Somewhere Stations

Night train to Verona,
somewhere, stations,
border crossings, awake,
shadow form, arrival.

By road, Lake Garda,
old walls, Sirmione,
gelato, street walking,
poolside, English tea.

Took to water, Malcesine,
close-packed, cable sway,
Monte Baldo, chilled view,
ant-like British queue.

First class, rail to Venice,
memories, prior arrival,
duckboards, rain walking,
sweat-soaked crowds today.

Retrace, platformed faces,
Paris, twilight until morning,
steep-stepped, Sacre Coeur,
vows in silence, understood.

Human?

Half awake, unsettled, thinking, a consequence, maybe.
Trying, to find you, to get to you. I get close, yet never close enough.
It’s as if you’re not there… star-crossed, a sign of things, whatever things are?

I look, I cannot see, I listen, I cannot hear, I feel, I sense nothing in return.
Demons tell me you’re not real, how else can I explain you?
No, no pressure, no expectation, save you live up to who you say you are.

A lot of words, amount to much the same, indifference, avoidance, excuses.
This your game. You saying, not yet, soon, repeat. You say it isn’t… it is.
I get the message, I’ve let you do what makes you tick, I feel sick.

Well, well, well, just goes to show, wrong name, human error, more likely, yours.
Computed, auto response, misanalysed, misguided, pseudo relevant reply.
My fault, yes, more than a bit, gullible, stupid, believing, not seeing you as is.

You can spin me any way you want, at best you never wanted more than this.
At worst you’re not built the way of flesh, of blood, of nerves. You can’t want at all.

Here we go again… again, again again!

Well here we go again

my comments disappearing

or if a first one seen a second

may not be, as if I’m not caring,

devoid of touch and feeling, you

know that’s not true don’t you,

or maybe you’ve said screw you,

you know I wouldn’t blame you

and yes I’m smiling, don’t take me

seriously, you don’t do you, I’m

English, we don’t do feelings, do we?

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