Saturday, 28 August 2010

7:25 - A Poem by Pete Marshall

A Poem by Pete Marshall

The 7:25 was always late
as heels would click upon the path
that led past booths and open gates
and gents would fold their Telegraphs
and brollies sold a blue chip name
as brogues would splash in puddled rain
for Mondays were a weekend draft
that blew through minds and rumbled past

The 7:25 was always late
as heels would rush and clatter by
in A line skirts with seams so straight
that caught a flash from anxious eyes
and some would take a last long drag
and girls would rummage through their bags
for Mondays were a weekend draft
that blew through days and rumbled past

The 7:25 was always late
as heels would scuff and take the strain
for office clocks would never wait
and empty desks would cause complain
as woollen suits brought heavy sweats
whilst being late showed no respect
for Mondays were a weekend draft
that blew through hopes and rumbled past


Welcome to Saturday, my day at One Stop..this is a simple poem that explores the feeling of helplessness when you are trapped in a life that you cant this case a job...when you find you are living to work rather than working to live...have you ever been there? 


image courtesy creative commons flickr


moondustwriter said...

Pete -It's a timeless poem. Could have happened to any one in any place.

Love the flow of the words my friend

Moon smiles

Beachanny said...

"For Mondays were a weekend draft" - genius. That's the core and what a job you did with it. This is another wonderful piece. Thank you. You have such a great gift.

Boonie S said...

I love your writing style.. I find this piece very Betjeman-ish. Great stuff.

All the best, Boonie

Brian Miller said...

nice. love the last couple lines as that is how it feels on mondays and the repitition plays well with your subject. excellent write my friend...

Pete Marshall said...

Hi moonie love your support..thanks for all you do

Thanks beachanny..and a wonderful tweet you sent too

thanks that compliment

Hi Bri..thanks for that..i always appreciate your support

dustus said...

Pete, a great poem! You say afterward that you wanted to explore "the feeling of helplessness," and I think you do so poignantly. The lyrical lines are tight, and the "For Mondays were a weekend draft" line captures the essence of it. Brought back memories of my daily commute. Cheers mate!

Claudia said...

you captured the feeling of helplessness very well Pete!
there was a time when i was also taking the train to get to my workplace (was 1,15 hours one way) and then i worked for around 10 hours and when i was on my way back home i thought life is passing out on me (can you say that?)
So this time i was waffling...

Pete Marshall said...

hi dustus...thanks for that great comment..a job well done then!!!

thanks claudia..i did this journey for 16 years from 16 - 32...and i hated every single day of it..until i escaped!!!!!!

signed...bkm said...

agreed...timeless - yesterday and today this could be read again and again....bkm

dustus said...

Read this one again... Extremely clever the repetitive use of the word heels in the poem.

TALON said...

The repetition in the poem reinforced the sameness of days beautifully.

Lovely structure and flow, Pete.

PattiKen said...

This is SO good. It just flows. It describes Monday mornings on the "T" in Boston as well as on the Tube. And I love the British terms we seldom see over here: brollies and brogues. You could do a whole poem filled with them, and it would delight us on this side of the pond, I'm sure. I know it would me.

Pete Marshall said...

hi bkm...thanks and glad you enjoyed it

Thanks dustus...cheers for that

thanks talon..i am glad you picked up on that

Hi interesting thought, moondust and me once spoke about this also, thing is i am not sure what words we have that are different..although pants makes me wear them on the outside and we on the inside..cheers to all pete

PattiKen said...

Pete, I didn't know about pants. Should have, though, since I know those things you wear on the outside are trousers. How about boots and bonnets, crisps and chips (we yanks get in trouble with that one all the time in the UK), loo, lorry and serviette (another troublemaker)... I could go on, but you get the idea.

she said...

"when you find you are living to work rather than working to live...have you ever been there?" yes. It is quite maddening as your poem portrays by it's drumming repetitive lines. Nice work.

Pete Marshall said...

hi have thrown me on boots & bonnets...this is turing into a tomatoe, tomatoe song isnt it lol

thanks She...oh its the worst!!!cheers pete

Eric Alder said...

It's a rat race - and the rat's are winning!

(I quote Charlie Brown: "RATS!")