As we stare pointlessly at the skies
And sweat as we swallow the stuffy air
The wondering waves don’t realise
That we are even there.
Our bus stop thrones: an empty lair
Where we can safely hide.
While people think there’s nothing there
They still don’t dive inside.

No matter how hard our souls have tried
My good friend Mr. P and I
Have failed and wailed and often sighed
As cold, lonely air dampens eyes.

Sigh. Cry, cry and re-sigh.
Will it be noticed if we die?

We sit upon our bus stop throne
And eternally wait for that bus ride home.

Waiting, staring, waiting,
Possibly debating
To do... nope.... more waiting.
Staring, blankly staring.
Looking, but not seeing
What passersby are wearing.
Not acting but just being
And certainly not caring.
Me and Mr. P
Simply letting life just be,
Simply watching and waiting,
While bus stop lives are living.
We’re not taking or giving,
But sadly staring, crying, waiting.






Movement. Finally he moves!
Uncovering such painful truths
That smash the usual daytime grooves
Of crying, eternal waiting,
Thoughts of dying and hating
Every second spent on a gum-ridden throne –
My secret the inevitable stone
****** into the pools of thought
And now that he knows he ought
To finally end that misery streak
As the traffic soon will meet its peak
And satisfaction he will seek.

Ten years ago this very day
He had such awful dreams
That his only friend was taken away
But a dream twas all it seems.

Now - an announcement of the truth
To put us both at peace.
A time we shared on Earth aloof
And now the pain will cease.

It was all too much - that fateful day
That came ten years ago
And to my friend, Mr. P’s dismay
I walked onto the road
And entered the usual bus
That together we’d usually get:
Dark blood splattered it and thus
Cooled the burning summers sweat.

Not much has changed since then,
We still haven’t gone very far.
We stayed at that stop: the men
Who were hopeless at driving a car.
Eternally we remain
As friends on our bus stop throne
But now, he too, has ended the pain
And we can take the same bus home.

He sprinkles this sugar on the world
Trying to make it a little bit sweeter.
Our response suggests he succeeds.

Each grain spinning like a hurricane,
Frozen droplets floating towards the earth
Until they kiss the frozen ground.

Confusion, as they aimlessly drift through the air.
Billions build up and coat the world
In a blanket of peace, hope and wild dreams.

Hugged plants are squeezed a new colour,
Rooftops too, are repainted white.
The bitter cold troubles no one.

This frozen sweetness engulfs the land,
And perfection is amongst a youthful world.
Perfection that thrives in the luminous dark.

But, nightfall slowly realises our fears,
And when weary eyes awaken to the morning sun,

All of Earths hopes and dreams
Have started to melt away.

My mother, the Caribbean Sea,
My father, exotic sand,
Amazing that they created me
Out of this tropical land.

Wave after wave caressing the shores,
Giving my father a smile.
Here, my being was put into course-
The soft beach of Seven Mile.

Here, where the soothing sand meets the sea,
The playground of Edward Teach.
This is the place that created me-
A big, fat son of a beach.

Sent to prison for killing Autumn,
I made the same mistake last year,
Each bar an icy steel column,
Separating me from summers cheer.

My feet are numb, my fingers frozen,
Kept from the world in my frosty pen.
I reflect on the lonesome path I’ve chosen,
But know I will do the same again.

This prison is hell, chilled to the bone.
The warden called Weather is rather glum,
Winter does that to a man starved of home,
Its freezing walls are fast to benumb.

I beg for pardon of my crime,
I feel remorse and true dismay.
I am defrosted just in time,
To be released on Christmas Day.

I reflect on Winter’s release of me,
And wonder what the future will bring?
The gloom defrosts inside of me,
As my heart is warmed by emerging Spring.

Here lies a calculator, once unstoppable,
Together we solved the world’s problems.
Your black buttons warmed my hands,
While my head was cooled by the solutions you created.
Stress relieving buttons,
How I often mistreated you,
Slamming my fingers into your soul,
Jabbing your rugged terrain.
My intelligence blossomed with you at my side,
But now you have shrivelled up,
Shedding your petals, one equation at a time,
Until you are planted in the grave you resemble.
I etched my name into you
At the start of our glorious friendship-
A sacred bond that would last forever.
Now, at the end, I engrave again.
This time there is no solution.

Waves beating the rugged rocks of the coast,
Rapidly eroding the soft susceptible sand,
Engulfing homes children have long since deserted,
Drowning a man eternally asleep, and
Neatly knocking down a carefully built wall.
Barrage after barrage attacking weekend achievements,
But it is Monday now and school beckons.
Nobody is here to remember the dead.
Alone, nature watches the sand funeral instead.