The Determined Passenger

I ride the same train to and from work five days a week.

I  take the same seat next to the window near the middle of the car  so I  can charge my phone, God knows why I hardly ever get calls or texts.

I suppose I do that because it’s what one does and when one is in public- one makes the effort to belong.

 

One day a new passenger got on the train and of all the seats she could have taken, she took the one in front of me.

She smiled.

I did not because it didn’t matter what I said or did. I doubt if she even really saw me.

The new person, phone in hand gave the screen  a little swipe with her finger and then she disappeared, as most people do, into the small screen.

New people chat or shift around in their seats and end up being a distraction.

I don’t like to be distracted and I like my quiet-I wasn’t always such a solitary creature. I suppose I evolved into one.

 

As per my customer, I  take my book out of my backpack and found my place. You see I read real books with paper pages because I like the feel of them in my hand. They are solid, they smell good and most of all they ground me here and hold me here like an anchor would hold a boat or ship in place  in a stormy sea.

At exactly 4:12 just before the doors close the usual passengers pile in and claim their seats and as if they were performing some sort of dance together, they all sit and take out their phones and swipe the screens at the exact same moment and like the woman in front of me they disappear into their phones, into their own little worlds.

I am alone now, in the car I ride every single day to and from work- sometimes I wonder where they all go when they jump through those little screens but I’ve never been curious enough to follow them.

 

The Quiet House

Na/GloPoWriMo Day 17 Challenge:  Write a poem that  presents a scene from an unusual point of view.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I used to be like the other houses

that lined the streets of this town

I had curtains in my windows, mail in my mailbox

a dog house in the backyard.

 

One year I was painted white, another year I was painted brown

I had a lawn jockey at the end of my driveway

and roller skates and bikes in my front yard

 

And then one day the mail piled up and spilled from

outside of it’s well worn box

the curtains blew in  and  out  of my empty window frame

my  furnace ran until the oil ran out.

 

My bedrooms are always full of

sleepers who don’t dream or toss or turn

they never get cold or hungry

they never say a word.

 

But sometimes

they wake

and sometimes they walk

and sometimes their dog

who lives far away

snaps open his eyes and barks

 

at nothing, it’s nothing his new owners say

as they watch him run to the window and cry

it’s nothing

he’s just dreaming, let him be, he will be okay.

 

 

Despair The Commuter

Na/GloPoWriMo Day 16:   Write a poem that uses the form of a list to defamiliarize the mundane.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Down to the tracks, rusty old bones

Each morning I ride them, with half open eyes

Sadly they bear me far  from home

Purring in happiness  the blue and green beast steals me away

All around the air is stale with heavy sighs

Iron and concrete unburied remains the air is stale are we all corpses?

Ride the monster twice a day, Despair the Commuter is my name.

Photo A.M Moscoso

The Family That Rock and Roll Together Stays Together

RDP Tuesday: Drop:  How do you photograph a hum? Or is there a picture that makes you hum or an idea.

Music has always been a big part of my life and in the life of my family.

We sing, we play instruments, we go to concerts- and the music we enjoy varies from one person to the next but in the end we all find something we love in what the other person enjoys too.

So here are some pictures that make me hum…and a few songs that popped into my head when I saw these particular pictures.

amm

 

Luis and Julio Moscoso
Photo By A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FCi2u265wxQ