I am not a number!

I wrote the following poem after recalling a trip to Portmerion – a magical little village in North Wales where they filmed the cult 60’s series The Prisoner, starring Patrick McGoohan.

I’d rather be a prisoner, than be free in my life now
Jump off this daily treadmill and quit this rat race hell
I waste so many hours pinioned in my car
Tamping down frustration. Not getting very far.
At my destination I swap driver’s seat for desk
This sedentary existence, a never ending test
Of boredom, disappointment, blank faces, déjà vu
A daily re-enactment, that somehow I get through.

Through a million different lenses they watch my life unfold
Know everything about me, even stories I’ve not told
When finally, I do get home to sit and watch tv
The news channel says we’re all doomed, while I choke on my tea
Unable to relax or think, I like awake at night
I know there is a better life just hidden in plain sight

I’d rather be a prisoner
In the village, by the sea
With a penny farthing emblem – that’s where I want to be.

prisoner villageWhere jaunty capes are de-rigueur and parasols abound
Where names are swapped for numbers and maps cannot be found
No traffic jams to vex me, little golf carts take the strain
Hidden tannoys make pronouncements on the likelihood of rain
And everyone is friendly. Be seeing you they say
They tip their hats and stop to chat, exhorting me to stay

But what if I got itchy feet, unlikely as that seems
Would number 2 know what to do to foil my escape schemes?
I could fight my way through undergrowth past statues that revolve,
Run from huge inflatables. They’d catch me and convolve.
After all this exercise I’d reappear anew, all glowing skin and rosy cheeked
I know what I must do.
If number 6 wants out, I definitely want in.
I’d rather be a prisoner still
Than risk becoming mentally ill!

I’d rather be a prisoner
In the village, by the sea.


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