The Path

Trudging down the path
The beat path I knew well
A path my shoes had smoothed over
And the lack of friction was proper hell

It seems days of walking
Had exposed something buried
And the something buried caught my eye
As along the walk I scurried

Ooh, shiny! said my brain
Let’s stop and take a look
So stop I did before the sand
And another look I took

Nothing particularly interesting
Just probably photo-worthy
For whatever it was, that faux flash
It seemed just quite earthy

But I’m on a well-worn path!
And schedule I must not betray!
Oh, can I stop and smell the rose?
Should I go or should I stay?

As, of course, Smart Alec will say
There’s nothing here to smell;
It’s a bloody sun-reflection
As a closer look will tell!

Well, tell that to my distracted soul
That’s stopped to take a snap
And just as the shutter closed once
Time sneaked up on me and gave me a smack

Heavens, where did my time go!?
The shiny thing is gone!
“Of course, you silly thing,
It only shines when the sun’s on.”

And now it’s 10:30,
And I trudge along home,
The day’s gone, but it’s too early for bed:
Just some more time to waste alone.


As a traveller through unfamiliar lands
I’ve quite a specific quest
The idea is to get home
And you’ve no idea that’s a fucking test

Because I’m walking the plank
Where the captain toots a horn
At 160 decibels or so;
My mental drapes have torn

One step forward, two steps back
Is a waltz in my head
Only it’s played on a landmine:
One wrong step, kiddo, and you’re dead

I’ve nearly slipped and drowned
And I was only walking on a road
My treasure chest is getting heavy
And so are my breath, my curses and my groans

I threw away the map
After tearing it to shreds
Around these parts
Only my eyes can get cred

And my legs seem made of lead
The green man’s laughing at me
Only fifty metres away
Arrive to give the dust company

Who’d have thought crossing a road was hard?
Who could possibly have known?
At just a few hundred metres distance
I’m still a long walk from home.


As a semi-irresponsible occasional cyclist and woke kid who has turned the ignition key in mum’s car before promptly handing her the keys, I am mildly shook by, throughly impressed by, and do fully and disturbingly relate, to every scene with a vehicle present, in the latest Mission: Impossible movie.


[Also, running through the tags for this post, I just made a disturbing realisation: Admission contains the word ‘mission’. College admissions are collegiate advertorial missions. Crap. I mean, it’s not even wrong. Have you tried answering the “Why us?” college essay?
Oh well, I guess we know what the latest Mission: Impossible ripoff will be about!]

Road Tripping

Rugged, rocky and shifting
Like a tectonic plate
The land curves up and down
Like the highs and lows of life
Unsteady, unstable, unpredictable
Every move I make
Is a move I contemplate
Running from the clicking, roaring wild beasts
As I trek through the grays
Scramble to a top, from a deafening roar
As the waterfall drains under me
Wind channel tunnel
Take a deep breath and lose yourself
The jungle gifts your nose more gray
Navigation ain’t about a GPS:
Survival of the fittest
Survivor weed gets run over again.
Symphony of dissonance
Crescendoes to cacophony
Fortissimo, presto!
As you trek through the grays
Walk through the silver haze
When you look to the opaque skies
Glass canopies block your gaze
Home’s the forest, the concrete jungle maze.