Riding the TransPennine Express Train

Cloudy skies loom over the English countryside

Green fields and tiny houses with well trimmed gardens

The train is packed with commuters

Everybody is glued to a smartphone

Annoying Rap music escapes from headphones but nobody says a word

Brits love to suffer in silence with a stiff upper lip

Vandals leave their mark with colorful graffiti on bridges

A stark contrast to the dark stone aged by centuries of pollution

We are riding the TransPennine Express

Mighty steam trains first conquered this route

No billowing smoke and steam from today’s silent electric trains 

The smell of soot replaced by the bitter aroma of hot brake linings

Tired white faces fill the platform at Wigan North Western station 

Patiently waiting to be swallowed by the electric propelled tube

Going home after a long boring day at work

We pull out and pass a cricket field with manicured turf awaiting the white suited players.

They always stop playing at 4pm for tea and cucumber sandwiches

England is so civilized 

The train picks up speed towards Preston

The hills of the Pennines gently roll by 

Train commuters oblivious to the moving canvas of breathtaking scenery

Green fields surround the tracks but the wind swept hill tops are bare

The train carves a path through the once thriving industrial heartland of England

Cotton weaving mills are mostly gone or converted to trendy apartments 

The coal mines closed after Prime Minister Thatcher crushed the industry

Shopping malls replaced factories

Wind turbines fill skies once littered with mill chimneys 

Tourism has outstripped manufacturing industry

Sleepy villages become overloaded with summertime visitors  

White collars outnumber blue collar workers 

The train parallels the A6 road to Scotland

Once a stagecoach route slowly taking passengers by horse

Now congested with BMWs and Range Rovers

Our train pulls into the historic city of Lancaster

Born from a Roman camp on the banks of the river Lune

The ghost riders of forgotten steam trains don’t recognize the changed lands of jolly old England

The red wine internet express

The Virgin train bound for Glasgow

Pulls out of London’s Euston station

It’s the day after the London Marathon

The train is packed 

Luckily we had reserved seats 

Passengers carrying marathon memorabilia 

The spectators are mostly fat and middle aged

Young thin men in sweat pants are obvious participants

Returning home to resume their routine life

After their 3 hours and 22 minutes of fame

What stories will they tell back at work tomorrow?

Perhaps all has been said via social media

Aching muscles twitched all over twitter

Tired faces painted all over FaceBook

Crossing the finishing line in an instant instagram

Hardly any spoken conversation on the train

Thumbs are stabbing away on phones

Digits digitizing details to distant dudes

High speed internet on a high speed train

The passengers are just captive internet traffickers

“Would ye like a drank”

Said the lady hostess in a broad Glaswegian accent

Stunned passengers looked up from their phones

Rudely woken from the silence of cyberspace

“Red wine please” was the unanimous response

Internet surfers refueled with alcohol

As the train speeds relentlessly north

The buildings of the city soon replaced by cultivated fields

Rape seed crops rape your eyes with bright yellow

Do the farmers wear sunglasses I wonder

The digital marathon internet warriors started to fade

Maybe they still surf while napping

Brains wired to Bluetooth transmitters

Redundant thumbs unused

Future generations will be limbless

Marathons will all have virtual runners

Spectators will be bathed in virtual reality at home

No need to travel to any events

Trains will sit in rusty graveyards

Retired Glaswegian hostesses will drink red wine at home

When a raging fire of hate words comes your way, extinguish the flames with words of kindness and love

words spewed out like regurgitated food

offensive, unpleasant, insulting, hateful, rude

angry politicians swear and shout to be heard

erupting volcanoes of red hot angry words

words from a platform perched much higher

raining down on you like artillery fire

words fly on missiles laser guided

aimed to keep the world one sided

exploding word bombs of hate and venom abound

no escape from this ear shattering sound

words beamed through space by satellite

enticing distant angry people to take up arms and fight

words are the weapons that start today’s wars

its ironic that history has seen it all before

but gone are the days of mob rallies and war inciting speeches

today’s words of hate are cowardly facebooked and tweeted 

don’t be afraid to respond to all this hate

just give them what they don’t expect, graciously delivered on a plate

unbait the hater’s hook with a tasty worm of kindness dipped in love

throw out your love worm bait with a cast from high above

the haters will bite at anything thrown their way

but once they taste kindness it will be their change day

go into battle with your love and kindness war cry

haters will be thrown off guard by your unexpected reply

they will eventually surrender their weapons of hate

no winners or losers in this love-hate stalemate

embrace your former haters as newly found friends

As you all jump into the love and kindness river that flows but never ends

A Haiku Short Story: Dangerous Times

Dangerous times now

I am attracted to Jane 

But she is married 

Dangerous times now

I did fall in love with Jane

She lives down the street 

Dangerous times now

Her husband caught us in bed 

He burst into tears

Dangerous times now

Jane told me she is pregnant 

Who is the father?

Dangerous times now

Jane is best friend of my wife

They do talk a lot

Dangerous times now

Jane suffered a miscarriage

Her husband cried more 

Dangerous times now

Jane caught her husband in bed

My wife was with him

Dangerous times now

Jane and her husband left town

My wife cries a lot

Dangerous times now

I just shot my wife three times

She is dead for sure

Dangerous times now

Dumped my wife in the bay

Body weighted down

Dangerous times now

Jane said she loves me again

I have to kill her too

Dangerous times now

Jane in the bay with my wife

Her husband cries more

Dangerous times now

All three now sunk in the bay

I have peace at last

Dangerous times now

An angler just pulled up Jane

Police knock at door

Dangerous times now

I made up a crazy tale

My wife and her man

Dangerous times now

Police look for them all over

They think he did it

Dangerous times end

Nobody bothers me now

I am a killer

Foggy inside and out**

I woke up in a fog 

my mind was groggy and dazed

it was foggy outside too

my body was in phase with the weather

drinking green tea did not clear my head

the fog stayed thick outside

was the fog leaking out of my head

or leaking in from the fields outside

perhaps I was dehydrated  from drinking wine

maybe I had not slept long enough

my overloaded brain needed a rest

how long would all this last I wondered

the sun started to burn off the fog outside

but my head remained foggy all day

like I was drugged or poisoned with a toxin

I gave up thinking because it was too painful

my body was in low energy mode

no point in strenuous exercise

this had to be a day of rest

despite extra hydration I felt foggy the entire day

the next day my head was clear when I woke up

my energy levels were back to normal

I tackled the day with vigor

taxing my body and my brain really hard 

then a thought struck me

how awful to be foggy all the time

to have you mind and body in a permanent foggy straightjacket

while others around you live large with a clear head

We often take our health for granted

a short sharp aberration reminds you

be grateful for being in good health

have compassion for those less fortunate

A wilted rose will never again be a flower in bloom

You say you want to be friends

I don’t need to remember the pain

Of a broken relationship

Which can’t be fixed

By a friendship bandage

The friends I have now

Love me unconditionally

I don’t need a new friend

Who used to love me more

We once crossed that sacred friendship line

To become eternal lovers and soulmates

Until you decided to walk away

A wilted rose Will never again be a flower in bloom

Silent ballet dancing on water

your kayak glides through the calm waters of the bay

your paddles silently enter and exit with precision

steady purposeful rhythm

with all the grace of a ballet dancer on water

stop paddling occasionally and glide

your silent floating platform

gifts you a perfect vantage to explore nature

sounds seem to amplify over water

the call of a bird

splashing of a leaping fish

the gentle hiss of the wind

you soon become tuned in

soak up the beauty of the lush green marsh

observe the osprey building a huge nest

watch the jellyfish float by

see the deer wandering along the edge of the tree line

study the motionless heron fishing in the shallows

be in awe of the bald eagle flying overhead

a boater passes by

the roar of his engine and the loud music blasting

disconnect him from all natural sounds

he is traveling too fast to be connected anyway

his passing wake rocks you gently

the only evidence of him being on the water

his footprints are soon swallowed up by the bay

you paddle further along the edge of the marsh

making more marsh memories than the boater will ever know

learn the art of making human glue**

glue is such a fascinating substance

take a walk down the adhesives aisle at the hardware store

there is a glue for joining almost anything to anything

wood glue, plastic glue, metal glue, glass glue..

but there is one glue that you just cannot buy

its never been manufactured

its human glue, the stuff that bonds people together

the stuff that keeps friendships going

the stuff that creates long lasting relationships

so if it cannot be bought then how do you find human glue

you have to make it yourself

unfortunately there is no human glue recipe book

however there are some well researched ingredients

if you want to have more meaningful relationships

here are some ingredients you should assemble

Availability

being there for somebody

making time for them

showing up at the promised time

answering calls or texts promptly

Vulnerability

taking that big step beyond small talk

sharing your feelings fears and phobias

opening up about traumas in your life

trusting somebody enough to open up your soul to them

Communication

learn the art of listening

repeat back what you think they said

take note of non-verbal signs like expressions and body language

Physicality

touch

intimacy

either platonic or non platonic

everybody needs a hug

Empathy

learn how to feel another persons emotions

understand what they are going through

let them know you understand their feelings

Love

learn how to prioritize another person’s well being or happiness above your own

share your feelings and emotions of attachment, affection and need

Once you assemble all the ingredients you should go out into the world and find somebody to practice with

human glue can be messy

it sometimes comes unstuck

keep trying and eventually it will work

happy human glue making day

Dream controller**

My memory stretches back over sixty years

I rarely think of childhood days while awake

But when sleeping I am a kid again

Happily playing games in a schoolyard that no longer exists

Hard to remember that first day of school

Big buildings and noisy playgrounds

details are filed somewhere in my head

Teachers voices so clear in my dreams 

I like to walk on beaches 

Roaring waves fill my ears

Those teenage years living by the sea

Can only be relived vividly during slumber

Two score and ten since my first love

Her sweet smiling face so close in my dreams

Filling my heart with joy and passion

I dare not ask if still utter her name in my sleep

My university degree was forty five years ago

I have dreams about those final exams

Waking in a cold sweat of worry

Why does my mind go back there at night

Sixty years supporting Liverpool Football Club

Early days watching games in packed stadiums

Today’s players fill my wide screen TV 

I score the winning goal nightly in bed

As a boy I dreamed of racing cars

In my twenties I owned a racing mini cooper

I won a race in 1980

I frequently see that checkered flag waving at 3 AM

While sleeping last night I held a new born baby girl

Watching her first breath in awe

She is a grown woman now

With her own baby 

My son is living the music city dream

Performing in Nashville

He dreams of being a rock star

He is still a happy playing five year old boy in my dreams

More than thirty years since my father passed

His face and Scottish brogue are fond memories

We still have great conversations today

Interrupted so rudely by my alarm clock

Over twenty years since losing my mother

Her love lives on in my heart

In troubled times she visits me

Those dreams more real than the present

It’s so much fun to wake up 

Next to the girl of your dreams

Recounting the adventures of the night we just had

That she did not know of

I am living my dream life now

Filling my days with what I want

Having adventures that were once only dreams

Surrendering my nighttime thoughts to the dream controller

Changing reflections

He looked over the side of the boat

Catching his reflection on the surface of the lake

He saw the face of a young boy

He put his hand in the water to break the image

Many years later on the same lake

Hanging over the side catching his reflection

He saw the face of a fine young man

He put his hand in the water to break the image

Many years later on the same lake

Hanging over the side catching his reflection

He saw the faces of a father and his young son

He put his hand in the water to break the image

Many years later on the same lake

Hanging over the side catching his reflection

He saw the faces of a older man and his grandson

He put his hand in the water to break the image

Many years later on the same lake

Hanging over the side catching his reflection

He saw the face of an elderly man

He put his hand in the water to break the image

As his hand touched the water

Another hand reached up to grasp his

Pulling him into the lake

He sank into the murky depths

The boat went out over the lake

A man and his son threw flowers into the water

The young boy leaned over the side

I miss you grandpa he whispered

Many years later on the same lake

Hanging over the side to catch his reflection

The young man saw the face of his grandfather saying

I will always be with you