you slow feet that walk step by step

be quiet and move aside



make way for the wheels in fast approach

blowing horns and puffing black smoke

Car horns slice through the air,
congestion gathers on the roads
making murky smoky trails

There sits a man

whom bears heavy weight;
shrouded, in dark clothing and mystery
Bearded, diligent and wise

Alan is his name

A Scouser if I'd ever seen one,
always happy and yet never alarmed
by the noises and pollution around him

This, is his home

I see him everyday when I pass,
come rain or shine, hail or wind
He sits, diligently and acute
with a paper cup in hand

Living in the open city

He shows that life can be unpredictable,
yet freedom cannot be contained
We've chatted, him and I
He says the institutions can't keep him down

They're out for money and control

This is his freedom, his way of life
to do what whatever he pleases
Tent ready, trolly in possession
Without fear, without order
without rules

Not knowing what the next day may bring

In-Flight Convergence
by Michael R. Burch

serene, almost angelic
the lights of the city                 extend
over lumbering behemoths
shrilly screeching displeasure
they say:
that nothing is certain
that nothing man dreams or ordains
long endures his command

here the streetlights that flicker
and those blazing steadfast
seem one                                   from a distance
descend?
they abruptly
part                      ways

so that nothing is one
which at times does not suddenly blend
into garish insignificance
in the familiar alleyways
in the white neon flash
and the billboards of convenience

and man seems the afterthought of his own brilliance
as we thunder down the enlightened runways

Keywords/Tags: city, lights, streetlights, neon, signs, billboards, trucks, traffic, runways, landing, jet, plane, airplane, brakes, screeching, alleys, alleyways

Rows of angry red
eyes stretch endlessly onward.
Morning “rush hour”.

I prefer avoid using the
Public transport; when i have to go
Out early in the mornings, there are
Only two ways as my commute:
The traffic jam, the real queue of metal,
Man; and the sealed can on the rails with the slingshot attached to its roof; not bad
A thing itself; but early in the mornings it is
Usually crowded with scorching, scolding
Despising each other people; hard to
Avoid thinking something negative in a
Place like this; so I would rather just walk
To my place of study; to study people and
Actions and their consequences by the
Mere observing; for ‘tis my the only work
For now: to observe and note