Saturday 15 May 2010

The Cloud Factory

The sky warmly greets the ploughed earth.

Unending furrowed rows of soil.

Translucent whispers of cloud lay motionless in the turbulent atmosphere.

Soon to be burnt away, leaving no trace behind.

Wanderer


I wonder,
where shall I wander?

Pastures green,
or places seen?

Towns of grey,
or fields of hay?

Icey mountains,
or watery fountains?

Wherever I go,
you'll never know.

Give it up...

Standing on the side of the road,

not sure which way I’m going.

Up in the distance a car’s a showed

It speeds past, red lights a showin’.


How long do I stand here for?

My fate in the hands of strangers.

Time passes by, ten, fifteen, a score.

Should I be doing this, what about the dangers?


Chin up, smile on my face,

ready to embrace, the human race.

It creeps by at a petty pace,

when your thumbs pointed up to space.


Rain beats down on asphalt

I’m soaked to the skin.

I feel done, feel like giving in.

‘Is it the parents fault?’


Despondent, done-in, dreadful, dead.

Life could be worse, it’s often said.

Hey life could be worse,

riding to that hole in a hearse.


I’m travel tired, homesick and weary

my thumb points up to the sky.

Dark clouds appear,

It’s raining, shitty dreary.


Maybe next time I’ll take the rails.

But for now on, I’ll keep telling my Tarmac Tales.