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Faces In the Train
I have been used to living alone for so long I am determined and easy going but headstrong This morning was rather strange because I was on the train I woke up with people gallivanting around me in their misery A life that holds no destiny dark and bleak They stare and look for something to compare It was one of those strange mornings Strange feelings with an awful stench floating in the air I felt like getting up and dancing, I felt like singing But there was no music, no song just the croweded slow train rumbling along It felt like everything was exploding around me Chatter and rambunctious laughter floated the entire night The grumbling and mumbling never ceased And the sounds from plastic bags turned into rattle snakes Hiding under leaves in the bushes and walking like man The rhythmical cracks from pumpkin and sunflowers seed Spilled over in my ears and later ended up in a garbage heap under the chair The train crawls and the journey went on and on I didn’t mind the slow ride as long as I had peace and quiet by my side But it was not so I was disturbed from every side The disturbance when on the entire night And every time I tried to dozed a tiny voice in front of me Tuned into a symphony talking to her mom and daddy The little six years old was screeching like a night owl Each time I tried to find a comfortable place to put my head I could hear this busy bumble bee gasping for breath I open my eyes and said one word in her language And in seconds she was fast asleep calming the tension in the seat And at last everyone could get some sleep I must have had an hour sleep before daylight creeps under my feet Four and six people crammed in the seat on both side of the train The seating position made me feel drained I could not move my leg I had to cross it instead The day began to get brighter and faces got much clearer Faces showed up everywhere looking cold and desolate Miserable and conceited as if they had something to share Faces in the morning are frightening and guile Faces in the mornings are outright beguiling Faces in the mornings are unreservedly lying Swollen eyes and swollen feet Heavy sighs and contemptuous laughter Grouchy voices and heavy hearts Mouth shooting like darts out to a hundred meters Faces cringed tightly absorbing their secrecy Hostile faces, mischievous faces Horny faces, sad faces, evil faces and foolish face And the innocent face of the noisy girl Spread out fast asleep in her mother’s arms Morning comes alive and changed the doleful tone The chatter and laughter increased And the honey bee start running around again The train turned into a market sellers moving up and down in the aisles Shouting out the name of their products as they pass by Everyone start to do their own thing while others started to sing The old men traditional music got louder and louder Spoil children screaming and shouting above their voices And the couple sitting in front of me yawed with mouth wide open Looking at me as if they were ready to fight They ate the entire night they have a real big appetite An older woman and a young man They really had nothing in common The ignorant and angry man showed his disgust to her I just could not figure out that strange relationship A round and plump woman dressed in expensive clothes A skinny young man dressed in fashionable shoes What were they all about? All dressed in black brand name clothes With a burden that could not be disclosed She wore a wooden image of Buddha around her neck And the Buddhist beads stringed around her wrist Was he her lover, brother or sexual partner? These thoughts run through my head I just could not comprehend The Buddha was not a glutton But this unprincipled couple Sat in front of me for the entire journey Eating and grumbling and watching me Their faces were sad and disturbing Faces can be very deceiving Rejected face, Cunning faces Lying faces Loving faces Innocent faces Angry faces Guilty faces Faces tell a true story
Copyright © 2025 Christine Phillips. All Rights Reserved

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry