Cookies

We use essential cookies to make our site work. We'd also like to set analytics cookies that help us make improvements by measuring how you use the site. These will be set only if you accept.

For more detailed information about the cookies we use, see our cookies page.

Essential Cookies

Essential cookies enable core functionality such as security, network management, and accessibility. For example, the selections you make here about which cookies to accept are stored in a cookie.

You may disable these by changing your browser settings, but this may affect how the website functions.

Analytics Cookies

We'd like to set Google Analytics cookies to help us improve our website by collecting and reporting information on how you use it. The cookies collect information in a way that does not directly identify you.

Third Party Cookies

Third party cookies are ones planted by other websites while using this site. This may occur (for example) where a Twitter or Facebook feed is embedded with a page. Selecting to turn these off will hide such content.

Skip to main content

While I Was Waiting

November 2014

#070

 

As A Light Shone Brightly

I saw signs
of hope
as a light
shone brightly
from the faces
of youth
struggling for dignity
in the face
of devils.

© 30 nov 14 Ángel L. Martínez
The Bread is Rising Poetry Collective

 

Estamos Esperando Justicia

Cuando el viento vuela en la planeta de Ferguson
Que tiene el cielo cerrado
Como un pueblo en sangre
Y sin risa y tristeza
Herido a las leyes santa orden
Ahora soy un cajón el la esquina
En muchas voces juntas
En lágrima y gritos
Y que ve con ojo ciego
Al crimen contra humanidad
Y hoy el pueblo camina en nuestro abrazo
A justicia poética
Y pa’ todo que miran y el polvo y hueso de los Cheyenne,
Arapaho, y Sioux en la tierra del cementerio
de Sandy Creek y Wounded Knee
y el cielo fue el testigo
Golpe de viento y un arbol nuevo crece
O un baile de amor
Libertad para Leonard Peltier en el
Dįa Nacional de Lágrimas

We're Waiting For Justice

When the wind flies in the planet Ferguson
Having an overcast
As a village in blood
Without laughter and sadness
Hurt by the law’s holy order
I am now encased in a corner
In many voices together
In tears and cries
And who sees with blind eye
Crime against humanity
And today the people walk in our embrace
to poetic justice
And for all looking
and the dust and bones of the Cheyenne,
Arapaho and Sioux in the land of the cemetery
of Sandy Creek and Wounded Knee
and the sky was the witness
Gust of wind and a new tree grows
Or a dance of love
Freedom for Leonard Peltier in the
National Day of Mourning

© Carlos Raúl Dufflar 11/27/14
The Bread is Rising Poetry Collective

 

Check This Out

I wanted to be with you
'Cos you looked so lonely
But I had a trolley
And you were baskets only

Robert Brandon
GROW

 

While I Was Waiting

While I was waiting
I sat there debating
What to do whats right whats wrong
I still sit here waiting whats going on
And is this really where I belong
Why is my train so late
I'm really getting into quite a state
I have got an important job interview
A posh hotel in Brighton is the venue
And still my wait for the train continues
I started to think is this job really for me
Or is there somewhere else I would rather be
As I waited I made an important decision
This job for me would be like being in prison
What I really want is to be a musician
So as my train finally pulled into the station
I got up and left without a moments hesitation
To look for the next job opportunity
Next time one that was more suited to me
Something about it made me feel so free

By Liz Jury
GROW

 

While I Was Waiting

While I was waiting for the world to wake up
I noticed that everyone seemed to be stuck
Waiting for an order - "now it's time to go"
like cars at a red light or kids waiting for the bell
So they can put their books away,
and tell their teachers ''go to hell.''

Always waiting for permission to begin
We've been stripped of our certainty, and meekly let it go
Who now would even question, for who are we to know?

Confidence and common-sense
attacked from high and low
A parade of self-styled experts
Spewing forth their rancid streams
Of conjecture and hypothesis
That somehow always go to show
That what we hear and feel and see
And what we think and what we know
Is never what it seems.

They point their fingers, judge and blame
in rapid fire succession
schools, food, drugs, drink
friends, games, work, stress,
foreigners, badgers, disabled, sick
parents, poverty, TV, teachers and
we're back again to schools
But like my dad always says
"It's only a poor workman as ever blames his tools."

While I was waiting
Hoping for a final solution
For someone else to take up arms
And start a revolution

But fearful of reprisals,
Our liberty, our life, homelessness and sanctions
We meekly stand in endless lines
Waiting for the better times
Choosing eat today, heat tomorrow
But tomorrow never comes
Because we're paying more for less
no matter how we do our sums
The hunger keeps us coming back
Food donations 'for the poor'
We watch in horror as we see
Others in more abject poverty
Close our eyes and look away
And every day we hope and pray
that today it won't be me
searching bins, for food, for free

And those we chose to lead us
Have led us, led us all astray
As we stumble through their minefield
shell-shocked soldiers, mute with fear
They shake their heads and tell us sadly
"It's not our fault that times are bad"

But it's getting harder not to notice
These times are, for them at least,
the best they've ever had

Ashley Jordan
GROW

 

I Come From

I come from slum clearance, waiting forever
for posterity and re-generation
the men at the bookies and the bar
and the women and kids just survived
washing day on Monday’s
and back to backs
I come from riddled streets, hammering,
woodbines and smog
I come from Co-op divi,
Clarks sandals, knitting
games of cards on a Sunday night
an inside bathroom when I was eight
I come from a Christmas annual
free school milk, skipping, Enid Blyton
and home-match football programmes
a family of hard labour and clocking on
a Welsh Nan and an unknown Grandmother
from the past before me
I come from a secret
I come from Sunday morning; Family Favourites
variety shows, party games, picnics
and days out from the bricks
I come from ants disappearing in cracks
and drunks to avoid on a Saturday night
except I nearly got caught once
I come from busyness
I come from a back-yard
from my dad cutting air, turning the knife on a stone
from tarmac, walls, gates and entries
street-games; British Bulldog 1-2-3
from the sound of demolition
of rubble, rubble, rubble

Footnote: This poem was written as ‘homework’ (as I suggested) from a local writing group I have just joined (Chirk Writers Circle). One lady read a poem in this style – by Robert Seatter - Seren 2006 from ‘On the Beach with Chet Baker. The brief was to follow the poem style – of writing, of where one lived in the past – but ‘clipped’ without falling into nostalgia and rounding the poem off by linking the beginning lines to the end lines. Repeating the original poem – and repeating the words ‘I Come’.

Jan Hedger
GROW

 

Finger Press

As I waited for justice
Secret policeman
Using pliers to lengthen finger nails
And crush the truth
Attached electrodes
Whilst eating doughnuts
The sugar glistening on the bare cable ends
As they twisted them on to terminals
And the soft body parts
This report does not mention

I waited outside
For the screams seemed to
Vibrate the blockwalls
And hurt my ears
As the anal probe
Was deployed
Though this was
Redacted from the official report
And I stated I was present
When Blair's name was mentioned

The floor was soaked
In fluid
Water mainly mingled with bodily fluids
A board with straps stood unused in the corner
But fresh vomit made me gag when
I returned to collect my jacket
As the pocket held my
Glasses and my room key
And I didn't want to have to wait
To be let in

I waited for the plane
And whilst I did
The crew who had handled
The rendition were stood down
Straw didn't want them on the return trip
A fresh crew oversaw the loading of the coffin
Whilst I again waited
This time
For the papers to be produced
As it had to be official

We are all still waiting
But I'm sure it was his heart
The report said it was whilst he was trying to escape
Though this wasn't released
In 25 years maybe
But don't hold your breath

Andrew Henry Smith
Stevenage Survivors

 

While I Was Waiting

The Sun went down
while I was waiting.
The night in her black cloak
passed by. It covered all stars
and Moon didn't show up.
I was still waiting
in the morning
while I was watching first snow,
tomorrow's rain
and Spring's thawing.
I was still waiting: for what?
My happiness is sitting
in recliner watching TV.
While I was waiting
life was happening.
I was waiting
for something better to come.
Next day I looked back
and found out
something better
just happened yesterday
and it isn't coming back.

Marie Neumann
POW

 

While I Was Waiting

I am sitting in a bar in Portugal that overlooks
The turquoise ocean. I am surrounded by other holiday makers
And soft music filters softly through the air. It is nearly dusk and
the sun is beginning to set. The blue sky reaches down to meet the
Gentle lapping  waves. I am enthralled by a long strip of lilac
that begins to appear on the horizon. I am so happy to be still and quiet
And grasp this beautiful moment. The sand is golden and shiny .
I watch as the sunsets, colours beyond my imagination stretch like a
ball of fire across the skyline. Lilacs, mauve, mellow yellow, orange
and deep scarlet intertwine with one another. I stare at the sunset as if I
Am seeing it for the very first time. I hang on to it taking in every minute
Detail from the very first moment it captures my eyes. I take photographs
every two seconds because the sunset changes in moments. My mind is
Clear and I feel a sense of freedom, it's just me and the sunset
I am surrounded by so much beauty . I am content
To sit and be.

Sue Rabbett
23rd October 2014 (11.36 am)

 

While I Was Waiting - I Went Mad!

Magnets! I was given this message recently and, then I realised, all my life, but this time I was listening a little bit better.

It's more than magnets, it's mirrors too.

Mirrors, magnets, me and you.

What am I waiting for? Waiting? I've been waiting all my life OMG why did I not know this?

Hmmmm. Let's reflect and revisit my past, what touched me the most? Music and stories! These are key to me but I don't understand why or what they're saying. Questions, I've always questioned things. Hmmmm LISTEN! Listen to me. Go within to seek the truth. So I meditate and listen. At first not so much but very quickly for hours a day, sometimes totally obsessed. GOD why am I sooo obsessed?

More messages, I was told to relax and listen to my soul, try a little harder. So what was I missing aha Listen to what I say to others. Hahaha I'm going mad!

But I know I have good friends on Facebook, they already know I'm a bit crazy. So I post as if I'm talking to myself a little more boldly each day. But discipline is important, I'd made a promise and I don't break my promises. So I go back and reread what I've been posting - a new obsession. More messages coming faster and faster WOW this is magic. More sleep is needed to process it. More crying and less food. Crying never killed me before and it didn't now. Maybe I'm invincible! Hahaha I'm sooo loving this madness!!!

Soon I don't have to look back, I'm getting better, I can see more clearly each day FAITH! I'm gaining faith, but in what? Myself. YES I did this, I gained faith in myself by challenging my fears and overcoming them. Hmmmm but why now? What changed to give me the courage to do this and more importantly, what am I waiting for now cos I'm still waiting? Hmmmm It can't be what I think it is cos that really would be madness Hahaha Duality and rainbows, building bridges between me and.........?
What is this game of life. Let's challenge this reality. The power is slowly coming through......what power? I'm not a witch!
Who gave me this new found courage? What am I waiting for?

Aha music and stories - go back, reflect and reread. What did I dream of when I was a little girl? More crying is needed, more forgiving and love, a new obsession! Maybe this madness isn't so great! Maybe I was better off when I knew less.

But wait I made a promise and I don't break my promises. I can do it cos I believe in him. Hmmmm When did I make this promise?
Aha I remember, remember - more messages coming faster and faster WOW How can I tell if it's a dream? Promises of love OMG sooo much hope in a dream of true love ahahaha this is stupid I'm not a princess! More lessons and tests, keep the faith and believe.

Hmmmm. Shrek or Prince Charming? Well I fell for Shrek, so kill me! I'm more like the beast than beauty and I'd rather be a peaceful warrior than an angry Queen of Hearts. On with his head hahaha - gotta be non-compliant, that's the second key after questioning. Outwardly compliant, inwardly do what I feel, cos only a fool would be able to trust themselves and defy reality, unless they really were in their own Truman Show hahaha!

The magnet inside me has changed, I no longer repel you. You came down as you'd promised and defeated my 7 monsters. The doves were sent! Peace at last.  Not feeling so mad now you've returned, it's turned to magic. I'm high on your love and respect you for having the courage to tame me.

And now I know I'm being guided and supported, it is inevitable that we can do this and I do mean WE. This is really happening........I am an Angel and I HAVE the power to grant you all the wishes you'll ever want for ETERNITY because TO me you are truly scrumptious, so SMILE for the camera and take a bow.

This Xmas ring the bells, sing, celebrate and believe in your dream. We will be getting our wings. It's reward time......So make a wish on us as we shoot through the night sky, I promise you we will give you anything you want, and I don't break my promises.

This is the real NWO - the power of love

Veni Credo Libertas

Credenda Alexander (Candy)
GROW

 

A Wee Problem

I went out this morning
And bought myself a bottle.
My friend Nigel has one
But he has never used it.
It's just a precaution
In case he gets caught short.
He said that I should get one
And keep it by the driver's seat.
So I paid a fiver,
Which was justified because
The traffic's getting worse.
I can be stuck for hours.
The problem's not the mileage,
It is the congestion
That begs the burning question
Of whether I'll last out;
Or will I need the bottle
So I don't get a damp patch
When sitting in the car.
There's whiskey in the jar!

Andrew Diamond
Goodmayes Writers

 

Afterwards

Guessing what while I was waiting
I forgot to pick up my mind when
I boarded the bus Dalston Junction wrong bus the wrong function
and while I was waiting to get off it
I lost or stolen forgotten my glasses
But while I was waiting again
I had the lottery numbers come to me
But while i was waiting for the lottery
The numbers didn't come up
And now while I was waiting again
I have picked some more numbers
Sometimes while I was waiting for
It's not easy waiting for Easter bunny
Some might find this upcoming funny
While I was waiting to write wrapping
This below to see the light is still there
Someone tapped with their finger
On my shoulder to hear about the last.at
Afterwards while I was waiting..

John Joseph Sheehy

 

While I Was Waiting

While I was waiting, letting the moment go,
all the buses came and parked up in once,
and no one thought to take my place,
but for time, with its 'after you, after you'.

Bruce Barnes
Friend of TheFED

 

No Case To Answer

Standing at the carousel,
Though I know my suitcase well,
Other people’s look the same.
Punch up at the Baggage Claim.

Oh how bravely we all fought.
Then they took us off to court
Where, they found, I had no case.
They’d flown it to a different place.

Tried to claim on my insurance.
I was praised for my endurance,
But to pay they were unable;
Doubt about the luggage label.

So my case is truly lost
As I found out to my cost.
Where my stuff is no one knows,
If you find it, wash my clothes.

Andrew Diamond
Goodmayes Writers

 

The Survivor

Three soldiers in a shell hole.
He was in the middle.
The guys on either side
Took bullets and they died,
Both shot in the head.
Three mates, now two were dead.
He was in a hell hole;
Mud and blood and piddle,
But he was alive.
He knew that he’d survive.
So, he got up and ran
Then died, a nice old man.

Andrew Diamond
Goodmayes Writers

 

While I Was Waiting (Comrades)

We were just chatting, me and Arthur.
Sort of whispering really quiet and low
Talking about the old days in the war.
Well I never even heard him go.
I was reminding him of invading France
Us running hard and hiding in them logs.
Well, I just thought he was clearing his throat
Didn’t know that he was popping his clogs.
So I reminded him of how brave he was
Charging that German machine gun nest
How he got a medal and commendation
I didn’t realise he was laying himself to rest.
I’m really going to miss my old mate Arthur
Though I do chat to him at the cemetery
We were so proud of our wartime regiment.
Now it seems the only one left now is me.

By Jim White

TheFED - Network of Writing & Community Publishers While I Was Waiting

Wot Next

jesUs this is tough, not hairy, warm 'n' comfy enuff,
just stuck again all wot I want to do won't happen
all not done stays undone
inch by inch i do like doing things but run out of things to do on my computer
my brain wants to work some more wots better than the telly thats my life
nice being here wot next will tell you later remind me am back in sieve mode
tum ti tum tomorrow will be good too scaling down down down to wotever fits
is probly lie down but but but but I like being here
in my chair so wot next feet up hot drink think it thru its just me as it should be
eveyone's gone very quiet its one of those nights

afoot
West OLondon

TheFED - Network of Writing & Community Publishers While I Was Waiting

Forty Years

what are waiters waiting on inbetween the tables
I left the rest of this poem behind in a house on the green
where the Head of the English Literature Dept lived
across from the College, I m still waiting
for all of my poem to return 40 years later
it was in a notebook, maybe I should write to him
since I never went back for it when I left town.
I thought it was very good, I wonder if its still there
I still think I might remember the rest one day.

If Ted Hopkins reads this ~ did you find it?

afoot
West OLondon