The power goes out at 9:30 AM and I am woken by the absence of sound.
No rumbling of the compressor from the air conditioner,
No rushing of air through the purifier,
No trickling of rain generated by the sound machine,
Just silence and stillness.
But chaos ensues minutes later.
People emerge from their houses like ants driven from their nests,
Congregating at the nearest corner,
Searching for an explanation.
There needs to be an explanation, an immediate resolution.
Why did the power go out? When is it coming back?
I watch and listen from my living room window,
Having no interest in being caught in the web of unwanted conversation.
I am just a spectator of the spectators.
It seems they are only concerned about the inconvenience to their day,
Not about the woman who crashed her car into the utility pole.
From the corner, they watch the parade of emergency vehicles,
The ambulance, the fire trucks, the police cars.
Followed by the string of utility trucks from the electric company.
For a while, they stand there talking and spectating,
The commotion is the only form of entertainment available now.
Eventually, as the initial excitement subsides,
The droves retreat back into their empty homes.
The silence releases the unwanted noise, the one they avoid.
The one that sparks and spreads like a virus of the mind.
One that is easily controlled,
But only when they are shuttered inside,
Drowned by the static and the hum,
Emanating from the wires within the walls,
Traces beneath the trees,
Strings across the sky.
No longer tethered to their screens, they are lost and left wandering.
They have no devices but their own thoughts.
It’s a dangerous thing when they lose their vices,
Their addictions, their obsessions.
The power goes out and the sanity of others goes with it.
Some flee their homes like they can't stand to be trapped there.
Others roam aimlessly outside,
Trying to be productive in the yard.
Some struggle with the loss of power,
But others embrace it.
They open the windows and welcome the fresh air,
Enjoying the silence,
The absence of artificial noise and distraction.
Only in times without power,
Do their minds truly run free.
A loss of electrical current triggers a different type of flow.
Creativity flourishes when it is no longer bound by invisible constraints.
One person's loss is another one's gain.
About the Creator
Alyssa Nicole
A toxicologist who secretly hopes to be a full-time author. One novel in progress with too many other ideas taking up space in my head until I get around to writing them. Some of those ideas end up here.
Instagram: @alyssa.n.mussowrites
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Comments (3)
This poem is really good, Alyssa. The part about no one caring about the woman who crashed her car speaks so true about todays society. I swear if there’s ever an apocalyptic event, the world will end to the tune of people recording it on their cell phones.
Oooo, that last line is soooo true! Loved your poem!
Amazing work! You really touch on all of the senses so well in your writing, I could see and hear and feel every single detail.