As my light becomes dark

I intertwine my words and vision into woven light

Wednesday, September 1, 2010


Anyone who has caught public transport will know it can be quite an experience.  Catching the number 86 tram, bound for Bundoora, I am always ready to be entertained, scared out of my wits and sometimes pleasantly surprised.  The rain was bucketing down as I huddled under the cover at Bourke St, where oh where is my umbrella I wonder, and as the tram pulled up everyone made a mad dash for the door, I hate that.  For goodness sakes people....LET DIS-EMBARKING PASSENGERS OFF BEFORE YOU GET ON.  Infuriated, I waited, getting wet, but non the less patient, I board, I sit and I wait. 

Sitting in between a group of three girls, all aged, seemingly in their late 20's they talk around me, like I am  not present.  Well I guess I am not really, hahahah, I am drawn to one girl, dark eyes, beautiful orange scarf, dark hair with white chunks through it.  But it was her attitude that struck me, dominating the conversation

"Yeah I told her, over facebook, just like she did to me, I thought nope not stoopin to her level, but I whacked it on there, that our friendship was over, I was walking.  Mick would have seen it as well, and guess who didn't comment....... " 

I hate Facebook

The other two girls chime in, agreeing with her, clearly she decides who's in the group and who is out....mmmmm...I have known girls like this, I wanted to tell her. hahahah, she was not going to give me a chance because she continued on:

"Psychic told me this would happen, saw her for six hours and she told me and Nat (wonder who Nat is???) that this would happen....."

blah blah blah blah.....this is where I tuned out but her voice droned on for the whole 45 minutes of my trip, even over the music, and the commotion of kids crying who are being told off, the man sniffling across the isle, the opening and closing of the doors and every now and then the sound of rain.

So I turned to a poem I have been working on for the last few days called

The platform is a ledge
Balancing the cup
Breathe being drawn
Like night sucking in
The life of the falling sun
Landing on the gold plated edge
Fluttering, the soul takes notice
Like the summers first dawn
Covering the sky with
Amber shades
The sound of wings breaking
Against the still air
The heart is let free
Toward the break of colour
The blue winged bird
Her colour fading
But silence broken by her song
The following day will be warmer
As she has arrived
Goodbye little one
Her wings here to carry you away
For my future is now to grow
Darkness will soon fade
As the gold plated cup
Falls over the ledge
The platform no longer strong

1 comment:

  1. OOOOhhhh I love the tram journey text. Sounds like characters in a short story. The poem is superb! Very soft and delicate. I like it very much. Keep going!!!