Maybe it’s raining. The wind blowing at the office building, “Water damage,” said the guard.
by Emmy Horstkamp
The waves from the Thames Pigeons fluffed on the walkway Cobblestone bypass.
by Emmy Horstkamp
The poems above were written while walking to an office along the Thames. The walk between one office space and another took me past the Tate where a group of birds were sleeping on the onramp to the bridge. I walked as quietly as I could around them. The group of twenty fluffled their feathers but did not walk or fly away.
This area of London is quiet before eight and I walked to London Bridge without having to stop.
Wait! Two cards to choose.
Better get them out now,
not knowing which one I used,
Exit by the bridge owing for the ride.
5/2/2024 - 6/2/2024 by Emmy Horstkamp
Say it Gale gust.
Bike weather delayed now
wind and rain pounding the train.
byEmmy Horstkamp26/1/2024
Storey Tarris UK – Commuter Series 2024 – January 26, 2024
This morning the walk to the station was a moment between gales. Reaching the platform, the rain gusts threw rain horizantal and soaked only half of the platform. There were a few people sitting on benches, a few people standing in the rain and a few standing on the other side of the platform which stayed dry.
The poems for today focus on the rain starting and stopping with the wind.
-Look right-
Streaming rain against the windows.
The train is faster than the rain.
by Emmy Horstkamp 26/1/20024
Full-moon-set illuminating the morning for split-seconds.
Three minute deluges stopping a moment.
The beginnning of a simple day dry.
by Emmy Horstkamp 26/1/2024
Today I woke up an hour before I had to be on the train. The time I start my day is important only to me. I am not on someone else’s timeclock. I start my day early to take photos on an empty train and to get to my workspace before the chatter of coffee breaks begin.
Today, at 700 there was coffee chattter… the first time in two months. I’m not sure what happened to bring all those people into the workspace on a Tuesday. I missed the usual quiet work morning as people spoke nearby. I did not get my usual few hours of work before other people crawled their way into my mind.
I wrote the above poem this morning. Below are the two poems that inspired it.
-Start-
My day or I will be late. 5 more minutes.
My morning or I will be the only one. OK.
My job on time - This is a breeze. OK.
by Emmy Horstkamp23/1/24
Heater begins to warm,
Sitting on the train, I will not be late
Starting my day - my job - today.
by Emmy Horstkamp 23/1/24
The third and first poem I wrote is:
The time starts my day,
not the only one early,
the breeze starts it's day.
byEmmy Horstkamp23/1/24
Each morning, I write small short poems in three different books and then use these poems as inspiration for my longer Storeyean poem.
The longer poem for today is about my commute and the words surrounding me at the office space. Some words from the above poems are used in the longer poem but, all four poems say different things about my morning in the UK.
Strong lights casting attention on polished wood & steel. Forged footings set for embarkation, entrant to the commute on Stand-by. The onset of Thursday set for seven bats-of-an-eye.
