Short Commuter Poems

Souls howl on commuter trains
    buried in noise ere they deplane...

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My class teacher
told me to draw
a picture of her;
Commuter Taxi I drew,
she laughed and yelled
and told me,
“You are a good Dog!”...

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Sam slept through his alarm once again
So dashed to catch the commuter train
But today he is fine
‘Autumn leaves’ block the line
He’s off the hook … his boss can’t complain!

2nd June 2016...

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Early morning, bleary-eyed
We’re a weaving coffee-carrying crowd
One more sip,  heads bowed
Oh Grief! That train horns loud! 
Sorry! Excuse me!
Opps…Shall we dance?
A frown turns round
Manners & Humour - it's sound...

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You see the sunlight amongst the scree
There was a man 
who couldn't tell me anything
Where there was once the comfort
of the evenings telegraph line
he runs wild amongst shops turned into flatlets
Keep on a straight line
he has changed his mind
where once basson roamed
he guesses himself unfree
fortitude follows the wind


...

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You've seen the sunlight
now you mask your pride
Friends tell you where to go

Keep on a straight line
peaceful shades of green
strides past you

There's a commuter strip demur
back to cover hes read his Daily Mail
the burglued fox languishes
Making sense of the passing years


Lost in a wherewithal
Is it time to change ?
to purify your soul
or cry to the wind?








...

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Newsstand vendor
Side walk cleaner
Early morning commuter

Tired truck driver
Careful bus driver
Carpooling white-collar workers

Each day I witness this entourage of sorts,
the movement of the masses,
the migration of the worker.
We are all part of the same
system that guides us,
yet at times rejects us.
However, we do it again each day.
A day in the life.
But, what do we live for?...

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On trains that travel through tunnels of ambiguity.
The motion of the wheels meld into the subconscious.
A commuter routine of blood sweat and ignorance.
Outside fragmented windows stand the borders of disease.
A chaotic jumble of envy and spiritless ineptitude.
Roll into the station whilst time grinds still.
Tickets to oblivion checked by the conductor of greed.
End of the line stretches into infinite divergences....

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turbines&apartments
                           awake
diggers&cranes release
                      their brakes
roads alive
           with commuter cars
bridges teem 
           with pedestrians
umbrellas uplift
                in passing showers
pylons pulsate
                 their powers
corn flakes crackle,toast browns
                            eggs hard-boil
work prepares
                    a day full of toil...

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My constant friend,
The invisible commuter.

She’s always there:
On my phone and my computer.

Siri’s her name;
She always perks up at my voice.

I’d shut her down,
But she’d lose agency and choice.

Besides, I fear
That Amazon will flood my house.

Or even worse,
She’ll share our secrets with my spouse!

—————


(For the “Let’s Explore Digital Technology” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Simon Rogerson
2/8/2022)
...

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nostrils filled with the asphalt rain 
sewer systems and whirlpool drains 
shadowed sun downs by one oclock
flashing lights and city cops 
wailing sirens in traffic rush 
taxi cabs and commuter bus 
when will all the chaos stop 
suicides from building tops 
drive by shootings hit and run 
abondonded buildings home for some 
underneath the neon lights 
murder death kill records heights 
when will all the madness end 
a vicious cycle starts again....

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nineseventeen PM
a slow drip torments the kitchen
the TV argues with the walls
in another room
that damn mosquito waits
tuning its violin
a distant odor of skunk
sneaks under the door
two crickets argue
over the temperature
worms sniff the cool damp air
a commuter train hurries
to make last call
a lazy dog farts
in hope the skunk is listening
a kettle whistles
soft slippers shuffle
tea…..and toast
call to the past
come sit awhile


John G. Lawless
©5/21/2018...

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Sunday evening 
   just feels strange
It's still the weekend
   yet it's not the same

Monday's coming 
   and that means work
All relaxed now?
   Ha! -- Perils lurk

The commuter crush
   You rush, rush, rush
to your desk by eight
   or else you're late

The phone is ringing
   The boss keeps pinging
The system's crashed; what failed?
   Your program bailed

So, take a deep breath
   Then break out in a sweat
It's your lucky day
   ~ Your pink slip's all set...

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