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The Road is Paved with Good Intentions. / 8 September 2014

Yesterday I wrote this poem on a path.

'Do not step here, my dreams have fallen out of my pocket and are hard to find again.
Don't grind them into the ground or I will have to wait for the rain
to feed the daisies to push them back up again.'

I didn’t have to aim it at a particular audience except humanity in a part of Brixton, South London.

Didn’t know if they liked poetry or art beforehand. But it made everyone who came across it stop.

They read it, asked questions, and gave me knowing nods, but the best thing was that they stepped gently around the poem, from the child to the drunk to the woman going home with her shopping.

Nobody complained of vandalism. Vandalism belongs to the world that steps onto dreams.

 

 

Comments

Dolly Sen

/
10 September 2014

Yes, I agree Colin, waiting in the rain for your dreams to come is hard, but waiting in the rain for dreams that are gone is even harder.

And Deborah I think I need to write a whole set of poems not for print but just for pavements. In the meantime, I am going to use my chalk for mischief and plan in the next week or so to write things like: 'I wouldn't stand here if I was you.' and 'Nothing to see here, move along.'

Deborah Caulfield

/
9 September 2014

I really like this - the poem and that you wrote it on a footpath, in capital letters (not easy).

Will you do more?

Colin Hambrook

/
9 September 2014

Sometimes it can seem like a lifetime of waiting, for the rain to feed the daisies to push your dreams back up into the air again. And you have to be ready for that moment, because they can so easily pass and leave you with the realisation that you've ignored your dreams.