Delay

 

Station announcement…

The train today has been delayed.

We understand that this is a pain,

and that now, your journey may

take longer to begin,

but time is a construct anyhow,

and time is always right now.

 

So, please remain upbeat,

take one of our metal seats,

put up your feet, and watch life

as it starts to sow seeds.

 

We advise all to sit tight

whilst a replacement life

is forged from the fires.

Now this may take some hours,

so please feel free to acquaint

yourself with the food establishments,

the metal seating,

the overcrowded feelings

that drip in from the ceiling,

pooling at your feet,

a mirror to see where you began

and where you will one day be.

 

Fear not that the journey

is not going to plan,

for the best laid plans

of mice and men, end in cheese,

and whilst you could build a roquefort

for yourself to hide away, there are Stiltons

of amazing experiences to explore

if you just brielieve.

If you seat yourself

in the cafe to the right

we have the best cheesy chips

on which to feast, so just let

yourself ease into place,

for it may be a long night,

and if your dreams are

stubbornly not coming true,

maybe the dreams are

dreaming a life of being you.

 

The train approaching platform four

is a metaphor, it is not going to stop

and it has no doors.

It is just a phantom in the breeze,

a reminder that life moves swiftly

even when sitting still.

 

So, smile and be free,

for the earth is still spinning

miles through space, and we

have moved so far since this delay.

Life never stays still

even if it sometimes feels that way.

The journey is always

taking you by the hand,

even when it feels like the universe

has forgotten the plan

and left you alone in a station

just staring blindly at your phone.

Evacuation dreams

 

Evacuation screams.

Boarding trains

to anywhere but here.

Time ceases to turn,

the sky burns

as missiles lock onto our dreams.

No walls built will contain the rage

as the earth spits her venom.

Evacuation dreams

but nowhere is safe, just a cage

of humanities depravity

when the dust settles

on a misunderstood fairytale.

 

Tick, tick, tick,

the bomb is set.

The neon timer is lit.

The click of the safety

being flicked off

a rifle, as time ceases

its next beat.

The men in the high tower

fill themselves on truffles and caviar.

A meal fit for the beast.

The air filled with metal birds

dropping loads, the shit hits the fan

as oil fields explode.

A new star in the day light,

turns the world to twilight

in the blink of an eye.

As the fallout dust

crashes our dreams,

I hear an angel cry.

 

Evacuation dreams,

but escape is a myth

when the air screams,

the seas bleed for us,

and the storms are manmade.

Greed seeds fields of dead trees

and the earth weeps

for yesterday's peace.

Sandcastles in the wind,

as the cities crash to the ground.

 

Our evacuation dreams fill our eyes.

Peacefully village in the summertime,

a beach side retreat in the prime of life,

A mountainside paradise

where the trees are topped

with snow and ice.

All dreams die.

As we see the fire fill out eyes,

and screams evacuate our lungs

to join the screams of the mother

Earth in her final song.

The storm before the calm

 

The first rays of dawn sit lazing on the horizon,

but a heavy wind is rushing in.

A swirling vortex of pain

for anyone that gets in the way.

It can’t be seen in the light of day,

just a slight stain in the universal consciousness.

A sense of foreboding makes

a home in the bones within

and like animals before disaster

we prickle with fire inside our blood.

Looking for signs of impending night,

looking for the things that cause us fright.

The flight instinct is high.

Something is coming in a flood,

a wave of hurt to wash away the peace

that has been flowing gently.

 

The news drizzles out lies

to unsuspecting ears

in trickles of truth,

propaganda and fear.

It blurs the lines,

selling us a story, of us vs them,

good vs bad, divide the room,

set the coin spinning,

whichever side it lands on

will be our downfall.

Hear the call through the gloom.

The storm is near.

The hail is here, a thousand cuts as 

it makes lands fall and people run in fear.

 

Hear the drumming,

of the raining fire.

Hear the marching,

the machine gun fire.

Hear the storm

as it inches closer.

Hear the screams

as they screech higher.

Hear the end as it begins.

Hear the sins of man

becoming thunder

as anger reigns again.

Hear the lighting of the funeral pyre.

 

The noose is around our necks

A lasso around the chest,

we are caught in the nets,

as the dredging of humanity begins.

Scream, for it will be

the sound of our times,

the song we will sing every night.

The lullaby that says goodnight to the fire.

 

The storm is here

It has been here for longer

than most care to hear,

we dare to be brave

and hold ourselves proud.

We raise our voices loud,

to be heard above

the hateful clouds

that crowd around.

On the horizon

those grey darkening skies,

so angry, inspiring fear.

But I know in my heart

that beyond the grey

a brighter day

always sits in wait,

if we can just clear the air.