The endless city hubbub
bubbling and humming away
big train stations and motorways
are never far away.
Yet, it is in moments like these
from the buzz distant
that we notice a muffled sneeze
and the swaying of a pendant
the click of a pen
leaves us asking—it all started when?
I write this poem
in a place of art
a place of love
of tears,
of long-lived years
and a great many dreams
where people come together
each day
without fail,
we come together.
Come together
to come home.
Travelling the
whole
wide
amazing
epic
striking
beautiful
gobsmacking
astounding
jaw-dropping
resplendent
world
is something I’d very much like to do, at some point, that would be fantastic, thanks.
Do doctors docate
in the same way educators educate?
Or do teachers tate
oh no, that’s a Gallery.
Nevermind.
maybe
my poems should be
more simple
?
Pif, paf, pum
that’s the sound of a gun
and the ratatat of this pun
which I’m saying for fun.
This conundrum of sounds
waiting to be found
cost: a few pounds
curse them, blimmin’, confound!