Thursday, 9 March 2017

Bristol poem

The train takes me to Bristol
My heart is travelling further
To be with you
But my mind says No
I wish they would pull together.

I have followed my nose
So many times
And ended up here and there
Building sandcastles
Collapsing in the stream of life.
And now I live in exile
And wonder where the time has gone
And who this old fool is
Who looks back at me
In the mirror of life
One day I must swap places with him
Until then I keep travelling on.

Sunday, 5 March 2017



“Tomorrow” she said. But that was always what she said to put me off; to deflect me; to shut me up. I glared at her but remained silent. What was the point of speaking? But God how I schemed and plotted inside. I had my plan perfected to a T. But would I carry it out? ‘Tomorrow’ was like a heart beat or the ring of a bell. And this time I would!

I threw a few clothes in a knapsack and raided my money box for a pile of coins and a few notes. Then I waited until she went next door for a neighbourly cup of tea and I was off. ‘Tomorrow Fuck that for a game of billiards’.

A bus ride into town then a short walk to the main road that led to the motorway. I stuck out my thumb and ten minutes later a red mini car pulled over.
“Where you’re going?”
“That’ll do.”
I climbed in and we were off. ‘Tomorrow’ – bollocks it was today and I was free; free at last.