Sliding Doors

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Tue, 18 Mar 2014
  • 1613 reads
8 comments
 
Yet another rainy day...a steady drizzle
stirred only by the comings and goings
on the great River Thames; boatloads
of tourists ogling Big Ben and St. Paul’s,
in all their dubious, cinereous glory.
 
And here I am in rush-hour, hanging
by a strap – crushed, almost to pulp,
between a guy who reeks of garlic
and a brat in a buggy, balling
its lungs out, whilst its mum
makes mad, passionate love
to a mobile phone.
 
Inside my head, though, I’m out of here;
light-years away from this hell-hole
on the Bedpan Line...stuck
between Momentary Madness
and Terminal Apathy.
 
Closing my eyes – it all pans out
before me in sweet sepia. Where
I am there are violets and violins;
an orchestra plays, and a tinkling piano.
Sounds corny, and it is, but here and now,
it happens to be true.
 
I’m Bogart in Casablanca –
not some crazy, ‘nine-to-fiver’,
and her over there is Ingrid Bergman
not some biddy, picking her teeth –
curlers in her hair. And, as time goes by,
life moves on, through 
sliding doors.
Certificate 12
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Philosophy

Comments

Submitted by Starfish Girl on

I really like this SSS.

I think we've all been in that position where our mind takes us away to a better place. I suppose the writer in us.

You certainly get that claustrophobic feeling very well.

Lindy

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Good afternoon, SG and I'm pleased you could identify with this...or not, if you know what I meansmiley

SSS

 

Submitted by Bee on

Two atmospheres captured so well with a brilliant coping strategy. How great it is to be able to slide into a peaceful place sometimes. You have reminded me to practice this more often. Great poem!

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Yep...we all need that priceless escape route at times, as you so eloquently say, Bee. Many thanks for reading and taking the trouble to share your thoughts.  Appreciated.

Tinasmiley

 

Submitted by MJG on

Very good images, violets and violins, the Thames, the mother making mad passionate  love..... don't leave it too late to leave ....

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Absolutely, MJG. Couldn't agree with you more.  Pleased it resonated with you, and appreciate your letting me know.

Tinasmiley

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

An interlude to life outside the sliding doors! If you cant do anything useful, or even have a useful conversation (Luigi wrote something recently about the determined isolation of commuters in a less squashed train!), then it's wonderful to be able to relax and buzz away to somewhere pleasant! Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

How right you are...on all counts, Rhiannon.  Many thanks.

Tina