Bus stop…

The smell of petrol fumes in the air masked my aftershave. The time was quarter passed two in the afternoon.

Over on the other side of the road was another bus stop. Cars, bikes and motorcycles were continuously zooming passed and even though I had been waiting for nearly half an hour now, it appeared that any bus was yet to come.

After all it was a Sunday.

The creeping threat of rain and the cold wind kept me in a petulant suspense.

The (dare I say) younger of the two ladies on the other side of the road kept standing up and sitting down as if she was playing a rather stagnant game of musical chairs. And no matter how many times she stood up and looked to the right again she could not summon the bus anymore quickly.

The older girl seemed keen to chat to her but she was seemingly and deliberately sat further down the stop as to avoid all the small talk and chitter chatter.

To be honest I felt sympathetic towards the older girl as she must have been lonely. Perhaps her husband had died. I pondered on this and soon began to question the solidarity of my own mortality.

I was soon distracted as my bus had finally arrived. I stood up and stuck out my hand. I was very much looking forwards to a cup off hot coffee and some chocolate biscuits.

After all there is no place like home…

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Loneliness (Sonnet)…

As love is lost and never comes to me

The cost of bitter life in crazy walls

I close my eyes to joy as tears may fall

although my eyes are dry so I may breathe

 

Relax and stay a while as longing seeds

Of deeds may shoot to flower, fruit and be

Of praise and wonderment so slim and tall

The waves of doubt will spread and knock them all

 

And back and forth and round and round it seems

And loneliness my friend on whom I call

to be my lover true it has been deemed

to death we both will wonder slow and sure

 

And as my muse a faded glance or cry

I know to not be loved but to despise

 

 

Lord knows (Sonnet)…

As time will change my eyes to dimmer hues

Of reds and blues to grays of distant shades

My brains by rage and ways of hate; consumed

I stay remaining hazed in bitter age

 

The lines will fade as circles turn to choose

The same ol’ fate too late to come anew

And well, inside this cage of mental states

I wait and wait and wait for it to break

 

I’ve tried Lord knows I’ll go to hell confused

My aches and pains deranged for heavens sake
My plate is full, I have a roof, I’m tame

And yet I feel frustrated and abused

 

I’ve tried Lord knows I’m slow to grow my joy

To tune the chords so I can be destroyed…

A cafe…

As soon as I opened the door I noticed the selection of gooey and colorful cakes in the cafe counter. I was terrified as I had only just began a low fat – low sugar diet.

I approached the que to the cafe counter and had a look around.

This place was smothered in pink paint and the furniture was plain in mahogany colors.

The sounds of clinking cups and customers chattering all merged into a blur suddenly fading as the dominating roar of coffee being made was the only sound which then faded into footsteps along the hard wood floor and keen writers typing away in their blogs and half finished projects on their laptops.

It was finally my turn to order and the pleasant warm aroma of ground coffee beans lured me into ordering a dark chocolate mocha. However I managed to resist the strawberry cheesecake, donuts and profiteroles which seemed to speak my name and scream at me to eat them.

The waitress smiled. She was in her early twenties. She was tall, thin and had long blond hair. After I had paid she said she would bring my drink over to me and smiled again.

I walked away and sat down at one of the tables, the chairs were very comfortable.

I looked up at the pink bookshelves and noticed a variety of neatly arranged books and board games, this place was homely.

I stood up and picked out a book of selected poems and sat down to await my hot dark chocolate mocha.

Desert house…

The house was hundreds of miles from anywhere. It’s dry cracked walls seemed as though they had been beaten by the harsh sandy wind for hundreds of years.

Sand surrounded the house for as far as the eye could see and clumps of tall dried grass stood out, dotted around the dry ground like lost beards.

The deep light blue sky above could have been a tropical ocean, consuming every drop of sweat from me with evaporation.

I took another step towards the house. My dry, hot, blistering feet sinking into the ground as it was quicksand.

I was hoping there was water here. I had taken all the water from my canvas bottle and even my tongue felt as dry as the ground below me.

My eyes were now like bee stings and my face was beaten and red.

As I got closer to the house I could see that there were tiles fallen from the roof. Another drowning footstep in the sand and I could see that the windows were smashed.

There was no one sat outside the building. Was anyone inside?

I took yet another grueling step forwards and as I steeped over a clump of dry grass my desperation for water and exhaustion had me crawling on my knees. The hot sand closer to my burnt face.

I finally got to the steps of the house and tried to shout to whoever may have been inside “Hello”. My shout was but a tired painful whisper.

I crawled up the steps and the door was as weak as I was and fell flat into the house with a single touch of my sore hand.

The house had been empty seemingly for several years. I crawled to the kitchen and desperatly pulled myself up to standing by the sink. I grappled with the tap and twisted it but all that came out was a tiny bit of sand…

 

Inner city pressure…

The face of the clock by the road side was smothered in dirt.

I was only half past ten in the morning and already I was frustrated with the traffic beeping their horns at each other and all the pedestrians whizzing past each other and nearly bumping into me. Attempting to tolerate the impatience of this demanding place left me anxious and hungry.

I walked quickly pacing to a hot dog stand and asked for a hot dog. “Onion” he said without a “sir” or a “would you like”. I handed over the two dollars with a mutual evil glare.

We may as well been telling each other to fuck off.

The light bouncing around from the windows of the gigantic buildings left my eyes sore from the reflected sunshine. The buildings were packed together like battery animals.

All the stores here were too expensive and a taxi ride to a local area with cheaper prices might get me murdered. I was stuck; crappy job, crappy place, crappy life.

I had time to go for an overpriced and pretentious mug of coffee in a cafe nearby full of underpaid, sweaty and unfriendly people.

I looked up to see the tiny snippets of beautiful clear blue sky through the gaps in the sky scrapers and blocks but the smog had tainted them as much as it had tainted my now desperately dim outlook on my monotonous and struggling lifestyle.

I continued along the pavement…