Commuting draft poem 2

These two poems were mainly written to pass the time and practice writing poems to specificish metres, rather than making any "big" points. Probably influenced a wee bit by Brian Bilston.

* * * * * * * *

EGO TO PLEASE

Walking out beside the sea

My own voice in my ears

I close my eyes and take in those

Imaginary cheers

Our latest record is complete

New songs to celebrate

Potent lyrics with every word

Sung with delicious weight

It sounds like something new and special

Intelligent and brave

Something vital and important

Something worth a save

Something that this rigid poem

Cannot hope to match

Something fluid and exciting

And far more up to scratch

I wonder though if all of this

Is biased to my taste

And only seems so beautiful

Because it bears my face

And if another person’s voice

I’d heard beside the sea

Those songs would not seem so anthemic

As they weren’t sung by me.

Commuting draft poem 1

Wrote a couple of things on the train home over the last fortnight. Soon to become things of the past as my office looks like it's moving to Brighton (hoorah!)

* * * *

FOR MY FELLOW COMMUTERS

Morning has broken my head into tiny little pieces

Each piece has fallen underneath the wheel that never ceases

Spinning, eroding, grinding again day after day

No matter how hard I try, I can’t get out of the way

So I’m sitting here, waiting for time to mend my head

A process that begins with getting myself out the bed

A process that continues with getting on this train

A process that finally ends when work numbs all the pain

But with the process underway, peace is now required

The process has the most effect when undergone in quiet

So do your best to understand me and maintain the silence

For otherwise I am required to resort to some violence

And break your inconsiderate head into little pieces too

And the police will understand there's none to blame but you

And if there is something in this that still does not compute

I’d appreciate it if you could put the ‘mute’ in this ‘commute’

Pleasekeepyourmouthshut

Pleasekeepyourmouthshut

Pleasekeepyourmouthshut

Pleasekeepyourmouthshut

It is far too early for this

The sun falls with my spirit as the day runs out its course

I’m filled with nothing but empty carbohydrates and remorse

The planet rotates me like a prize hog upon a spit

Each day I feel a bit more tender, I’m aching where I sit

I look forward to sitting somewhere more comfy than there

Upon a throne that takes me home from 9-5 despair

The day was full of busying and hurrying and noise

All sorts of ruckus and alarm no-one ever enjoys

I’m tired of all this chaos and I’m seeking some more peace

A slow and silent slumber where the office chatters cease

So please respect my lethargy and forgive my malaise

For if you don’t I’ll rouse myself to bad barbaric ways

All I want is to go gently into this good night

Don’t stop me or I’ll rage at more than the dying of the light

And if there is something in this that still does not compute

I’d appreciate it if you could put the ‘mute’ in this ‘commute’

Pleasekeepyourmouthshut

Pleasekeepyourmouthshut

Pleasekeepyourmouthshut

Pleasekeepyourmouthshut

It is far too late for this