Journeys

Heavy eyes are barely open,
head rocks from side to side -
bangs on scratched up window,
every few metres we glide.

Electrical screeching and scraping,
like heading off the rails,
the cold repetitive sound track
that every such journey entails.

Rapid eye movement out of window
as patterns and colours fly past,
random shapes becoming familiar -
concrete, metal, nettles and grass.

The sounds of the train somehow beautiful
They are beautiful ugly things
Like memories that matter - good or bad
Like coping despite life's little stings.

Although we all go through the motions,
with monotonous journeys we take,
we can always get on a different train -
change fate with decisions we make.

Reviews

[Damien Dsoul]

The poem's power lingers more on its impressionistic attractiveness and it's paradoxical message that's well outlined in its last line. I found it to be very intruiging and fulfiling.

[redd Brick Keshner]

Enjoyed the fluidity of your lines.
This poem was a pleasure to read.
Will make time to read more of your works.
Cheers.