Hi everybody and I hope this offering of soon to follow poetic verse finds you well.  I’m still quite new to all this “writing a blog thing” and in terms of always having interesting stories for people to read, this is where I struggle a bit.  I think that’s mostly down to time, but maybe there’s a small lack of enthusiasm in there as well. I suppose if I set aside some time after normal working hours or at the weekend I might be able to knock one or two interesting stories together.  As I usually tap these offerings out during my working time, and my time is generally limited, I find putting one or two lines of poetry together to be the best and quickest way of trying to create something interesting for whomever out there is reading this blog.  Maybe for those of you that appreciate reading a bit a bit of poetry, perhaps my blog entries do not sit so badly, but I’m sure that there are people out there that want to read essay type stories and not just poetic versions of them and with that said, henceforth, I will endeavor to try to write to cater for a wider audience.  Until then, I wish you all well and I hope next week’s a good one for you all.  Here’s the last part of my poem about getting my licence renewed – Read ‘n’ Reap.  See you next week.
I’m in Samezu continued and concluded.
We’re now onto the DVD.
And at first glance it looks interesting to me.
People are recalling the tragedies in their families.
Of all the road accident fatalities.
In regions and localities.
Most of which are simulations of the actualities.
Which I no longer want to see.
So I stop watching the TV.
And decide to just sit there and be an enduree.
We’ve now reached the half way point.
And it’s time to put a break in the lecture.
All baring me and another lecturee.
Have gone out the room to refresh themselves with coffee or tea.
I’m quite happy sitting here and moving my pen across
the lines on the pages on the memo pad.
That I’m putting ink on trying to keep my poem going.
I am now flowing, but because of the sitting duration.
I think I’ll pop out and relieve myself of my bladder full of
early morning breakfast libation.
And when I get back I should be able to write about some of the
alienation surrounding me in this room.
The last lecture enters the room.
The lecturer closes the door.
It’s all going to be over quite soon.
I glance behind me and look at the clock.
It’s twenty past one.
Tick ! Tock!
The DVD has finished and the lecture is now all over.
The numbers and hands on the clock face have finally met.
And it’s time to get out and on my way.
To pick up what it is that will justify my stay for all this time.
I join a line and wait for the person handing out the new
licences to shout my name.
Finally I’m shouted and I am directed to a woman in window nine.
And then I encounter the same lame comment that I got from the
guy in window five at the beginning of my forfeit of time.
The man looking woman or manwo comments that my name’s too long.
I don’t know why she had to say that.
So I asked her if she was wearing a thong.
It’s the same difference.
Those comments and their incomplete irrelevance.
Are enough, written from a close enough distance.
A poem by Stephen Austwick.

Hi everybody and I hope this offering of soon to follow poetic verse finds you well.  I’m still quite new to all this “writing a blog thing” and in terms of always having interesting stories for people to read, this is where I struggle a bit.  I think that’s mostly down to time, but maybe there’s a small lack of enthusiasm in there as well. I suppose if I set aside some time after normal working hours or at the weekend I might be able to knock one or two interesting stories together.  As I usually tap these offerings out during my working time, and my time is generally limited, I find putting one or two lines of poetry together to be the best and quickest way of trying to create something interesting for whomever out there is reading this blog.  Maybe for those of you that appreciate reading a bit a bit of poetry, perhaps my blog entries do not sit so badly, but I’m sure that there are people out there that want to read essay type stories and not just poetic versions of them and with that said, henceforth, I will endeavor to try to write to cater for a wider audience.  Until then, I wish you all well and I hope next week’s a good one for you all.  Here’s the last part of my poem about getting my licence renewed – Read ‘n’ Reap.  See you next week.

I’m in Samezu continued and concluded.

We’re now onto the DVD.

And at first glance it looks interesting to me.

People are recalling the tragedies in their families.

Of all the road accident fatalities.

In regions and localities.

Most of which are simulations of the actualities.

Which I no longer want to see.

So I stop watching the TV.

And decide to just sit there and be an enduree.

We’ve now reached the half way point.

And it’s time to put a break in the lecture.

All baring me and another lecturee.

Have gone out the room to refresh themselves with coffee or tea.

I’m quite happy sitting here and moving my pen across

the lines on the pages on the memo pad.

That I’m putting ink on trying to keep my poem going.

I am now flowing, but because of the sitting duration.

I think I’ll pop out and relieve myself of my bladder full of

early morning breakfast libation.

And when I get back I should be able to write about some of the

alienation surrounding me in this room.

The last lecture enters the room.

The lecturer closes the door.

It’s all going to be over quite soon.

I glance behind me and look at the clock.

It’s twenty past one.

Tick ! Tock!

The DVD has finished and the lecture is now all over.

The numbers and hands on the clock face have finally met.

And it’s time to get out and on my way.

To pick up what it is that will justify my stay for all this time.

I join a line and wait for the person handing out the new

licences to shout my name.

Finally I’m shouted and I am directed to a woman in window nine.

And then I encounter the same lame comment that I got from the

guy in window five at the beginning of my forfeit of time.

The man looking woman or manwo comments that my name’s too long.

I don’t know why she had to say that.

So I asked her if she was wearing a thong.

It’s the same difference.

Those comments and their incomplete irrelevance.

Are enough, written from a close enough distance.

A poem by Stephen Austwick.