Airports make me anxious.
There is too much going on, too many gates and times and delays and people.
They are ***** and crowded. They make me feel small and tiny, iridescent.
They are good for people-watching and spending too much on rather cheap food.
Airports make people obnoxious. People forget their manners as they scramble to the flight that they're already late for, bumping into me along the way with no apology offered.
Airports are huge, massive. Their size is daunting to me; I can so easily get lost and deviate from the path that leads me to the correct gate.
Airports are lonely. Nobody makes eye contact anymore with strangers, so I'll sit alone and read a book and maybe drink some tea or coffee, occasionally looking up to see if anyones looking at me.
Frankly, I do not enjoy airports. But I enjoy you.
So I will sit in an airport someday, sitting cross-legged and reading near a window. I will listen to some music and ponder whatever comes to mind until my flight arrives and it's time to board. I will board my plane, leaving behind the bothersome airport to come see you.

Airports
I never liked them
I never liked taking my shoes off to go through security
I never liked the crowded and sometimes cold atmosphere
I felt like a toy in a factory getting ready to get boxed and shipped out
Airports
But maybe I should
Like them
I'm sitting here in this terminal watching people rush past with their briefcases and screaming children
Where are you going?
Can I come too?
Where are you rushing off to and
Must you always rush?
Someone once said to try to find the quiet in an airport
I will try to find the quiet in an airport
Maybe I'll find it, maybe I won't
But quiet in an airport
What a concept
Airports
I'll find the quiet
Airports
Maybe I will like them

There was this kid
May 3, 2011

There once was this kid who was afraid of airports.
He had many fears, but flying was not one of them.
- Just the airports.
He tried and he tried as hard as he could to prepare for his travel experiences,
but time after time, something would go wrong.
and then one day, he missed his friends and family soooo much,
that he decided he needed to conquer the big, mean airports.
and it was with that positive thinking, that he entered, sent away his suitcase, and boarded his flight,
all with no problems at all, what-so-ever.
The kid who was once afraid of airports, did it!
He accomplished his goal and made it home with time to spare, receiving tons of warm welcomes, hugs, and kisses.

Now That, is the story I would like to be able to tell after my adventure later today, coming back home.  :)

Airports are intriguing lately.
They're your refuge.
They wake when ordinary people are in a sleepy bliss.
They hold secrets.
And runaways.
And hidden doors to the unknown.
Tender kisses.
Solemn cries.
Broken hearted lovers
No chance to say goodbye.

These airports feel things only poets seem to write down.
Emotion fills the halls.
As passengers avoid the fall..

This airport seems so lonely.
Take me with you.
Let us fly.

By: Cedric McClester

They’re holding ‘em
At airports
Stopping them
From coming in
What’s being done
To some Muslims
Border on a sin
Is this the price
They pay
For their desire
To be free
It smacks
Of blatant racism
If you’re asking me

They’re holding ‘em
At airports
Like cattle
In a bin
In the name
Of homeland security
“Least that’s
What they pretend
The countries
Have been named
But none from Nine-Eleven
Their number
To be exact
Totals out at seven

They’re holding ‘em
At airports
Because of
Their religion
You can say
What you will
But he’s made
His decision
Based on
Little else
Other than
Irrational fear
In the face of principals
We used to hold dear



Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2017.  All rights reserved.

I hate airports.
I hate the vibrant colours, the staff who work happily, even through the mass of sadness that countless others are experiencing around them.
I hate the food, which is good, but sometimes, the bitterness of leaving sinks to the taste.
But most of all, i hate the the idea of parting, the idea of saying goodbye.
No matter how near or how far I may go, just knowing that I’ll be away from your grasp is painful enough.
I hate waking up on that day. The surrealness of it. To know that in a mere 24 hours, this won’t be home anymore. My last day on that bed. My last day with those people. My last day on that ground. My last day breathing this air, until well… god knows when.
I hate seeing you. I love you so much, but seeing your dead eyes, and seeing how your inner pain is so great that it’s affecting you physically, affects me too. I hate seeing you struggle to be strong, even though the pain is evident.
I hate hearing the plans for our trip.
The bags and boxes that served as my storage unit and dumping grounds, all neatly packed up, just like the day we landed. The only tie I have to the place that serves as my “home”. Really, “home” to me is a home away from my real home.
I hate the feeling of guilt, knowing YOU are the one who’s leaving a hole behind. That though it’s hard, it’s always being left behind that hurts more.
The voices and extra noise that I made. The late night guitar playing or the early morning screaming. In 24 hours, gone.
All of it parts on a metal tube in the sky. Planes….
I hate that "back to normal" feeling, that lack of presence that we leave behind. I hurt them, even though I don’t want to.
Then there’s the ride going to the airport
Please, come with me. I need you here. Just a few more minutes. Just another second. Anything.
Every little inch closer to the airport, I have to look out the window, act like I can’t see your eyes through the reflection. Act like I don’t know what you want to say. Act like I’m just giving this place “one final look”. Holding back the tears.
Mess up my ticket. Burn the plane. Pop the tires. I don’t want to go.
I wish I didn’t know these streets, but I do. I know the ride. I know the locations. I can tell we’re getting closer.
I know you don’t want to be here. But please stay with me.
I want to know how much time we have together until I have to leave.
i can already imagine, during that ride back...
The black stain of absence that I left. The emptiness of everything, and the pain you’re facing.
I wonder why you seem like you can barely move. Like you’re wearing shoes made of -
Oh.
It’s the weight.
I’m sorry.
I look back at the spot on the bed that I used to take up.
I hate taking these photographs.
The smiles I give are always fake, and I know yours is too. We pretend, because at the end of the day, there is no happy family. Not today. Not while we have to separate.
Please don't capture this moment.
Please give me a hug.
Don’t let go. A part of me prays something inside you goes berserk, like in those supernatural movies
That maybe you’re keeping some sort of secret power or trump card that you’re waiting to use.
That maybe you might grow wings and take me away from here so we miss the flight.
That maybe you just whisper “run” and for some strange reason, we just run away, buying even just a few moments. A few fleeting moments.
It'll be awhile before i get another one of your hugs, so please, hold me like it’s your last because god forbid if I die on that plane I’ll never get to hug you again so please.
Even though you’ll feel empty after, please. It’s so selfish but god, do it for me.
Thing is, I know deep in my heart I’m not the only one feeling this sadness
Right and left there are goodbyes
There are couples who are a few goodbyes away from a long distance relationship
There is a kid who is clinging to her dad's leg telling me to stay or take her along because he's working abroad
There are people sharing words to family members who live far away
There's so many people feeling the same, but... it doesn’t take away from the pain.
“Have a safe trip!”
I want to die.
“Call us when you’re home!”
I am home.
“Don’t cry”
You’re lucky you can’t see into my soul, because I’m not crying. I'm bleeding.
“Come back soon!”
I don’t need to leave.
“Bye”
I don’t want to go
"Bye"
Don’t push me away
"Bye"
Why did you make me leave this place.
"Bye"
I don’t want to go…

bye.

I hate airports

Something funny about airports
My childhood
Teenage independence
Young Adulthood

Two hours
I said goodbye to you
One week from now

I’ll see you again

But airports are funny
My body thinks I’m leaving you
Until next summer
My body’s been conditioned

To believe goodbye means indefinitely

I know you may not get it
And that’s okay
Please don’t think I’m being clingy
When I say “I’ll miss you”

The fiftieth time

It’s just a Proustian moment
juicy mint chewing gum
with crackling eardrums
Sends me back in time

To that funny thing about airports

Where hellos are met with goodbyes

Impatiently, I wait

When the goodbye is met with hello

In the supermarket airport
There are arrivals every day.
The departures in your trolley
Come to you from far away.

Those brightly coloured vegetables
Have sat around for days
In what we’re told are
such hygienic backroom bays.
They’re obviously picked and packed by well paid sprites and elves!
Then magically appear on your supermarket shelves.

Here every carrot is straight and clean
And every lettuce crisply curled
Then gassed in plastic packets
That are filling up our world!

Take a glance inside your trolley
And if what I say is true
Then I guarantee the food within
Has seen more of the world than you.

Like the picture on the packet
Of your frozen ready meal
The colour of this far flown food is great
The taste experience, surreal.

Those ripe tomatoes in their reddest skins
We should dye brown, to match their taste
Those vivid orange carrots are a mystery of flavour-
What a waste!

A plate of vibrant promising hue
Can taste of packaging and glue.

The supermarket tells you you’re in clover
But its goods have all the texture of an old pullover.
Your supermarket says that it is catering for you
But if you’re honest do you really think that’s true?
If you don’t then there is something you can do.

At the supermarket airport
All the money’s in departures
So put that trolley back
And just depart.
If you're wanting to be vocal
Then shop seasonal and local
And hit these psuedo airports at their heart.

Airports are filled with lonely people longing for their long distance lover, business men traveling for work, and wanderlust travel.
The last time I picked someone up from the airport he didn’t know how much inside me I needed to unravel.

And I didn’t know the emotional baggage he had brought along.
At first it was lovely, it was everything I wanted and more…feeling love, and sleeping next to someone who accepted me even when I was wrong.

Then, it got ugly, we started fighting and screaming at each other,
I started drinking heavily to numb myself one after another.

One night he told me to hit him, and I unclenched all the madness inside of me, emotionally I was bleeding out.
He still stayed and reminded me every day that I was okay, I was safe, and explained the things I knew nothing about.

That was then and this is now, I see airports and become sick to my stomach feeling devastation.
I hate how all of it feels, and it feels like the extra luggage you don’t need on vacation.

It’s like I was dreaming the whole time and sometimes I want to reach out.
We knew each other like the back of our hands, he made my heart dance but now I can’t stand in crowds at the airport because I drown in my feelings.

A place so permanent:
concrete, metal, glass,
immense and withstanding all.
Yet they come and go.

A place so permanent
for an action so fleeting.

i hate airports
i hate the dull colors, the staff who do nothing but the usual routine
i hate the food, if that's any good
but most of all, i hate the idea of parting, the idea of saying goodbye
no matter how near or how far you may go, just knowing that you'll be away from my grasp is painful enough
i hate hearing the plans for your trip
seeing your bags packed in the living room, boxes set just for extra storage
i hate the feeling that something's missing in a home
the voices i once heard, the noise which i didn't mind
they all part on a stupid plane
i hate that "back to normal" air you leave behind
the ride going to the airport
please, just, i don't want to go but you asked me to
every time we inch closer to the airport, i look at you and i want to beg for you to stay but that won't do any good
not anymore, it never will
who am i to mess up your ticket and your flight, right?
the road signs that indicate how close we are
i don't wanna see them
but i have to
i wanna know how much time i have before you get on that plane
i can already imagine the ride back
in that ride alone, you've already left a big mark of your absence
i'd wonder why i could finally move my legs around
then i'll figure it's because your luggage is finally gone
even the seat you sat on is enough to get me to tears
anyway, please don't take photographs
i hate that too
please don't capture this moment where the minute you go in, it'll be the last i'll see of you, at least on the soil i stand on
don't give me a hug, for god's sake don't give me a hug
if anything, i might never let you go
it'll be a while before i get another one of your hugs, so please don't give me a hug
don't give me a hug just to let me feel the emptiness once you walk away
thing is, i'm not the only one feeling this sadness
right and left there are goodbyes
there are couples who are a few goodbyes away from a long distance relationship
there is a kid clinging to her dad's leg asking him to stay or take her along because he's working abroad
there are people sharing words to family members who live far away
there's so many people feeling the same but... why does it still hurt
"be good okay?"
i promise
"we'll call when we get there"
because we both know we won't be able to feel each other physically anymore
"don't cry"
just give me a second
"we'll be back soon"
don't give me this uncertainty
"bye"
don't say that
"bye"
please don't say that
"bye"
don't say that, it'll make me regret ever seeing you arrive in the first place
"bye"
don't say that...

i hate airports