Homeless at Heart

Moving constantly,
foreigners migrate
from house to pavement
sipping coffee on dividers.
Nowhere to go
no here, no there
no base to call home
and then there's winter
that comes unannounced;
alone in time
a cold heart to hold,
where to now?
Nowhere it seems,
like the lost child
wandering astray
no parents to care
no hands to hold
and homeless at heart,
so lost but true
does the foreigner's way go.

Train Times

Solace was found
on a train
bound for Guildford.
It wasn't to last
and it wasn't true.
But the train was still Southbound
on winding paths
through fields and towns
and in the distance houses
filled with families
(with their children and dog)
 who put aside irreconcilable
differences to stay together.
The train stopped and the door opened
to welcome a sight of
platforms, and train tracks
and houses of similar stature.
And solace is lost
amongst the sea of train travellers
looking for platforms
checking the time.
So we lose ourselves in the pace of life
and see no one
and expect no one
like a child lost at sea
with no one's hand to hold.

Eternity

I want to question 'eternity'. What is it? Why did we give it meaning? Why do we say it?

It's such an unrealistic view of life. Nothing lasts for an eternity - everything dies in the hands of time. Feelings ebb away and events fade into the depths of memory.

You can't salvage time. It's one of those things which only holds its existence at that instance before becoming nothing but the past.

It's all in the past now - all part of the fucking untruths and we are left with counterfactual thinking:

What if...what if....what if....?

It's all too fucking complicated. And regrets seem to last too long even when you have a metaphysical eternity. But then again, it might just all ebb away together with the feelings...unless you don't let it go.

The sun is now setting - and the day fades away. Go away day...go away...the thought of eternity is too painful.

Chasing Daylight

Hovering over everything
the skies have dimmed, the tea's gone cold
no one to greet me, as we run against time;
I am going home, on air
where time is irrelevant
unlike the ground below us
which runs on clocks
and where lives
are governed by sleep,
but here,
nothing matters.
We are in a void
of stillness and insignificance
so lonely, so isolated
so unnervingly bare
where the only thing we can do
is chase daylight
which eludes us until
the rumble of engines brings us round
from our timeless sleep
and says "Here you are."
And light rushes in, almost unprecedented,
and life begins again.

Chasing Trains (not Dreams)

I spend my life chasing trains;
platform-to-platform, train-to-train, town-to-town,
and it never ends, not properly anyways.
From Guildford to Woking
on to Clapham and London,
the final destination is never seen
or found; all that is seen are scenes
of houses and fields which whiz by, unnoticed.
While children play and cows graze,
on the only place they know as home,
I look for mine in the cluttered mess
but no matter how many trains or towns
I cross and leave, there is no home
just places and people who I smile in passing
and then abandon, in search for my own;
even if it were in those arms, which die eventually
I would seek it, still, for trust and security
but there is no home
(not yet anyways)
just houses of children, fields of cows
and of course, more trains,
to keep me company on rainy days
until the tracks end
in a burst of light and all is found.

What They are Fighting for

Step on the foot of a soldier
and cry for the mother who loses her son;
weep for the child who loses his father;
be devastated for the wife who loses her spouse.
Hearts die in the hand shortly after
and bullets lie bloodied on the ground.
The ruthless killing of many by those
who don't even know them.
and they fight blindly for patriotism and victory
but in the process, forget
mother
wife
and child.
So breathe a sigh for those they leave
for their country for which they fight
and hold on to their pain and hurt
with that strange realisation
that all they are fighting for remains pointless,
and unnervingly bare
only to render the loved, lonely in life
and directionless in their death.

Where has it all gone?

What happened to two years ago? It's almost like a non-reality which will never exist again. I think I let it die..not intentionally, but the Armageddon of the situation forced the slow death of two. I don't suppose there's much that could have been done but at the same time, there's a guilt which nibbles at my shoulder.

Goodbye insanity.
Goodbye you, who I knew.
Goodbye travelling buddy.
Goodbye the other quarter.
See you in time
But I don't believe I will.

What you deserve

Look here

and here

and here.

Mother never told you that you were beautiful

and it was unfair it drove you to tears.

So harsh was this judgment  of fools

but yet I can't convince you

that their words were untrue.

Look there,

over there

no...over there

Isn't that you, the person who you really are

a person who will love and care?

Don't hide that person in the dark;

you don't deserve to be marred

by those who bury you in the mud.

Hear that

that sound

that soft sound

They're calling you to heaven where you have a place

and there are tears which fall to the ground 

but knowing that this is your release

makes me smile and falter to say

"Finally, you've now been found".

Fire

Why is there silence on the battlefield?
Not a detonation, not a shot, not a footstep -
silence has never been so awkward
in the vast emptiness of battle.
Are we all waiting for the first move to happen
or are we playing a game of uncertainty
based on assumptions that perhaps, there is
no war - just misunderstanding and unnecessary
fear? I don't know; I'm standing here
gun in hand, and with gashes on my leg
and yet, there is no retaliation
just silence, which exaggerates the tension
 until I let fire
and they come out,
defense on high
and they come at me.