Poems of London

Peace, one and all…

During my recent week-long trip to London, I had plenty of time to watch the world go buy as I travelled through the capital by bus.  As often happens in such ‘down time’, I felt the presence of my poetic muse.  I wrote three poems, which I would like to share with you all.  I hope you enjoy them.

A Fool But Barely Concealed

Here I am,
writing poems on a London bus,
like a fool
but barely concealed.

This scene of reconditioned washing machines
and mothers busily pushing prams
might be thought an odd venue
for the lingering wine of poetry.

But, the top deck of a London bus
is a fine place to look out
upon life’s passing flow
and the rhythm that moves in silence beneath it.

Adam’s Children

A Turkish man lies on a bench,
resting for a moment from the morning’s travail
as a Ghanaian woman buys
West Indian food from an Asian shop.

Kurdish children gaze out upon the world
through the curtains of an upstairs window,
as a young Somali girl speaks into her phone
of life and all its living.

And I sit here on this bus,
a scion of England’s time-worn land,
happy simply to wander
amongst the wondrous diversity of Adam’s children.

These Streets of London

That mad dash for the bus
conjures up the shades of the past,
like a magician
walking all these streets of London.

The crowded streets,
filled with all the tongues of the world,
give way to a single hum,
as this unity in diversity is laid bare.

These streets of London dance with life
and pulse with a rhythm
that has but one source:
our shared, unfolding humanity.

Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman