Route 425


Walked from cinema, streets black in hue

Flashing lights shone, the bus gleamed new

Tumbling rain drizzled, neon lights blue

The bus-stop beckoned a threatening due.

 

My beat had quickened, pacing heart too

Looking to the left, my stomach ached through

Three homeless slept cold, braving the dew

Feeling guilt I shrivelled, sorrow told true.

 

Flashing lights cracked breaching the sky

Warning a clap, booming a-nigh

Waited in rain for 4 2 5

Street lights flickered, rain withered and died

 

Hopping aboard, I hustled to sit

Nearing the back I found an abyss

Eyes leered behind and burned anear

I was being watched for no iphone was here

 

Android shone brightly, mapping my way

GPS directed me traversing its way

Broken white lines twisted and turned

Fulfilling the ride all choppy and churned

 

Amber shone dimly, passing a must

The route steered right, passing a bus

Drawing to station, passenger alone

Holding her hand – signalled to throne

 

Red lights shone, doors flung in debate

No welcome aboard, sat driver in wait

Fighting her way drawn to a close

Rested her head to a nearer abode

 

The bus tunnelled, white tiled once new

Main road arrived, traffic was few

Darting our way from pillar to post

My destination seemed so handsomely close

 

My trip had finished, a walk was due

My saddened thought had made me blue

I wished I had helped the poor three men

I knew I must return to them

 

Tomorrow I will make a vow

To brighten their night somehow

I wish to make them feel anew

For this is something I must do.

Route 425

Photographed using my Google Nexus on location

________

Give to help.

Don’t be stubborn.

Be assertive and caring in what you do.

You will become a better person if you do.

Until next time – Happy Shooting!

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Awaiting the Ferry to Circular Quay


Waiting for my transportation, water splashed about of the sides of the sea worthy platform. The ferry to Circular Quay was running late.

I sat gazed at the tourists fumbling with pixels hanging from their necks. They seemed persnickety about photographing the outdoors, stressing about every setting their cameras should be on.

Appearing from the depths of shiny bus, excitement shouted over distant outboard motors as the gathering continued to grow into a dozen or more. A spotted a Nikon DSLR, Android, Canon compact and Galaxy Note as they amassed the beautiful bay. Fingers pointed and smiles erupted at the beautiful scene before them.

After a quick talk from the well-suited driver, one member broke from the group signalling the other eleven to follow. Ostentatious shirtless surfers watched on, filling in the midday waves with a spot of relaxed fishing. I had to hold back a chuckle watching the centipede of chatter shuffle down the boardwalk, the group walked back and forth, briefly stopping to capture what seemed to be the same image.

An old Australian couple sat alongside me shaking their heads as the entertainment forwarded. Clothed in pristine slacks, ironed polo shirts and bleached matching hats, I imagined they had lived in Rose Bay all their lives. Their obnoxious concerns were voiced a little to loud as the unconcerned group walked past their comfort, “their noisy aren’t they?”  I sat up in disbelief could they be so rude? Even if they didn’t speak English I’m sure a ventriloquist could have been more silenced.

For me I was reminded about my new world, a world, which was separated by money and class. Australia as I knew it was becoming a stronger divide. I simply hoped respect could be learned and not taught by the older generations.