Traffic Jam

on the highway today
riding up highway 95
heading towards junction
where paths split between
Philly and Delaware bridge
in a parking lot on the road

wife is driving, I’m typing
and playing navigator watching
the big GPS screen mounted
in the corner of my windshield
sipping on a sugar free
lukewarm energy drink chillin

looking north, looking east,
looking west for words to write
finding none in this desert
of asphalt and automobile fume
slowly we began to crawl
slowly we claw through the hoard

these are the days you question
your so-called love for the road
these are the days that test
your claim of being a roadie
if you’re riding, it’s more time
for conversation or writing

if you are the driver
it more time for conversation
or time to listen to that CD
that’s been sitting in the jacket
clipped to the visor collecting dust
you play it while your rider writes

before long the traffic jam dissolves
the songs are finished
the poems are written
the skies are cleared of fumes
our conversing continues
as we finally begin to move

Riding the Train at Night


riding the train at night
listening to songs
that tell tales
of tragedy

nursing my own fatal flaws
as my electrified transporter
speeds
through purple trails
dotted with street lights

i reflect
upon miseries
of the weak
and chronically
disenfranchised
hungry widows
orphaned sons
orphaned daughters
fenced libraries
schools with chained doors
and the list goes on

as the train speeds
down the railway
the tears speed
across the tracks
of my face

Thrilled to Be On My Way

zooming down the track today
a day well lit by a stunning sun
snowfall leftovers sparkle on earth
as I eat my sandwich which i
bought from Brewster station
grilled cheese on toast
with tomato and bacon
yes, right now I’m a happy man
thrilled to be on my way

on my way to Grand Central
on my way to Penn Terminal
on my way to Union Station
in Washington DC
to a place of museums
a place of monuments
a place to relive history

to a place to relive tears
of remembrances sad
of remembrances joyous
of remembrances grand
to a place to relive years
thrilled to be on my way
thrilled to be on my way

A Stroll in Chicago

in Chicago this morning
sitting in my hotel room
on the telephone
with the airline
on hold

had a great time here
but i need to leave
before the forecast snow

would love to be here
and walk through
Millennium Park
while flakes are falling

then stroll across
Lakeshore drive
to see if i can see
ripples in Lake Michigan

who knows
i may just take
a low intensity hike
to the end of the Navy Pier

no concerns for slipping
i did bring hiking shoes
the service rep answers
no can do on leaving early

i call the front desk
i ask the clerk,
“extend my stay please
for another night”

i reach into my suitcase
pull out my shoe bag
gaze at my low cut hikers
and i smile

From The Travel Log: My First Road Trip Part II

030My First Road Trip – Boston Massachusetts

“I would love to travel around the world like you do”

Like I said in my previous posts, I hear that a lot.

Previously,

I wrote of driving to Boston. I wrote of leaving Stamford, Connecticut and taking a long route.

Next Post

I drove past Waterbury, Connecticut. The scene of that town from my car window looked like it was painted by Norman Rockwell.

I sped right along until I saw the skyline of Hartford. It was a large city. A lot of tall modern day structures adorned the crest of the cityscape. Standing tall was one long spire that looked like it was transported from the 1940’s. It definitely looked older than the rest of the buildings.

The base of it rose about 15 stories high. The shape of the base was like a rectangular box standing on its end. The texture of the frame looked like concrete and plaster formed into a stone like clay. Large windows adorned each story of the base. Sitting on the base were four thin, tall layers stacked upon each other. Each stack became thinner thus few forming the spire. A long communications antenna mounted the tip.

I drove past. It was no longer in my peripheral. I thought about it a long time as I sped up highway 84 North. I didn’t think it was a high rise apartment complex. I thought it may have belonged to a corporation. A bank? Perhaps it was the home of one or more of the many insurance institutions that pervaded the town.

I drove on. My next milestone would be highway 90 in Massachusetts. The Mass Turnpike. My stomach began to churn in pain. I sat up straight as I felt my equilibrium wobble from the pounding thud in my digestive system. After a few minutes, the pain went away. I worried as I thought about my last Doctor visit. I regained my composure and continued driving.

Stay tuned for the next post…

From the Travel Log: My First Road Trip Part 1

030

“I would love to travel around the world like you do”

Like I said in my previous post, I hear that a lot.

My First Assignment

It was mid-February, 1993. I had just finished my 6 weeks of application software training. I was given my first assignment. Travel to Waltham, Massachusetts and train users on the new manufacturing software.

I was staying at a full service hotel in Stamford, Connecticut. An army of roadies from my company was also there. All of us were packing our bags and preparing to checkout. Most would join me in Waltham while others would head to downtown Boston.

After checkout I was on the road. I decided not to take 95 North. Though it was early Sunday afternoon, that route could still be congested. I would leave Stamford l, Connecticut and take 95 South. From 95 South, I would cross the New York state line and take 287 West. From 287 West I would take 684 North and pick up 84 East. It was sort of a roundabout way to go because I would end up in Connecticut again but the traffic would be light.

Traveling 84 East gave me a chance to see the Connecticut countryside. There were no leaves on the trees, therefore I would have full view of the neighborhoods and towns along the way.

Waterbury was the most interesting to me. You could clearly see most of the town center from the highway. A few steeples and spires stood out amongst the old brown and red brick buildings that adorned the streets. The terrain of the city was not plain flat. It consisted of hillsides and ridges thus adding to the charm of the town. It was not a town filled with brand new buildings. Most of the structures seemed old. It seemed like the structures were built in the 1940’s or perhaps earlier. Again, I thought this look just added to the city’s charm. Looking at it from my window reminded me of many scenes painted by Norman Rockwell.

I smiled as I kept driving on 84 East towards Hartford.

Stay tuned for my next post in this series.