Can we start the OTHER one?
A rainy friday morning impression.
Sight and faces again contoured.
by Emmy Horstkamp
Conversations / February 7 2024
Informal eight Commute
full of noise and bikes;
Looselipped conversations.
by Emmy Horstkamp
This morning, I commuted to work three hours later than usual. The crowd at the later time is different. The commuters sat together and talked during the trip, a little like the early afternoon commute.
They talked about work and other things which happened the day before or that day. I heard their words while standing near a bunch of foldable bikes. Someone was talking about the bikes and saying that if the queen stood next to a bike, the person might lose the bike if she stood by a bike, the bike could possibly be hers. So if the queen was standing like I was next to his or her bike, the owner of the bike would have to wait to see if the queen walked off the train with the bike or asked him to assemble the bike and then rode off on it.
I realised after hearing this conversation that there is a little bit of risk owning things in the United Kingdom. People of the Aristocracy or the Monarchy could ruin your commuter day by just liking your bike and inferring that they want it.
I promise the universe that if I want a second bike, I will go to the store and buy it. I will never take a bike away from someone except in an emergency, and then I would pay you for it. Promise.
No crying eyes ok.
Waves / February 6 / 2024
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.
Tube Station / Feb 5 / 2024
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
Minutes Till / January 28 / 2024
Consequences - Take Note - Minutes till yesterday arrives.
Today is significant not a now and then.
Being here, now, for a second, is *instant.*
by Emmy Horstkamp 28/1/2024
Start my Day / January 23 / 2024/
Start my Day
-Start- Heater begins to warm. Sitting on the train, I will not be late. Start my day - My Job - Today. by Emmy Horstkamp 23/1/2024
January 23, 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 Horstkamp 23/1/24
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. by Emmy Horstkamp 23/1/24
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.
Mixed Bag / January 22 / 2024
Mixed bag morning train, commuters to local stops and King's cross. Notions of quiet perceived and acquired. Editing the day as it happens / transpires / presents itself. by Emmy Horstkamp 22/1/2024
Forged Footing / January 18, 2024
Poem – Forged Footing
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.
by Emmy Horstkamp 18/1/2024
What are You Saying? – Poem – January 17 / 2024 /
What are you saying? As in missing... Please.
Morning train moves - wizzing, snaps.
Have you heard --quiet--
piano keys on the train.
Falling asleep - Must be somewhere else.
By Emmy Horstkamp 17/1/2024
January 16/2024 Poem Collaboration
Waiting room opens
fifteen minutes to go.
Cold hands, hang on gloves.
by Emmy Horstkamp 16/1/2024
Walking on Steel.
Walking on Cast Iron.
Walking on Concrete.
Walking past black shoes.
by Emmy Horstkamp 16/1/2024
Walking black shoes rapping.
Walking black boots, muffled, stifled.
Walking black sneakers reviewing Iron & Steel.
by Emmy Horstkamp 16/1/2024
Storeyean Poem – Land of thoughts – from Fox Raven Press