Penny's Poetry

London
            A Journey Home
By: Penny White


Lists

Bathroom:
Tooth brush/paste
Brush
Hair ties
Makeup
Perfume

Clothing:
Shirts --12
Jeans -- 5
Shorts -- 2
Socks -- 10
SHOES -- 6
Panties -- 10
Bras -- 4
Dress
Skirts -- 3
Swimsuit
Sweater -- 5
Tanks -- 3
P.J. – 4
Jacket – 2

Electronics
Lap Top
Cords
Cell Phone (EMERGENCY USE!)
Camera
Batteries
IPod (must)

Other:

Purse
Backpack
Hat
Umbrella *
Pictures (Family and Friends)
Rain Boots
Sunglasses
Sketchbook *

Important:
Passport
Boarding Pass
Tickets
WSU I.D.
Wallet
License
CIGNA
$











Beginning 


      June 24^th, 2007
            Departure, Cleveland (Hopkins) Airport 12:45pm

     
      Nineteen
      I’m no good with goodbyes
      She waits with me for a while
      I drown my nerves in a bottle of Pepto
      My IPod blares all noise away

            Arrive, Chicago (O’Hare) Airport 1:12pm


      Alone in a maze
      The international flight doesn’t leave from the international terminal
      Ironic
      I wait alone
      Discreetly searching for others
      We wear the same shirt

            Departure, Chicago (O’Hare) Airport 6:22pm


      Security is a bitch
      Shoes off
      Belt and jewelry off
      Lap Top in its own box
      Redress


            Arrive, London (Heathrow) Airport 8:30am


      I’m no good with introductions
      Excited nerves
      Jet lagged with no sleep
      Strangers in a strange land, we wait
      Together



Home 


A city, day and night, I remember it
vividly. My last day was spent here at this
window, watching the sunset over trees
singed with the pink of the fading day.


The clock chimes 1, 2, 3…


In the morning I am leaving literally making
my way back to Cleveland. For now though,
I can sit listening to the collective hum of
students packing, laundry in the dryer, and
the tube rushing past.

Breath.

A young girl with many friends, she is happy
but something is missing. Looking into the
eyes of her loved ones, they are content,
while inside she feels a desperate need to get 
out.

To find home

“I got in!” she cried standing barefoot in the
snow. Her mother smiled knowing the time
had come.


“Make sure it doesn’t weigh more
then fifty pounds,” her father warned.

The car was packed and she didn’t need
much just her camera, journal and a mix
of clothing in preparation for any season.

Time to go. 
I’ll miss you.
Goodbye.





Longest flight of my life next to a guy who
dreamed he could dance like Michael Jackson.


No Sleep.

One by one we filed in greeted by unfamiliar 
faces.

Zea, Nina, Ingrid, Amanda my friends, my 
family.

Countless hours spent at tourist traps, open-
air markets, London Met, Tate Modern, and 
Tommy Flynns our local pub.

Jack the Ripper gave us the flip side of 
history while Spam-A-Lot reaffirmed 
Lancelot’s need to wear tight pants, a lot. 
 
I sunk my first lime in Piccadilly Circus 
and roamed the vibrant green grass of 
Regent’s Park everyday, book in hand.

I sat in my room watching the news as a city
held it’s breath in fear of another bombing.


I made it
We made it
Together.

A woman sitting in this window as the clock 
1,2,3… It’s time to go. I don’t want
to leave. You must they are waiting for you.

One last glance out the window, the trees 
once more tinted with the pink of the rising 
sun.


This is not the end I will be back.
My city
My home

End

      July 27^th, 2007

            Departure, London (Heathrow) Airport 6:00am


      Nineteen
      I’m no good with goodbyes
      Together we wait
      Four of us, then three
      My IPod blares all noise away

            Arrive, Chicago (O’Hare) Airport 4:15pm


      Passport Stamped
      Security is still a bitch
      Grab some food
      So little time

            Departure, Chicago (O’Hare) Airport 6:45pm


      We navigate the maze
      One by one we leave each other as puddle jumpers take us home
      I wait alone
      Remembering them as they go
      Phone numbers, addresses

            Arrive, Cleveland (Hopkins) Airport 9:06pm


      Excited nerves
      Jet lagged with no sleep
      Familiar faces and familiar places
      I have changed






Remember

We took the Piccadilly line all the way to Cockfosters, minded the gap and proceeded to 
stand on the wrong side of the yellow line.

Ever evening we were serenaded by Spaniards who loved it when we sang the “Umbrella 
Song.”

      ella…ella….eh…eh…eh


We encountered stars in Piccadilly Circus while munching on pizza during the London
premier of the latest Harry Potter film.

We gave up Fish and Chips for a different dish at Wagamama whose brownies can knock
over even the highest blockade with yummy goodness.
      A piece offering

We followed the leader through parks in search of Peter Pan and South Kensington for
the Queens Arms where a strawberry flavored beer known as Früli awaited our arrival. 
 

I was named tour guide as we traipsed all over town, running rampant through museums 
and galleries.
      My safe havens

We stopped in Pret every day around three for tea and a sandwich. People in London love 
their sandwiches.


On our way to Paris, we waited two hours for the EuroStar to arrive, a small price to pay for 
beautiful sights and smells.
      A mix of baking goods and Port-o-Lets

A visit with the green fairy left us walking a tight rope along the Seine.

We took the Moat Path to the “Moat Education Room” at Windsor and surfed in two
hemispheres in Greenwich.


At Number 5 Abbey Road, we crossed the street much to the delight of a black cab, twice.
      I was Paul

We were transported to Stonehenge and Bath on a tour bus whose guide had an unhealthy 
 obsession with Sting.

      Jane Austen my Idol

We spent our last night at Tommy Flynns, downing Strongbow, dancing to techno and 
trying our best not to cry.
      My family and me