Communion

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Communion

It had been a long
day already before we
turned back to the hostel.
Breaking for some white tablet
mint we stopped on some rocks.

In the rocks a white flower
nestled. It was as if
a divine hand had put it
there to share in the
pleasure of his creation.

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Waterloo and Beyond

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Waterloo and Beyond

The sliding doors close
with an hydraulic full stop.
From my chair I look up
for the flashing running man
whilst the whistle momentarily
deafens me.
No turning back, the
option has been deleted
as I clench inside.
An electric glide
crescendos into the
platform edge and we hit
the great, white yonder.
Clickety click and yet
more photos are chosen
for the album;
my other mother’s happy.

Waterloo

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Waterloo

I’ve been on this
platform for forty five years
and I’ve seen trains
come and go.
I can’t afford to
keep my options open
as this is the last
train tonight
and I don’t want to wait
till morning.

You however have time
on your side and could
probably sit on this
platform for another
two years with ease.
I’m sorry but I can’t wait
that long;
I’ve got a train to catch.

All at Sea

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All at sea

No three line whip. Even the adverts
and the tv merge into one homogenous
blob. The talking heads nod in agreement
between the channels and the chatter,
sound like a school play ground.

The length of string between me and
anyone with any importance seems to
be lengthening and I’m wondering if it’s snapped
or whether I’m watching the news
from an island in Hawaii.

My own thoughts rattle around
and this wretched dinghy they
put me on seems to be deflating
like the sorry mess this
has all become.

And now the wind has picked
up and the final breaker, breaks
over and sends me
to the watery grave that is this
endless advert break that they seem
to have on all good tv shows.