Courbevoie
I walked the streets of
Paris, le gay Pari’, though
no rainbow I saw; just the
gray that was beneath me,
my mind uneased by
the not knowing
the not speaking
them not speaking
the not quite belonging
not just yet – anyway
Walking in Paris
I walked
from bed to bath
down creaking stairs
of a shabby Paris
hotel
Passed passed-out
drunks and on to
Louvre – a sunny day
sun block was
bought
Through the trees and
the park up to the
arc so triumphant
an Italian wanted trade
leather for much needed
petrol; no, no, no
Down towards Seine
through smelly back-ways
I found myself lost
dreaming of riding
bareback to relieve the
pressure upon my feet
so sore
Towards the tower Eiffel
with snakes of fellow
Parisian I join the queue
for Northern lights but
patience ran out quick
I left
Onward and upwards
Trocadero in my grasp
the views not spectacular
but I would not miss them
for the world
Submission to the Metro
line 6 to Etoile
then further out to
Le Defense majestic in
its sight
With hope of rest my
day so ended, RER A back
to Les Halles my friend
no one waited, just the
open window of the
shabby Paris hotel
I stay in
thus far
You say “thus far”
implies
there is more to
come
as a promise
given
of more more
much more
but I say “thus far”
will only take you
here
no more will be given
except the final
stop – on its own
.
underground
You might say
I was a Toddler of
the Underground
The layers of
blankets wrapped
up harder so hard
I cannot say for
sure as the memories
are fading, I am
getting older and
the blankets long
gone go figure
You might say
I was a Child of
the Underground
Seeking solitude
among worms and
rotten bones
Comforted by moisten
soil beneath my skin
and echos of
silent dreams
I cannot say for
sure as the memories
are fading, I am
getting older and
the soil has washed
away, still dreaming
You might say
I was a Adolescent of
the Underground
Tunnelling deeper and
deeper into
becoming one
I cannot say for
sure as the memories
are fading, I am
getting older and
the tunnels
never ending
You might say
I was an Adult of
the Underground
Building my house
on solid foundations
should have been the
plan, now crumbling
I cannot say for
sure as the memories
are fading, I am
getting older and
with age comes
another burden
You might say
I will become the Hero of
the Underground
Rising above the petty
squabbles, embracing the
love I have so far
not bothered with
I cannot say for
sure as the time is
of limit but I pray
you are right and the
remaining days be
b.l.e.s.s.e.d
Prompted by a @reinventingwednesday prompt: underground
The Other Side
I long for The Other Side, where
the grass is green, and the apples hang
just within my reach, just so.
I long for The Other Side, where
the sea is still, but with a breeze to
keep me cool, and the seagulls sing
to please, if at all.
I long for The Other Side, where
the sky is blue when blue it so should be
the tears of god would only fall
through the night, so still.
I long for The Other Side, where
I can stand strong; alone, my voice
carry power, there where I would
belong.
I belong on The Other Side
(Prompted by a @thatrandomprompt prompt: The Other Side)
Untitled (4840)
It is full of words, stacked in piles too high for their own good, blown about by the turmoil of life and then set alight by the fire that once burned inside.
Me – trying to explain my blog to god
as if…
Pickles; Eric and jars full
awaiting layering upon a
midnight sandwich,
corned beef stacked on
cheese slices for a
perfect end to the
night
Static
The static of a black n white TV
after transmission’s ended.
(sizzling)
Outside the snow falling,
quietly building the piles
that made up my childhood.
(dreaming)
The chill inside; opposes
the flames from the fire place
logs chopped from birch trees
(stagnating)
The static of a black n white TV
became the pattern of
my life – sadly