Poetry

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By

Fiona Pearse

 

Aboard the Waits Train

(Listening to Tom Waits)

 

All aboard the Waits train

It’s a lovely sound you make and I’m not the first to say it

 

Leave your bags and credit cards behind

Find a seat that slides

You move me

 

Let your soul take a ride

To an old world

Where everything is sepia and torn

Over gravel chords I can’t see home any more

 

Out the window to your left see the dark side of you

Out the right, as tight as night, it’s a belly-bound snake that knows the truth

The ruthless toothless chattering of fate

 

Cruelty makes the world go round for heaven’s sake

 

There’s a tumbling that’s threatening to crash

Laughing at the entreat of the tracks

 

Allow the salve to take effect…

 

A melody beguiling like angels rising, there I’m free to wonder without words

Bursting at the lightness of the piano’s knowing

 

The refreshments cart is on its way

 

Outside the window my world is flashing by

 

Take something with you when you leave

 

Alight in your own time

 

 

 

 

 

 

Playground of My Youth

 

The hill

Playground of my youth

An hour after school

The grass always damp

shadowed by oak trees

 

The stream

below a bank

of weeds and old rope

Mudslides in the rain

leave ridges to climb

 

The bridge

where boys on bikes

smile down

Too old for plasters

Too young for kissing

 

The bushes

A shared cigarette

There a man

with need to shock

means no harm

 

The old castle

A magic forest

An electric walk

A first kiss

The end of youth

 

 

 

 

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Fiona Pearse is the author of the award nominated Orla’s Code. She has also discovered another passion, Poetry. Her day job is software development in London’s financial hub. When she’s not working or writing, she’s enjoying the city.

http://www.fionapearse.com/

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