This is a secure announcement. If  

you do not hold a valuable   

ticket, you may be issued   

with a Penalty Fare 

or face possible 

persecution. 

See it, slay  

it, sort  

it. 

Due to today's wet weather, please note  

that services may be slippery. 

We are experiencing  

some cankerous delays  

and luggage may be  

terminated.  

See it, slay 

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By Bill 53 1/2.

You see them standing near you.

On the platform packed with life.

Their fucking vacant smiles

shows no care for the strife.

That their crappy worn out bike,

Will cause all when jammed onto the train.

As it blocks the doors and takes precious space,

And adds tenfold to commuter pain.

Travellers shuffle by,

With many a stumble and fall.

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By Bill 53 1/2.

Spoo on the seats

Snot n dribble too.

Is what I always think about 

when on the way to you.

The loud music is playing

From the selfish prick nearby.

How I want to ream his arse,

with a hot, king size 4n20 pie.

The temperature is hot or cold

Nothing ever in between.

White collar and high viz alike.

Enduring the temps - extreme.

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Ghost Train

This is the ghost train that won’t make the Border, 

Bringing chaos and transport disorder

More cash for the rich, no help to the poor

Closed shops on the corner, all empty next door

Pulling up in Brum, the end of the line

Well over budget, stopped in time

No cotton grass or moorland boulder

No fast trains til we’re all a lot older

No student railcards o...

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Rolling down to london on a train,

the taught and shining buds

of Spring are bursting on the trees.

Wharfedale’s misted in a bluish haze,

but heaps of plastic refuse in the woods

on the drab periphery of Leeds

descend my mood from buoyancy to pain.

Rolling forwards now, the rape fields blaze

and blackthorns bloom with pearls,

resplendent in the boundary hedges

we...

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My early life relied so much on trains,

to catch just one to write about’s a problem!

Too many have been subject to delays 

or cancelled altogether, to applaud them:

the “bogs” I took to school were crammed and smelly;

my backpacker travels, the aura no more fresh;

a record seven hour wait once, in New Delhi;

I almost got killed on the Tangier-Marrakesh…

But overa...

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My step dad, Robin, passed away a short time ago at the ripe old age of 94.  An incredible man, he lived an incredible life, including working at Bletchley Park codebreaking during the war, putting out fires at ST Paul's Cathedral, living in Australia, India, Ireland and Scotland and writing numerous books in his role as a well respected minister and scholar.  He met my mum again after 50 years, p...

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In their wool blend suits

And Primani boots

Crusaders on a mission  

Like jockeys before the National

They jostle for position

As the 7:22 snakes into view

They anticipate her breaks

She grinds unto a squeaking halt

Before the incumbents make their escape

Hands in pockets lined in pockets

Aligned to the doors

They brace and embrace the putrid heat

Swim toward a ...

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It's hot in here.

Humid,

Crowded,

Is it just me who's sweating?

I look around and everyone seems to be in their own word,

Their little bubbles...

Yet here I stand feeling all eyes on me.

Please, don't stare.

The door opens as people rush to leave.

Push and shove,

Push and shove,

As the newcomers join us.

Please stand clear of the closing doors...

It...

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Now the lights are coming on
pink and orange, white and blue
from this distance they seem to melt into an aura
a haze hung above this haunted city

A clock tower looms over the rails
passing through this place I've never stopped here
I know nothing about how it moves or swells or stalls
but the lights all blanket it so heavenly
I think to myself, I'd like to return someday

Always, I fi...

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Unfamiliar livery

Adorns familiar trains

Myriad trees, multi-shaped

Silent window frames

Station signs unreadable

A metal phonetic blur

Speeding on through Somewhereshire

On a train to who knows where

TK Maxx and Staples

Retail worship shrines

Ears burst in tunnels

As beneath the soil we dive

Conservatories and patios

Buzzing power lines

Tearing on th...

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Four days after I wrote this, the following article appeared in the Daily Telegraph:-‘A train company blamed “the wrong sort of passenger” for the problems some had in reaching London for the celebrations.’

The Wrong Sort of Train

We’re sorry the trains are not running you know

Tomorrow we hope they’ll be fine

But nature has dealt us a sad autumn blow

There...

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