That Noise Poem by Scott J. Shepard

That noise? Yah, I've heard it before
They gave it a name
Then tucked it away in the depths of some distant mind
On a barstool at the Meson de la Flota in Havana
There was no medicine for the rumbling sounds
The stomping Revolucion's heel and sole
Begging for a bite to eat.

North fare some America
Somewhere on the city streets of Minneapolis
Officers patrol with their shields and batons
The lambent flame grows brighter in protesters eyes
A man could barley breathe beneath the knee of law
So the fire grows across a nation abroad

The mortar shells, tiny explosions upon Taif agreements
Some strange form of coexistence
Middle earth, where powers struggle like two hands
Pulling the ends of rope
The people of Beirut dance on rubble and stone
As a military romanticize the corrupt

Every year in The Peoples Republic,
A woman sings this very same song, Cantopop notes
The sounds can be heard from miles away
as one nation evolves and swarms
like bee's to their hive

Yes, that noise I've heard it before
They gave it a name
Then tucked it away so no one would hear it again
It cried for salvation and begged for surrender
It put on a smile and walked away into the night,
Content with irony and anger.
It fought its demons, and sparked madness in the mind
It walked alone, then in crowds, then alone again
And reappeared, its angry cry rose from its bottledneck

Yes, I've heard that noise before
It's the sound of mortal motive
The sound of emancipation
Unrestricted, without detention.

That noise,
Yes, I know that noise well
Its loud, and I've heard it far too many times before.