Day 1 of Street Line Critics on Tour in Helsinki. Photographs taken by Anastasia Artemeva and Lotte Bender.
They who rushed around, showed me the importance of their goals.
They who looked around, showed me the beauty of my place.
Rochus van der Vaart
The train approaches the station, but I am not ready to board. I’ve packed my suitcase like an actor acquiring props, just for show. Everyone around me, once motionless on benches, rises to the arrival of the long, red box. No longer safe amidst the cover of sitting, I feel exposed in my uncertainty. Maybe I should turn back and go home; “going home” is something my feet prefer to do. But the red box waits on the tracks, patiently, as if it were privy to all of my thoughts, all of my troubles. “All aboard,” it smiles.
New Orleans, LA
What’s that noise?
Whoa! Look at that!
Is it a bird?
Is it a plane?
No, it’s a train,
Here it comes,
The red, long, brick shaped machine,
Proudly gliding to its next stop,
Towards the gates of the earthly heaven, it goes.
If you’re not having fun, you’re not living,
A smile on your face, will show you are willing,
To pass through this station, that ticket you’ve booked,
Shows life rushing by, and you never even looked.
Christy O’ Donnell
A Message From A Far
Hello! So it is You.
Yes You ! Standing there on the platform Looking back at me.
You are the one, for whom I have written this poem.
I am so glad you noticed me And paused for a little while to be with me.
Could this have been a missed moment if you had just past me by unnoticed?
I have spilled -out my thoughts to be carried across the chalk – white ocean like a message in a bottle so you could find Me.
Even though the distance between us is vast.
Still we connect.
And an ocean of chalk away.
Yes it is true! I wrote this poem for you
Sheila Fitzpatrick O’Donnell