Isobel

Coming Home

by Isobel

Thursday 11th February 2010 2:56 pm (first posted Saturday 14th November 2009 6:21 pm)

Plane touches tarmac in Manchester

Heart bumps, bumps again

Grey skies and drizzle without

Dry, cracked and broken within

With just the chink of light

Jet lagged and travel sick

Shell shocked and battle worn

Choked on wasted, recycled breath

Overwhelmed by cold refreshing air

Numbed, stunned, automated

A seat, a number, a boarding card

Confinement cedes to infinite grey granite

The universe and all its pathways

Drums to the beat of two mechanical feet

And the carousel keeps turning, keeps turning

A lifetime’s endeavour compressed into cases

Dragging it all behind

Like an injured leg

Or something that died

Corridors off corridors

Escalators, lifts and stairs

Jaded and dirty

It seems you’ll never get there

Until one day you do

Tumbling out

Into the bright light

Well and truly meeted and greeted

Half the arrival lounge there for you

Or so it seems…

Arms,lips, hands, hair, skin

Drought over

Rain clouds burst

For all that was lost now found

For all that was and will be…

And after half a lifetime you suss

That it was never the weather

The country, the city, the town

The suburb, the street, the house

Just the home…

◄ WOLOP S for October

What's It All About? ►

Comments

Jeff Dawson

Tue 8th Dec 2009 22:58

Hi Isobel, really enjoyed this, great work, the travel theme is like my latest romatic poem (train in piccadilly though not a plane!), appreciate you having a gander if you havent already.

Drought over
Rain clouds burst
For all that was lost now found
For all that was and will be…

Marvellous Isobel, see you at Wigan Jeff X

Cynthia Buell Thomas

Sun 29th Nov 2009 17:07

Isobel, this is outstanding. Your words clutched me, and dragged me to the very end, and dumped me, leaving me feeling wonderful.

Anthony Emmerson

Thu 19th Nov 2009 14:05

Hi Isobel,

Another well-painted truism. I remember seeing (a long time ago) one of those gift-type mugs with a slogan on. It read "Wherever you go, there you are." I guess it's the same with coming back.

Regards,
A.E.

Cate Greenlees

Wed 18th Nov 2009 16:43

A beautifully written and touching piece Isobel. One that many people will relate to in some form or other.
Cate xx

Beulah

Mon 16th Nov 2009 16:58

first few lines (no I didn't heed the title) and I sussed it was about our soldiers...yup good one. hooked me then cooked me then ate me. Spew me out now....! "Well and truly meeted and greeted" I lived in an airport once. Well done Isobel.

As for the Alfie...it is possibly your best- or one of then. Geez

Jon

Mon 16th Nov 2009 16:01

Love this, Isobel! Vivid description of relief after a long period of heartbreak and conflict.Especially liked the lines,"A lifetime's endeavour compressed into cases,dragging it all behind,dragging it all behind".Says a lot about where you've been and poss.moving on. x

Isobel

Mon 16th Nov 2009 15:20

But where and will I like it when I get there? Too often it feels like a garden path...That kind of reminds me of some Diana Ross lyrics - there is a song for every occasion. Thanks for your comment Mr. Black - will get round to reading your latest offerings soon - am a bit behind with my commentng - though my blogs to commenting ration has never been much of an issue. Thanks again - to everyone. x

<Deleted User> (7073)

Mon 16th Nov 2009 08:29

What is in a name? I have seen the inside of too many airports, and I think you will find your brother rides a Harley and a BMW ;-)) XX

<Deleted User> (7073)

Mon 16th Nov 2009 04:43

Yes the poem counterpoint's the surrealism of the underlying metaphor in a more than graphic way. I liked it , and the red shoes of course ;-)

steve mellor

Sun 15th Nov 2009 09:02

Catharsis or not, it still echoes the release of emotion that comes about when you finally get 'home'. Close the doors - I'm safe within the walls of my family
xx

<Deleted User> (6895)

Sat 14th Nov 2009 22:42

hi izz-loved the poem too-moreso the first verse and the ending(don,t tell me,it was easyjet was,nt it!) and a question,the line'a lifetimes endeavour compressed into cases' is that all you have? oh you poor little sausage! can i donate some of my well farted-in boxer shorts to you-camouflage in colour(except the stains)yours sincerely-man of la manchaxx

Isobel

Sat 14th Nov 2009 22:22

Thanks Francine/Dave. Think I've gone beyond the need for catharsis with this one. It was just a memory dragged up by reading a poem Gus wrote - amazing how you can be inspired by what you read...Thanks again.

Dave Bradley

Sat 14th Nov 2009 22:17

This is a very good poem, Izz, there's so much about it that works and makes it powerful. Excellent choice of words to convey what it is like to move 'on automatic' in a mood of grey depression. The repetition of 'Dragging it all behind' is so effective. Much else. I hope you found writing it cathartic! x

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