Dusti Rodes

2014-03-05 12:00 am

A Day in the Life


I Morning

Up early for a Sunday
The clock says eight
But even that's late
For what we have to do
And where we've got to be

Breakfast hastily eaten
A schedule that has to be beaten
The taxi comes just on time
The clock strikes the half nine
The train will leave at ten
So we have to be there then


II In a railway waiting room

People sitting
Waiting for the train
Some just there
To get out of the rain
The sun is starting
To shine now
Making the outlook
Better somehow

The fire
Glows brightly
Offering security
In its warmth
There must be a hike
Somewhere
By the amount of people
Going there
Dressed in their anoraks
And their boots
A passing express
Gives warning toots

Waiting for the train
To friends
Still far to go
Before our journey ends
Although having already
Come this far
Still there are miles
To be travelled
By car
Sitting patiently, waiting
For the train
Marking time
To the pouring rain


III A ride through the countryside

At our destination
We are met
Commiserations
Hoping we did not get
Too wet

Outside the station
They had parked the car
Comfortable seats
Our journey
Not to mar

We are off
Through the countryside
Making quite a pleasant ride
Of our quest
To the coast
Never really deciding
Which we prefer the most

Ever onwards
We are drawn
Towards the outskirts
Of Eastbourne


IV Eastbourne

Eating eggs
Hard boiled
Liver sausage sandwiches
Cheese and ham
Fried sausages
Oranges too
What a sight
For people to view

Throwing stones
Into the sea
Stopping to watch
The tide roll in
Then a walk
Along the pier
Perhaps to stop
For a cool glass of beer

Buying ornaments
Made of glass
Playing the games
That made us laugh
Throwing balls
Into walls
Listening to the radio
In the warm

Then on again
It was said
Towards the crags
Of Beachy Head


V Beachy Head 

Climbing up
To the Bell Tower
Pausing to view
A lonely flower
The long climb
Winding a few
The breathlessness
Well worth the view

On looking out to the sea
So calm
One could scarce believe
It could do so much harm
Then suddenly
The gunshots
Warning us of the coming rain
So we quickly make our descent again

The rabbit droppings
In the tufted grass
Is the sight
I remember last
The gulls wheeling
On the wind
Showing aerial acrobatics
That Man will take
A thousand years
To conquer


VI Newhaven

When the tide
Is full in
It is a facade
To walk along
The esplanade
At Newhaven

For the angry waves
Batter the man-made wall
Persistently trying
To make it fall
Spraying
Unwary travellers
With showers of stones
And the flying
Sea spray
That rusts
Even the lamp posts
Within a month

The road to the west
This is our quest
Pass the ox-bow lake
On the river
That meanders
Through the open fields
Filled with
Sweet smelling air

The road takes us
Past the harbour
Where, the ' Chichester Star '
Lies anchored there
Moored at her rest


VII Brighton

The Palace Pier
On a Sunday
Even in March
Full of people
Having fun

Some lie on the beach
Catching the sun
That hides
Behind the clouds
Of the rain-filled sky

But here we do not stay
Perhaps I'll return
Some other day
The time has come
Not to linger
Drawn ever onwards
By a wandering singer

Dressed in sandals
And in jeans
Singing songs of the
Changing scenes
Sentiments felt
By myself
He did quote.
He sang,
Whilst I wrote


VIII Shoreham

Dark, dank and dismal
Grey and grim
Stands the power station

The side, the day-tripper
Does not see
The squalid surroundings
Of the industrial side
Where the rubber factory
Takes the coke works
For its bride

There, beside a mountain
Of metal scrap
Stands a fellow
In a cloth cap
Surrounded by
Carcasses of cars
Burnt out
By long cold fires

Wasteland covered
With prickly briars
Rubble strewn around
Sweet papers, magazines
Stones cover the ground

The road carries on
Pass the gasworks
To playing fields
Where people sit watching
Others using their energy
To a useless end

A steel girdered bridge
Spans the road
Along by which
The river still flowed


IX Worthing

Having high tea
In the lounge
Sardines, rolls
Tea and toast
Watching the sea
Leave the coast

Playing the pin machines
With pennies
Reading the paper
To find the news
Desperately needing
To use the loos

Off on our trek again
Running from the
Fast oncoming rain


X Half a league .....

Destination somewhere
In the west
Selsey, probably
At the very best

Time, like the tide
Rolling on
Light of day
Has nigh nearly gone

The lights burning
Along the road
Turn from the palest pink
To shimmering gold

Eve draws on
Darkness, soon to follow
A level-crossing
That isn't so level
In fact, the road
Looks like more of a bevel

The road becomes
Winding and long
Making us remember
The young minstrel's song

Following the line
Of cat's eyes
Broken only
By the sound of sighs

A solitary star
Guiding us, as of old
The weather becoming
Increasingly cold

The long boring night
Is broken
By the bright lights
Of the big service station
At Crawley

Say as they might
To me, the most welcoming sight
Was that of The Thorns pud
At Horley

Liquid refreshments
For parched dry throats
Although there was nowhere
To hang our coats

Having once
Quenched our thirsts
The road leads on
To Billinghurst

Then on down
Cowper's Lane
Just as it starts
Again to rain

In the comfortable warmth
Of her home
We are again
Free to roam

Tea for three
And one for coffee
Arguing who'll get to eat
The very last toffee

Onwards then,
Homeward bound
The car really seems
To leave the ground

Till the lights of Croydon
Are encountered
And as we are at our door
" It was fun, we must do it more!"

The two of us
Climb the stairs
Once again
To all our cares

Very quietly
Into bed
Nothing more
It has all been said.


Dusti Rodes (1975)