Poet's Tea

August 27, 2004

Waiting on the doorstep

Waiting, on the doorstep
aligned with the wall
in diagonal form
time
is
nothing:-
graciously, it passes. slowly.

of all the places to sit,
near Kilburn's heartside - would not have been my choice

time
holds
everything

dreams are punctuated by the
opening engines' roar of burning
oil. Glad am I it has not
rained upon these greyish
streets;
treading though,
ever so near, to
pouring storm.

August 26, 2004

early evening

Golden
The light falls
Cross-fading
Onto the clutter

August 24, 2004

Downpour

The clouds open
your door
A refuge
From the deluge,
Our drips
On your floor
Go unoticed
In the presence
Of this polished
Possibility;

Tidiness
amongst the storm.


Ever the salesman.

August 23, 2004

Exeter St Davids - London Waterloo

I attempted to end this snapshot from my journey with a positive stanza (the workers push the train boss under the train etc etc) but it's late and my rhyming facility somewhat diminished on account of a song called 'fx man' roaming freely about my thoughts with wild abandon. Suggestions on how to end the poem would be appreciated...

The Train Boss

The Train Boss has stolen your lunchbreak
Theived your sarnies from under your feet
The Train Boss has taken your ten-minute stop
for a quick cuppa tea and a seat.

Sitting on high in a warm leather chair
The train boss dictates to the crew
Timetables tickets and being on track
Are far more important than you.

Bastard.

August 19, 2004

Desktop Dreams

Dozing at my desktop,
Drifting off elsewhere,
Dreaming of bed when it’s not even 12,
I stare,
Consider the void
Above the screen
And fake
Engagement.

August 18, 2004

Revealing how I'm feeling isn't my darjeeling...


...I keep my cards so near my chest
even I can't see the way I feel.
I used to be closer to my emotions
or maybe they were close to me.
In the past I've been very open
the last time was when I was twenty-three
months.
They say bashing pillows is beneficial
and it helps to hug a tree.
They say problems shared are problems halved
but they don't say it to me
because revealing how I'm feeling it isn't my Darjeeling.


I would agree with Mr John Hegley on that one, (his website, poems and amusing noticeboard can be found on johnhegley.co.uk .)

Revealing how I think other people are feeling, however, is something of a hobby - with poetic charicatures an excellent pastime for any journey...

Waiting room jive

Are you playing
with your feet
Or are they tapping
on their own
There seems to be
Some unknown beat
That quietly - you jive
Alone.

District Line

Pained
You run your fingers lightly
On the tense curve of your shoulder.
Eyes bolted shut
You nod to yourself
Affirming your thoughts.

Talking of travelling and poetry, there is a purple poetry book travelling around the world as a 'travel bug' being filled with different people's poems as it hops from cache to cache... the multitude of multilingual verse can be read on the purple poetry website.