Poetry - April 2012

Visting Hour

The time seems to stand still
As you head to the local hospital
You're visiting your loved one
And you just want them not to be ill
A daily commute that is different at first
But one you get to know by heart
Every last road and turn to get there
And making sure it's when the hour starts
You spend as much time as you can
Chatting about everyday things in life
Because when you're staring at walls all day
You don't really want to hear any strife
It just feels like the time goes so quick
Before it's almost time to go back home
You just wish your loved one was coming
So that you too can feel more at home.

(I take my hat off to anyone who can dedicate their time to visiting their loved ones in hospital - it must really take it out of you physically and emotionally over time. Seeing my friend in hospital recently kind of gives perspective to those who are much closer and how much time they dedicate.)

Travelling to the Weekend of Love

Years ago when I was much younger
I had a regular weekend travel plan to do
I'd make my way down on the train
To see the girl that made me feel less blue
It got to the point where I knew
Every station I'd pass on the way down
And I'd be counting each one in turn
As I wanted the train to go faster down
It would take an hour and three quarters
To get from my city to another place
And when I left work on the Friday afternoon
It was always a pretty mad race
To get home, get my weekend gear and change
And then get as fast as I could to the station
Hoping to make the six o'clock train
And one that would make a perfect situation
In that I'd be in the place I wanted by eight
Met with hugs and a kiss from the girl
And a time that is echoed by many others
As their lives and relationships unfurl.

(Travelling a lot at weekends is the diet for a lot of people whose relationships aren't always so close together. We've all done it in our time and you do get used to it, and it shows dedication and love, I think.)

Pac Million

The yellow character moves around the grid
Picking up the little pills as he goes
And then picking the power pill in the corner
Means that he can go after the ghosts
Pac Man was his name and Atari was his game
Console of choice to play the game on
I remembered one weekend at a relation's
And they had their Atari 2600 on
I wanted to play Pac Man and had a few goes
I soon learnt what I had to do in the game
What I didn't expect is one weekend some time later
Was that I would enter the high score hall of fame
I just learnt the patterns that the ghosts would take
And made sure I avoided them all the time
An hour or so later and I had all the lives intact
And only the electric going off would be the crime
To stop me getting the score I was aiming for
As I played on for four hours plus I realised
That I'd actually made the score go all the way round
And most of the family saw it with their own eyes
I felt rather proud to have clocked the score
Not something you can do every day
It was time for me to go home and go to bed
But I'll never forget my Pac Million day.

(If only I could do that now - but this is based on a true story when I did indeed clock the score on Pac Man on the Atari 2600. Ah, memories.)

One More Drink

One more drink, you exclaim out loud
As the night's not even at its end as yet
It's a worrying sight for all around you
As you stumble outside in the weather that is wet
There's clearly no control of the body
And no movement to at least recognise
That you're drunk already and staggering around
And you can't even see people with your eyes
You stumble to the next bar but they've been warned
And deny you any chance of one more drink
You know you'll only get some when you get home
And now you've really got to think
How you'll manage to get home in one piece
And how you'll need to really concentrate
On trying to remember the bus you take
So you'll end up by your front garden gate
The bus journey is a blur and drunken stupor
As you annoy everyone with your loud voice
It seems that everyone's had enough of you
They told you to stop at two but you made your choice
Finally hours later you arrive at home
But you can't even make it to the cold store
That one more drink will have to wait
As you collapse on the sofa in a heap, tired and sore.

(It makes you wonder when people know when to stop - and it's usually when someone's really drunk that they always seem to want just one more drink. Thankfully I know how to have a good time but when to say enough is enough.)

Changeable Haiku

It was bright sunshine
And now we're forecast some snow
Dear me, what's going on?

(I loved the headline on the front of today's Metro, said it all methinks. Sun one week, snow the next!)