About Us   Publish and be read! Poetry, lyrics, short stories, scripts, words of wisdom, features, memorials, blogs (a day in my life), memoirs, history, business, and I.T.
Home   Adults   Youngsters   The Plot Thickens   Publications  

More by this Author
© writebuzz® 2004-2020
All rights reserved.

The copyright of each of the publications on this site is retained by the author of the publication. writebuzz.com has been granted permission to display the publications under the terms and conditions of membership to the original site. Publications should not be copied in either print or electronic form without prior permission. Where permission is obtained the authors must be acknowledged. Thank you.
  You are @ HomeAdults Poetry


Source: Adults

Author: jonny graham

Title: Trespassers will ...

I went down to my youth club .
Man at the door said,
" No way ! , it's all full up " .
Baseball boots
squeaking in the rain .
Council estate on a Friday night .
Sixteen years old ,
and I'm bored again .

Doorway kids hiding
in the centre of town .
Panda cars
keep cruising around .
And my mother told me ,
" Don't stay out late " .
As she watches t.v.
in a trance-like state .

The doors of opportunity
are slammed in my face .
Nothing to do
in this forgotten place .
All we have is music
and street-corner culture .
With the echoing bang
of a hollowed out future .

I tried to join
my local football team .
Sign on the door said ,
" We are out of your league ! " .
I need some excitement ,
and I need it bad .
This concrete wasteland
is driving me mad .

Down the train station ,
Saturday at noon .
Just hanging around
with the local youths .
We don't have tickets
'cos we're going nowhere .
Then someone says ,
" Oi you , chicken or dare ! " .

The next train through
is the inter-city express .
Hundreds of tons
of railway diesel excess .
Ninety miles per hour
on a non-stop course .
British Rail's version
of the modern iron horse .

Here it comes now ,
heading into our dead-end town .
You can hear the rails ping
as it's bearing on down .
I want to stand on the track
but there are people all around .
Edge of the platform is the place to be.
If I fall now , I'm just local history .

Then someone pulls me back ,
in the nick of time .
But I felt the pressure wave
from the locomotive line .
Station master , getting in a strop ,
" You lot ! , leave now or I call the cops " .
And I didn't mind taking the blame ,
I was hooked ; dangerous game .

Next day found me ,
further up the line .
Trespassers will...
but not this time .
Standing by the track
waiting for a train .
This is such a rush ,
things will never be the same .

Here comes a loco ,
thundering down on me .
Two feet from the track .
Face on now and I want to see .
Hit by the wall of sound
as it screams by relentlessly .
Rocked by the ferocity
of hurtling machinery .

My adrenalin levels
are going through the fuckin' roof .
Carriages whizz by me
in a blur of greens and blues .
If I reached out my hand
it would take my fingers to the bone .
Six seconds of intensity ,
then it's gone , and I'm alone .

Next train that comes ,
I'm gonna stand a little closer .
Nothing beats the thrill ,
on the edge of overdosing .
The shock-wave pressure
of a high-speed locomotive train,
is an adrenalin-junkie fix
in an adolescent brain .

To hell with this .
I need a bigger hit .
I'm gonna stand between the rails ,
like Piggy , pickin' up sticks .
Here comes the inter-city .
So I take up my position .
Close my eyes, and cross my arms .
Next stop , locomotive heaven .

Published on writebuzz®: Adults > Poetry

writebuzz®... the word is out!