Poetry Blog: Pier

This is a poem that, as we near the end of another British summer, just seems appropriate. It’s hopefully one that lots of people can relate to, especially us Brits.

I wrote this after we had headed to Llandudno for a short break in summer last year. We spent time walking along the promenade as well as up into the hills that can be found just a short distance from the sea. We’d spent time relaxing, eating cake and drinking coffee in lovely cafes and of course, we’d spent time in the amusements! This is where the poem came from because the amusements in Llandudno can be found on the pier.

Pier

Your eyes dart everywhere,
as you walk, you're bombarded from above 
by a terror that could leave a lasting scar
or worse still, a stain, a smell, 
a memory that could ruin coastal towns forevermore
and yet still, you can't quite concentrate on the airborne menace.

Rough boards trodden on for hundreds of years
promise pleasure while hinting at danger
with every glimpse of the waves far beneath.
Children wander aimlessly, 
all grabbing hands and voices that match the decibels of those gulls.  

Groups of adults attempt to keep them in check,
while flocks of teens loiter with barely disguised intent.
Ice creams and candy floss are wolfed down
for fear of attack from above and the hordes
of ever more bold screeching thieves.

Duck inside an arcade and the senses
are overwhelmed by the kaleidoscope colour
of copycat prizes combined with the sounds of machines
competing busily for attention,
while people push past, eager for a moment of mindless fun.

Copper coins, salvaged from a long cherished jar,
are thrust with military precision into a slot
in the hope of the displacement 
that will win tokens to be exchanged for tat,
yet still, it is an Olympic podium style thrill 
that's felt as those coins finally crash.

Hours later, as you blink again into the sun  
and set foot on more solid ground,
pockets are lighter, nerves shredded,
arms ache and knees creak as you trudge, 
wearily away, excitement over, another seaside day almost at an end.

On a previous trip to the one described above I’d actually been divebombed and flown into by a seagull. It sort of clonked me on the head! They’re a menace at most seaside towns these days. However, I’ve never had my food stolen by one or indeed suffered the indignity of being hit by their flying poo!

I’m not really a fan of the amusement arcades, despite being so when I was younger. However, my family love them and so every trip to a coastal town means spending hours in multiple arcades, never really feeling the tension and excitement that they do at the jeopardy of the machines.

Regardless, I was struck by just how much was actually going on when we made this trip and found myself making notes in some downtime, which later would become this poem. I hope you enjoyed it!