more sound mind, no more laughs
it's a cold shower
that my radio is silent for some unknown reason.
I try everything: move it and swing it and hit it.
I open it, mess around with it
so much that it's bent.
It plays no melody . . .
it's closed up, mute, absorbed
like an empty church
with the silence of those who give up,
I think, my radio is dead.
Patricia Evans
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
