In the city

This week's Theme Poetry from Sara-Jane Arbury was based on cities. She gave us a brief history of the rise of cities.

 
Recently we have been watching Jay Blades: The Midlands Through Time which has been really interesting.  It's on Channel 5 catch up if you're interested.  I was almost tempted to use that as inspiration for the city poem but decided instead to write about commuting.

We always start this session with an unrelated piece of writing.  This was based on a poem called Vulnerable by Elma Mitchell, which starts 'Everything is ..'

In the Close 

Everything is quiet by 10pm.
The Close is almost silent.
Just one or two late arrivals home.
The teenager brought home
by his girlfriend’s mother.
No more deliveries, no Amazon Prime
or supermarkets trucks.
No phone calls. It’s impolite
to phone after ten o’clock
isn’t it?
Downstairs lights off, upstairs lights
turned off. The only lights
the moon and the street lamps
shining in the darkness.

Suburban Lives 

Short, suburban trains, stopping
at suburban stations,
wend their way to the city centre,
racing between the stops.
Hurrying people to their destination.
No eye contact made.
All looking at their phones
or studiously ignoring fellow travellers.

Rushing through the station, commuters
strangely eager to reach their desks
displaying a keenness to get the day over
when in the late afternoon, they can return
to their slower suburban lives. 

 

Thanks for joining me today
Bernice

Eclectica Exhibition

Last week, a few of us from Eclectica, the textile group I belong to, went to Forge Mill Needle Museum in Redditch to see our exhibition.

There's still time to visit.  It ends on Sunday November 26th.  The museum is open everyday from 10-3.

I took as many photos as I could.  There was some gorgeous work in the glass cabinets but the reflections were too much from the lights to be able to successfully photograph the work.

 

And lastly my canal-inspired pieces.

I really like the brick wall behind these pieces.  It sets them off really well.

Thanks for joining me today
Bernice

Long Haul

Whilst back to creativity and the latest poetry zoom with Sara-Jane Arbury, I still hadn't shaken off my trip when we were asked to write a poem about the passing of time.

(c) Eva Darron  (Unsplash)

Long Haul

The seatbelt sign

flickers as all around

settle into their seats. 

The clunking sound of

metal into metal.

Searching the inflight

entertainment for something

to while away the hours. 

Various announcements. 

No smoking, no vaping, no

lying on the floor.

No children’s blow up beds.

The meal is served.  Saving the planet

with bamboo knives and forks. 

But drinks in single use plastic cups.

Darkness falls.  The lights turned low

apart from the flickering

of numerous seatback screens. 

The lady across the aisle

seems to be watching the screen

of the person sitting in front of me.

Why?

After three films I try to sleep,

jealous of those who snore, softly,

open-mouthed for hours.  I manage

twenty minutes.

I walk up one aisle and down

the other, past the sleeping beauties

and the shining screens,

shadow actors playing out

their silent scenes.

Lights, action, breakfast.

Of course it could be lunchtime.

It must be somewhere in the world.

But after seven time zones

who knows what time it is.

The cabin crew decree it’s breakfast time,

although spinach and fetta slice

doesn’t sound like breakfast to me.

Slowly the chattering of passengers rises

almost drowning out the loud

thud

that signals

wheels down.

The crew sit down, no longer moving

through the cabin.  Strapped in,

leaning back, as

the ground rushes up to meet us.

The engines howl

as they are thrust into reverse.

The plane lands awkwardly veering

slightly left and right.

Will there be enough runway?

Sighs of relief as the plane comes

to a standstill.  Seatbelt sign off.

A rush to reach bags stowed

in overhead lockers.  Why do we do that? 

It takes so long for steps

and collecting cases in baggage reclaim.

But after seventeen hours trapped

in a metal tube, we want to escape

and finally reach our destination.

Thanks for joining me today
Bernice