The motorway architecture,
cinematically constructed
to roll and repeat
on a rain-sheened
celluloid loop
-sprockets of way-signs
-endlessness whirring.
The unblinking stare of
star struck cats-eyes
roll, repeat.
Advance to the dark.
More mindless concentration,
other drivers little worlds
rush by and recede.
Reckless proximity at speed.
Sauce spilt from a ripped tin,
a mangled lorry
dipped in blood passes and stays.
Mopped by morning, though.
Thoughts return, rolling, repeating
Signs wave like dead friends,
30 miles, 29
reminding and rolling,
and with the light of morning
there is a remembered end
to the enforced merging of the repetitive new.
Where tiredness and endurance
bring the apotheosis of
Home,
with its freedom of old familiarities.
Big Ape Diary 
i rather like driving at night…usually do on long trips…and i have watched that countdown on the signs…nice allusion to them being dead friends….and home once you get there is like one long sigh…
I like being driven… Always the passenger!
nice..brings back some memories..i’m not a friend of driving through the night..but sometimes there’s no other choice..
As long as it stays a once-in-a-blue-moon experience it’s fine!
The sound of the words works so well here. Great poem!
Thanks for the read and the comment 🙂
I’m a sucker for urban environments at night.
So yeah, think this is awesome. Love the images.
It’s the experience of the unfamiliar amongst the familiar that kicked this off 🙂
Thinking of those endless catseyes spooling out in front of me….
Cats eyes, signposts, ticking by…
Great imagery and I agree with Matt – the sound of the words adds an extra dimension
I must admit as a so-called poet I rarely think of the sound of the words and react more to the way they look! 🙂
Enjoyed your imagerY:
“roll and repeat
on a rain-sheened
celluloid loop”
And:
“other drivers’ little worlds.”
There is a wet scent and hiss to a night drive, too, I think. Would like to have been engaged in all my senses. Yet your poem as it stands is very evocative of a thing we may not all even suspect we somehow share…
Sleepiness? 🙂
dangerously soporific.
where are my caffeine tablets.
Right next to the Red Bull bought at the motorway services!
“-sprockets of way-signs
-endlessness whirring.” — great use of words. I also really like “Where tiredness and endurance
bring the apotheosis of
Home,
with its freedom of old familiarities.” Such a great ‘feeling’ to end the poetry.
Thanks for the comment, glad you liked, do stop buy again!
There is a certain comfort in night riding…but then coming home to familiarity really wins the day…or the night. I like much “signs that wave like dead friends” Liked this work, Brian!
Would it be a huge giveaway to say I don’t drive and only view this from the passengers seat!
memories so well woven
Written mostly as it was happening on the overnight bus from Glasgow to London , me ipadding thoughts down as they came to my wee pea-brain!
You convey the movement of it very well.
Was actually written (mostly) on an overnight bus from London to Glasgow on the iPad , and tidied up later at home.