writing, coffee mug

Poem: Journey


Crowds. Platforms. Gates. Runways and

alley ways and taxi cabs

and the screech of

air brakes.

Run. Walk. Label luggage, send it off into the abyss. Pray it comes back

to you.

Split the air in twain with an aluminium nose cone.

Delve ‘neath earth and rock and sea.

Ride high over field. Town. City. Houses. People.

Count the minutes.

Check the timetableticketsitinerythearrivals/departuresboards.

Airport lounges, waiting rooms, ranks of cars, traffic jams, docks and passport control.

Big city small town beach resort country village

ski slopes walking holiday hotel motel

                       road trip weekend break short break honeymoon second wedding

                                                            first trip without the children singles cruise

                                                                  adventure holiday self catered all board special present to myself after years

of over worked

under paid

under valued

under fucking




(Originally submitted for assessment at Bangor University, School of Creative Writing, under the name Rebecca Rayner, but now extended and posted for personal entertainment.)

  • Current Location: Bangor, Wales
  • Current Mood: my bra hurts
  • Current Music: Down on You: Tokio Hotel