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Best Poems Written by Grae Wall

Below are the all-time best Grae Wall poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Grae Wall Poem

A Man Sits On a Train

A man sits on a train
Waiting or at least hoping for an e-mail
He stares at the laptop that sits atop his lap
With unwavering concentration

As the train pulls out of the city
The morning sky is shot with scarlet shards
On aquamarine

The countryside flies by
In beauteous early summer shades
Pigeons and foxes
And sleepy thatched hamlets

 After a while the train slows 
And through the picket fences beyond platform A
The man’s childhood friends can be seen
Jumping from swings and on to the roundabout
Joyous in holiday freedom
If only he could avert his eyes
And then gone

On through mill town
O’er tall gothic bridges
Steeples and black glass tower blocks
To red brick leafy suburbs
Corner pubs and smoking chimneys
Faded metal hoardings and avenues prim 

Further down the line
The train slows again
And on the green wood bench across the tracks
Sits the woman loved and lost
Alone and smiling sweet as honey
Eyes closed in warm meditation
Just a call away
But the man remains silent
Transfixed and determined

The train meanders through mountains of grandeur
Past star sparkle rivers and fairytale forests
Shoreline, glen and tunnels of steam
That all remain unseen

When the train slows again
The man’s mother looks out through the waiting room window
A pale and all loving dewy eyed angel
Who waves in sweet resignation
At her son who sits on the train

Evening bows to night as the train rumbles on
Streetlight reflected on the shower fresh streets
The moon makes silhouette of distant woods and cooling towers
‘til dark clouds extinguish it’s gaze

Eventually the train grinds towards its halt
And as it does
Suddenly  
There in the inbox 
– Ping!
Double clicked his eyes eagerly scan the message
Which simply reads
“you have reached your destination”

Details | Grae Wall Poem

1974

His palette was every shade of grey
Jet black one end snow white the other
And never did a stroke touch the canvas
Before endless moments of pondering
Like a crow in a tree 
Surveying a frosted wasteland
Then swooping with purpose
Only when the prey was sure
I would watch in awe
Barely daring to breath
As the landscape took shape
In twists and swathes
Delicate dots and bold waves
Skeletal trees appearing
Against a bleak winter sky
Chimney smoke stains
From a distant town
Broken figures bowed
Against the harsh terrain
His head would tilt back
In tense contemplation
Fists clenched and eyes closed
Summoning the strength
To make his next move
Awaiting the muse
Inhaling the heavens
Clutching for inspiration
Then a sudden inhalation
And a whispered sigh
As his vision restored
And the brush led his hand
A world without colour
The death of hope
Questioning God himself
Channelling his demons
In exquisite form

It was still dark when I awoke
To the tinny clang of my travel alarm
The bedroom cold
And the day unwelcome

Details | Grae Wall Poem

In the Air

Helicopter hovers over Hyde Park
747 cruises beneath the sharp half moon
As I saunter past the buzz and hum of Speakers Corner
Wrestling with the stiff breeze buzz
There’s something in the air tonight

The throng at Marble Arch eager and set
Hang on every word relayed through the struggling PA
Prayers of hope and calls to peaceful disobedience
A small child takes the microphone
Something she has written today
Sweet and hopeful 
Angry and alive
Crescendo triggering a roar of approval
Her face taken aback
But clearly proud
In the bonfire’s glow
Some have brought candles in jars
LED’s hang from flagpoles
And a few bold torches
Ablaze and thrust aloft
There is rebellion in the air tonight

This feels like a moment
Something real and pure and strong
A pin stuck in a slow revolving globe
A force to be breathed in and held
A song of hope that could awake the globe
There is a determination in the air tonight
This moment is the only moment
And it is a moment to believe

Details | Grae Wall Poem

Today I Was a Lion

Today I was a lion
I lay out on the lawn
With the cat by my side
And together 
We were a small pride
Beneath the searing heat
Of the Serengeti
Well South Herts
To be precise
But it was nice
In our jungle garden home
And we would like to reassure you
That no antelope were harmed
In the making of this poem

Details | Grae Wall Poem

Breathe

A minor blip
A small setback
A little shake where a shake shouldn’t be
Did anyone see?
And breathe

The train travels relentlessly
Towards the Spanish border.
It’s dark outside and I’ve slept for a few hours.
Take a photograph through the window
No idea where we are but as good a place as any to freeze a moment.

Intermittently we speed through a sleeping station,
Ochre shadows and lamp lit stairs.
For a second there the silhouettes of houses.
Perhaps in one sits a man who cannot sleep,
The only sound to break his silent contemplation being 
The muffled thunder of the occasional night train.

After some while hairline cracks of red on the horizon begin to break the black.
Vague outline clouds and ghost trees, fences, fields, graffiti on a bus shelter
As grey turns to brown and yellow to green.
The blur-past stations now possess occasional familiarity as stations often do,
Kindly and reminiscent of past adventure.

The train slows as it crosses the border.
Little changes outside except the signage,
But sleepy eyed within our carriage a sense of quiet contentment awakes.
A new day in a new land.

I alight at Portbou and watch as the train pulls onwards
Stretch and smile at the cat outside the cafeteria door,
Blink up at the church and the blue-grey vista of rolling Catalunya
Forty five minutes until the train to Figueres. 
Time for coffee.

I rummage for my notebook and pen and turn to a fresh page. 
I place the pen in readiness beside the book, 
Sit back and breathe.

Details | Grae Wall Poem

Dear Buddha

Dear Buddha
It’s been a while I know
I do apologise
But stuff gets in the way
These silly complications
Books to read
And CNN
But I’m here now
And so are you
So set in stone
And pond-side contemplation
I’m sure you understand
You always do
So much to exhale
You wouldn’t believe
Not so many frogs this year
Perhaps it’s the heat
And the cat’s not so keen 
Bless her

I’m so done with it all
But I see no path ahead
Just snapshots of Arles
And moments in Seville
These scriptures and hymns
Are where I seem to belong
Lenny and Phoebe
The Milk Carton Kids
Charlie’s blues
And the streets of Paris
Let me focus
Let it all go
For a moment at least
Bask in the glow
Of this summer garden heat
And breathe

If there’s any chance
You could point a way
There’s no real hurry
No real distress
I’m sure it will emerge
Somewhere in the undergrowth
But thanks for listening anyway
It always helps
And let’s not leave it so long
Next time
Yours as always
Alban’s son
Lost and confused
And almost done