Roddy Williams – The Atheist Poet

2004

Excerpt From My Haiku Diary – 2 August 2004

wake up, wash, dress, drink
coffee, go to work, come home
tv. food. bed. sleep.

(repeat haiku till death)


Tube Woman I (2004)

I saw a woman on the train
neither beautiful nor plain
but one whose face had
fused forever to a single
frozen mask of shock.
Her eyes held wide
her mouth downturned
in grim and permanent
disdain,
like twenty-five past seven
on the clock.

‘There’s something in her eyes’, I thought.
‘That look of stunned surprise,’ I thought.
‘I think that it’s betrayal.’

Then she got off at Paddington
and changed for British Rail.


train (2004)

doors would not open
we waited to push the doors
watch the train tip, fall

it lay with its wheels
turning impotently
trying to grip air

then we cheered
for reasons complicated
but justifiable


Excerpt From my Haiku Diary – August 21 2004

mourn the extinction
of typewriters, dodos of
the computer age

 

their keys will form a
geological strata
thin as a ribbon.