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Below are poems written by poet Monterey Sirak. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.

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My truck idles noisily
spitting and sputtering like a mad dog
being doused with a bucket of cold water
to slow an attack     where I sit 
behind a metal guard rail at the crossing

Or should I say your truck
You were the one who searched salvage yards
for lights     fenders     a working transmission
It was your baby     not mine
I just watched in tolerant amusement
as you painstakingly restored it
to its former fifties glory
I helped you christen this old truck
in that grove of pecan trees beside the tracks
The trains rumbled past     so close
I felt vibrations struggle through my body

I sit here watching boxcars pass
squeaking and squealing over the tracks
lurching from side to side as if debating
whether to break free from this metal convoy
and unable to choose the right moment
You chose the right moment     the one right for you
Or was it only the one wrong for me?

In later weeks you came to my bed every night in those
silly Christmas pajamas     and rolled the board of your body 
onto its side to stare at the wall
presenting a stiff back I was afraid to touch
We drank coffee in the mornings     only the whisper 
of sugar granules falling into liquid    breaking the silence
I never saw you leave

They said after seven years you could be declared dead
Are you?
Do I count the years before you left?  
I looked for you in the pecan grove the morning
I found your truck in the driveway with no sign of you 
No tracks left behind     No trail left for me to follow
I watch trains     count flat cars and boxcars
wonder what they carry     and what they left behind
The train will always be found by following 
the iron rails running through its immediate past
Unlike you

A boxcar passes    bouncing past the windshield
I see a face peering from the opened doorway
Only a face     Clothes and body have merged
into shadows of a dark interior
It is the face of a hobo with tired yet excited eyes
It is your face
You once watched trains with me and told stories 
about the life of freedom hobos found riding the rails

Did you become a hobo?
Are you free now?
Don't you want your truck?


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  1. Date: 2/25/2015 8:50:00 AM

    Good morning dear friend xxx
  1. Date: 2/23/2015 8:49:00 AM

    this a deep journey held me every word excellent pen very beautifully drawn piece bless you
  1. Date: 2/22/2015 11:04:00 PM

    This had my attention start to finish. The life of freedom... What is left behind? Whom is left behind to wonder? Loved it.
  1. Date: 2/22/2015 7:10:00 AM

    Good morning dear poet, had another read of your lovely poem, going to go to church this morning, get a little spiritual food, well tell you about it later on soup, xxx
  1. Date: 2/22/2015 7:05:00 AM

    Back to read this poem and it to my fav list... This is free verse that has substance and inspires as it is read! Be it truth or fiction it is still fantastic writing!
  1. Date: 2/21/2015 8:19:00 PM

    It is a sad tale you tell here. Is it a true story. You present it so well it seems like one even if it is fiction. Peace & Love Matthew Anish
  1. Date: 2/20/2015 9:07:00 AM

    Wow, this is quite a story. I love poems that tell a story. Sad ending, but let's hope he left the truck with you with the thought that it would bring him back someday.
  1. Date: 2/19/2015 9:27:00 PM

    Monterey, thanks. I was so pleased that you liked my kimo so much.
  1. Date: 2/19/2015 12:24:00 PM

    Came back to have a re-read of your awesome poem, much love xxx
  1. Date: 2/19/2015 10:08:00 AM

    This poetic trip though the heart is, thought provoking, descriptive, and creative all rolled up into a beautiful poem. This poem flows off the tongue like syrup leaving a bitter-sweet after taste....delicious! Emile. #7
  1. Date: 2/17/2015 10:46:00 AM

    Hi mont I commend you for a job well done, you are good at what you do, keep it coming. kels
  1. Date: 2/16/2015 3:50:00 PM

    Surely there is truth in this great story you have presented. Sometimes those we once loved leave behind things stronger than the scars, bad/great memories and unfulfilled dreams! You captured it ALL!! A SUPER 7 PON THIS GEM ...
  1. Date: 2/16/2015 9:07:00 AM

    Good morning Monterey.
  1. Date: 2/14/2015 10:53:00 AM

    thanks for visiting me again. A very happy Valentine's Day to you, MOnterey.
  1. Date: 2/14/2015 7:49:00 AM

  1. Date: 2/11/2015 10:30:00 PM

    Outstanding narrative . . . I was the man on the train . . . isolated and cocooned in the darkness of the rail car . . . free, no enslaved, and now I see the truck and you . . . how did I get here. My take on your wonderful story . . . I played every part of your story -- I was mostly the man . . . how we can shut ourselves off from the very things, the very people we love most. 7 and fav from me.
  1. Date: 2/11/2015 9:08:00 PM

    I stopped to read this story again, I enjoyed it so much the first time! Hugs, Rhonda
  1. Date: 2/11/2015 5:19:00 PM

    pensive yet light vignettes of life well woven to capture the theme's mood..uch enjoyed!.. huggs
  1. Date: 2/11/2015 3:57:00 PM

    Yes, Monterey, you drew on your life stories such as the poor lad on the train to get the flair to write this kind of story so well!
  1. Date: 2/11/2015 1:07:00 PM

    There is lots of mystery here - the idea of freedom even at the expense of becoming a hobo is interesting. Good stuff. Love, daver
  1. Date: 2/10/2015 3:30:00 PM

    I second Vie's comment...You transport me into another world too and I like that world. This poem is part sad, part funny and the last line is HIARIOUS. By the way, if HE don't want his truck, I'll take it...
  1. Date: 2/10/2015 1:33:00 PM

    When I read your poems Monti, it's like you transport me into another world, your world in techno color when it comes to characters come to life, you are the best at it, you say much but you still leave us mystified, you have mastered the art, to perfection, love to you xxx
  1. Date: 2/10/2015 1:16:00 PM

    Like a little child listening to a story you had me spellbound, right to the end. Sounds so realistic...perhaps it is! That truck plays an important part in this excellent narrative; it is the only remaining link! #7 All the best. // paul
  1. Date: 2/10/2015 11:43:00 AM

    Oh such wizardry, your words your stories are a joy...
  1. Date: 2/10/2015 8:46:00 AM

    Wow wow wow, I so love the way you write! You have a beautiful mind!7!
  1. Date: 2/9/2015 7:08:00 PM

    MOnterey. I can't recall all the details of your life story, but I am sure this was someone in your life story, right? I mean, I don't think this is fiction. You have so much life experience to pull from, whether true or fiction, whatever you write will resonate with truth and poignancy!
  1. Date: 2/9/2015 2:39:00 PM

    Enjoyed reading your story in poetic form..I hope just a fine tale not a fact of life..I am glad that I chose this one to read today..If for a contest, reads like a winner to me..Thanks for the visits..Sara
  1. Date: 2/9/2015 2:37:00 PM

    - Free finally ..... enjoy reading this dear Monterey - Not so often you post new poems ..... but a joy when they come - thank you for being a loyal reader of my small "kitchen table poems "- hugs // Anne-Lise :)
  1. Date: 2/8/2015 3:40:00 AM

    Monterey, you strike again, what a compelling write, woah, I love it! Truth or fiction, this had me so anxious to know how it ended for her! "only the whisper of sugar granules falling... i never saw you leave" what a master story-teller you are, dear lady, I adore your work!
  1. Date: 2/7/2015 3:40:00 PM

    You wrote this like a master storyteller. The kind of story that one doesn't want to end. A 7!
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