Travel Tips

Guess we all go through a phase of writing poetry. Well, I'm no different. These are a collection of some of my poems, from a few years ago. They are about various subjects, all with one main link, they had to be about something that inspired me, or awoke a passion in me. The majority of them were wrote whilst I was travelling.
They have all been published in various poetry anthologies.

This poem is against the typical life. Too many people worry about work, about money, about how other people see them, that they don't take time to enjoy the simple things in life: friends, family, travelling, etc. We do not live to work, we work to live.

Sensible Life

Be born. Listen to mummy. Go to school. Listen to teacher. Finish school. Listen to parents. Go to college. Listen to lecturer. Finish college. Go to university. Listen to professor. Finish university. Collect degree. Listen to parents. Get sensible job, with good chance of promotion. Listen to boss. Admire boss. Never think for yourself. Get sensible car with help from parents. Get sensible girlfriend with help from parents. Get engaged with help from parents. Get married with help from parents. Take week off work to go on honeymoon. Return to work. Get promoted. Still listen to boss. Get promoted to assistant-boss. Stab boss in back. Become boss. Work all hours. Never listen to wife. Have kids. Ignore kids. Work, work, work. Put money into pension fund. Take two week holiday once a year in same place. Watch kids grow up, from afar. Watch kids go to school, from afar. Watch kids leave home, from afar. Still don't listen to wife. Work, work, work, work. Watch wife have numerous affairs. Accept wife's numerous affairs. Work, work, work, work, work. Retire. Get sensible carriage clock from loyal staff. Get sensible cottage for retiring in. Ignore wife. Dream of work. See kids once a year at holiday time. Worry about not having enough money for a decent funeral. Budget your money carefully. Got to have a decent funeral. Worry about dying. Die. Have decent funeral.......( Another life wasted)

Kerouacsdog
June 1993

This poem was about a girl from school that i knew. She had everything, personality, looks, money, but her parents didn't care too much for her. She was a close friend, who confided in me that she took heroin. I told her she was slowly killing herself, she said her parents wouldn't care if she did.

Suicide Ledge

Scenes change
Nothing's permanent
Says the girl on the edge of the window ledge

Everybody watching?
EVERYBODY WATCHING?
Shouts the girl on the edge of the suicide ledge

Here goes nothing
In fact, here goes everything
in her mind, muted and blind

She steps off and falls
and bounces the wall
For dismount, four out of ten

Silence for the golden girl
then screams all around
as nervous blood reddens the ground

Why did she do it?
Why did she do it here?
Surely the coffee wasn't that bad?

She wanted to get in early
'cause the ledge will soon be full
there's a queue forming to bounce the wall.

Kerouacsdog
June 1991

This is about my 2 passions in life, travelling, and the fairer sex. 1994, and i was about to go off on my travels, when I met this girl in the poem. I had to decide whether to go, or to stay and see what happened. I stayed, we had a fantastic relationship, then it ended. We still keep in touch.

About travelling, and the woman I love

Here
there is nothing
But I wait
before I go
there
for something,
maybe?

Here
I've seen everything
But I wait
before I go
there
to see something new,
maybe?

Here
I have seen
the woman I love
so I stay
here
to see something wonderful,
maybe?

Kerouacsdog
December 1994

This happened to me on a hot day in August, in a macdonalds. This woman entered (I was sat down) with a little boy, and she was absolutely stunning. I'm no good-looking chap, but I got the impression she kept looking at me. So I sat there, with all these questions running thru my mind, trying to write them down as quick as I could on the notepad I kept with me all the time. I never did approach her, i was too shy then. I can still picture the situation now, along with how she looked.

Poem from inside a fast-food restaurant

Sitting near the window, looking out
trying to fathom what life's all about
catching the eye of woman with child
wonder if her thoughts, like mine, are wild
of wonderful sex, between me and her
of entering existence, never experienced before
What is she thinking?
wish I could tell
Is it thoughts of Heaven?
or thoughts of Hell?
thoughts of holding hands?
or falling in love?
or a one-night-stand?
or none of the above?
Is she looking at me?
or looking past me?
should i go ask her out?
or will she come ask me?
I'm waiting for her move
is she waiting for mine?
If she's waiting for me
she'll be here a long time!
We haven't even spoken
but to where do we go from here?
She's a million miles away
but she's sitting so dangerously near
Will she go out with me?
Will I have any luck?
I swear that one day
I'll go chat 'em up
But for now I'll just leave it
And so, I think, shall she
She' s leaving the place, with her kid
without even looking at me!

Kerouacsdog
August 1991