h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Early morning rush hour
train after train arriving
doors bursting open
like dams bursting at flood

A busy river
a tidal wave of people
sweeping through the tunnels
lapping at the walls

Yet -
Can you see the pattern? The whirls?
Can you feel the current? The rhythm?

Driftwood caught in the current
no one colliding
no one stumbling
everyone steering free

Swiftly drifting
left, right, across
paying attention
all antennas out

Individual
yet general
Impersonal
yet considerate

See that woman making a soft curve
to avoid the man with a suitcase?
See those teenagers slowing down
allowing a zimmer frame lady to pass?

Brave souls navigating
against the stream
across the river
and succeeding

Mutual understanding
mutual consideration
mutual evolved ability
to survive in an ant hill

Nice way to see something that scares me irl.

Reminded me of Tokyo train/subway stations during rush hour

BTW, what, pray tell, is a 'zimmer frame lady'?

Picture of zimmer frame courtesy of Google:

http://images.google.com/images?q=tbn:8zX9LWRYikkJ:www.newburyvolleyballclub.co.uk/zimmer-frame.jpg

I think that's the US name for it - can't remember what the British call it...

RJR


Zimmer frame is what the British call it


RJR

USAians call it a walker.

Ti, it sounds to me as if you were hovering all the action, taking it all in.

I see. As far as I know, Canucks refer to them as 'walkers', generically, and the wheeled ones oxymoronically as 'rolling walkers'

I must say I prefer 'Zimmer' ..

A 'google' reveals that the Zimmer company produces these and other orthopoedic devices...

So this is akin to the famous adjustable wrench, commonly called a 'crescent' wrench, because the Crescent tool company popularized it.

~~~~~~~~~~

btw, I like the driftwood analogy. I often feel like a bit of wood, haplessly tossed about by the capricious waves and eddys...

Lovely, Ti.

I've been meaning to ask. Do you write poetry in English? Or Swedish and translate?

Without h2g2 I would never have discovered that I can write - eh - stuff that people enjoy reading. It still feels a bit presumptuous to actually call it poetry...

In my teenage years I made several attempts to write poetry in Swedish, but I never managed to get the words to flow, and never found any rhythm.

Then one winter day, when I had been for a walk in the forest, I wanted to share the experience with my h2g2 friends. I started writing a short story about it.

I began writing it in English because that's how I do when I speak English - I don't think in Swedish and then translate into English, but I think in English from the start.

I really wanted to convey the atmosphere in the forest, so I took great care when choosing my words, I switched one, replaced another. By the time I was ready and gave it a final read through before posting, I felt a sort of flow in the text.

Intrigued, I started breaking the sentences up into shorter lines - and tadaa! It almost looked like a poem! I was baffled - surely I hadn't written a poem - in *English*? Because I *knew* I couldn't write poems.

Well, judging from the comments I got, people did see it as a poem, and I was thrilled!

But most of the stuff I write is done the same way as that first time. I observe something that I want to tell people about. I take care in choosing my words when trying to describe it. And sooner or later, there's that feeling of some sort of flow in the words.

To me, rather than poems, they feel like contemplations, or short stories. And I've found it much harder to get that 'flow' when writing in Swedish, so I prefer writing in English.

They are excellent, regardless of what you call them. So whatever you're doing - don't change! I always enjoy them. You have the ability to create an atmosphere that jumps out at people. Impressionable in a vivid, yet gentle, way.

http://www.webster-dictionary.org/definition/poetry

"A by any other name..."

I'll just add my to the list. I do like your ability to contemplate over a moment - in that respect this reminds me about the previous one you did about sitting doing some waiting at the Stockholm central station

Funnily enough, I seem to reflect in a somewhat similar way - though my musings seem to prefer to come out as prose. At least they're in more and longer lines, sticking together in paragraphs

Now - if only I could make myself take the time to convert the half dozen contemplations that sit in my Palm at the moment to somewhat decent writing... *sighs*

The urge to do them seem to be stronger in some periods of time than in others. Or I'm just too lazy...

Good then, that you keep up

Beautiful, Ti!

Well Santra - I enjoy reading your 'contemplations' too - we seem to share the appreciation for nature and the change of seasons.

Converting your Palm notes - can't you just copy and paste them in the - the - dang, forgot what it's called - Palm Utility thingy?

In Swedish I'd call my writings 'betraktelser' - is there a Danish word corresponding with it?

Well, sure I can (though atm it must go via my w**k PC as I haven't dared try establishing sync'ing with two machines)

But they're not in a - ummm - finished state. So ideally they should be transferred and polished. And it's the last of those steps that seem to be buried in some kind of quicksand...

'Betragtelser' probably could be used I don't know if it is really a proper word, but it'd be understood. 'Overvejelser' might be another - but maybe reflects more thinking than seeing...

(and it's morning so I'm not at my sharpest )

*repeating that last point*

- and , btw...

Ti, this was a wonderful flowing piece of work. Thanks for sharing the "how to" of your craft. I'd not realized what you went through in order to get to your finished product. That's a rare insight and it makes sense to handle it that way, putting your thoughts on paper in the order and with the flow you 'experienced' at the time you observed the event.

I was swept up in the poem at the point you likened the throng of people stepping from the trains as "like dams bursting at flood". You depicted the organized chaos as "sweeping" and "lapping", yet you could visualize the fractal patterns, the rhythm and pulse of a collective entity. Your description of the types of movements--action/reaction--rang so true, as anyone who's been in such situation could attest. If one is new to it, unsure of where to go, how to proceed, I'm certain they'd feel just like a piece of "driftwood". I also caught your use of the juxtaposition of "impersonal" yet "considerate". That's not always the case in our larger cities. Glad you live in a society where manners are still considered an asset in daily living.

When I read the passage about "a zimmer frame lady", I thought you were using an adjective, meaning something like 'zaftig' (heavyset, well-proportioned). Thanks for clearing up my personal ambiguity so I now know what to call those walking-aid gizmos.

I especially enjoyed the final stanzas describing those folks who need to cross the 'sea of humanity' in order to reach their goal, and the diligent effort and tact it requires to do so. Again, your observation that they do it without adversely impinging upon the rest of the throng was delightful. I can still see those "[b]rave souls navigating" carefully, gently slipping into a gap, deftly merging with one flow of the current, only to side-step into another counter-stream to backtrack a few paces in order move closer to their intended destination. Not in a rush, watchful and observant of the foot traffic's ebb and flow , gauging the tide and its possible perturbations, taking advantage of each change in direction.

B4isitatacafe&watchtheworldgoby

Eh, B4 - you observed all that in what I wrote?

I mean - of course you did!

Your comments could be made into a poem by themselves actually - quite eloquent!

Yesterday, I happened to arrive at the main railway station smack bang in the middle of the afternoon rush hour - and what a pleasure it was....

No, really - when I say pleasure, I mean pleasure. So pleasing to the eye to watch the even, never ending flow of people, smooth moves, and yet again those going across and against the stream seemingly so easily...

Some tourists stopped in the middle with huge suitcases? No problem, just flow around them.

A queue at a ticket counter? No problem, just some minor waves.

The sheer beauty of it - like a performance on stage, meticulously coreographed.

And that got me thinking - how do all these people know whether to steer left or right?

The body language is so discrete as to almost being imperceptible - but yet, the clues are there, however subtle.

So I focused on my own signals - ah, I seem to aim my look in the direction I'm going. If I'm approaching a narrow passage, I tend to ever so slightly push forward one shoulder and pull the other shoulder back to indicate if I'm steering left or right.

Body language - either you get it, or you don't...