Poetry Bus Poem - Newsflash

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Commuters were unhappy on the N4 yesterday morning,

stuck in their cars, engines ticking over, minds a blast.

The memory of last night’s vegetation by the telly, a whirl with the lads,

or kids fighting the notion of sleep, looming dangerously high.

Miles of immovable traffic on tarmac with white lines going nowhere,

instruction signs and numbered distances that they have long since tired of.

A form of silent madness hovers, thoughts itching at the far corners of their brains,

believing now, this could be their moment.

As the seconds turn into minutes and the hand brake is pulled reluctantly up,

as the legs becomes semi-paralysed, and the foot eases on the accelerator.

When holding the steering wheel is as pointless as working out how long?

Something long forgotten, a hint or a notion, a daydream takes over.

And they start to remember, when they didn’t have a car,

when they ran or cycled to all everyday places.

And the breeze was their engine and their feet turned the wheel.

When it was okay to be late for everything, except blinking school.

And a character in a TV soap was more important than their parents.

When music filled their soul, instead of their car radio,

and life was for living, in the here and now.

When they too were a person, with hopes, dreams and a future.

And before they even know it, a sort of smile starts to take over,

just a tiny hint at the upper edges of their mouths,

rising to the kind that might be embarrassing,

as they each start to wonder.

Why did life get so complicated?

Why did they forget how good it could feel?

When falling in love was for falling back out again.

And everything was a blast, because it just shagging was.

A cosy feeling takes over.

A long lost sense of self.

And they look all around them, and a belief starts to simmer,

a belief, that if they wanted, they could be that way again.

Cause change is in the detail, never in the substance.

And the person behind the wheel,

is that young boy in the race, or that girl from the ‘under 12 final’,

that both were triumphant.

In the distance a green light holds movement,

and they, like their cars are ready for the go.

So they get into position and the progress is heaven,

Cause the wheels in their mind are in line with their engine.

Newsflash: Commuters got happy on the N4 yesterday morning,

traffic jam turned silver lining,

stuck in their cars,

all minds a blast. 

NEWSFLASH