three intermezzos

Dear readers,

Finally, the exams are over. and theokwek is finding himself awfully bored. But what better to do when bored than write? Here're two poems about a fictional train ride - a mental journey of putting one's feet into the shoes of a commuter.

How often it is

that after the heat has

passed, we return to

our silent abodes;

and realize that we have

nothing to do.

The Straight Times Editor

Between Carraiges

On the train,
my favourite spot is on
the shifting wrought iron floor,
between carriages,
where sliding wall-plates
caress my shoulder-blades
with every revolution,
as I rest my weight in
their wriggling grasp.

After all, life, too,
is a space between words,
and we the silent creatures
suspended in this
interuniversal dimension –
where we put our trust in
the flimsiest things.

Commuter

Every train ride 

offers a different
perspective of things.
Especially when exams are
finally over, it
seems like everyone,
and not just
me, is suddenly
relaxed. College lovebirds
flock into the
emptier train, doctors
shrug off overcoats
as they head
to lunch, ancient
gents clamber smilingly
onto unusually clean
seats. The announcement
blares the wrong
station, but somehow,
in the collective joy of
one relieved soul,
it is forgotten.