Donald J Bennett Poet Free verse

Caught Her On the Fly

Freight train is moving out; a big black Mally s’ pulling lead
The Mally’s fire s’ getting hot; she s’ belching smoke an’ blowing steam
Her big drivers ah’ drumming out a rolling rhythmic beat
Whistle blowing that lonesome wailing moan; a warning for all to heed

Caught her on the fly; grabbed a gon and rode it through the night
It’s a gondola on a sunny day; a side door Pullman in the rain
For a drifter on the bum; tis the life he s’ chosen to lead
The rhythm of the rails induces sleep; till the early morning light

Pack slung or’ his shoulder, got it all bundled up tight
Tis a cardboard mattress, newsprint blankets; just a few
tin can cup; bent lid spoon all tucked well inside
Hopped to a jungle; further on down the line, sun was shining bright

Smelt the aroma of a steaming jungle pot; tis purely a delight
Pulled up a bucket to set a spell; dips him a cup of that steaming jungle stew
savors the flavors;  up to his fill; jaws a bit, seeking events along the rails
Will catch another slow mover again; when the time seems just right


An explanation: This is from observation of these “hobo type individuals” as a result of my having worked in large rail centers where railroads merge many years ago. The “big black Mally” refers to a type of large steam locomotive. “The jungle” refers to an area where these individuals could rest a spell before moving on. A “jungle pot” refers to a small barrel that served a cooking vessel that always seemed to be steaming with a stew of whatever these folks could beg barrow or steal to contribute.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Carl Fraser December 6, 2013 at 12:55 AM I remember the old coal burners, black smoke trailin down the rails. Lots of good memories here Donald, blessings, Carl Donald J Bennett December 6, 2013 at 1:14 AM Yes those big machines were dirty but when running it was if they were a mechanical delight. I still love remembering the steam whistle blow.

Ndaba Sibanda December 1, 2013 at 12:54 AM I guess , one can still smelt the aroma of a steaming "jungle pot", after reading this wonderful poem. Donald J Bennett December 1, 2013 at 1:18 AM Thank you for the comment Ndaba. Ndaba Sibanda December 1, 2013 at 12:55 AM I guess , one can still smell the aroma of a steaming "jungle pot", after reading this wonderful poem.

Zamir Osorov November 30, 2013 at 8:31 AM In our country some sort of trains mowed out till the middle 60 years.And what about jungle, jungle pot and other details, it s seem left the some untill now. I am lived close to railroad station and great area of jungle, so this poem very impressed me.

Richard Lamoureux November 29, 2013 at 8:17 AM You are a gifted writer, I enjoyed this poem very much.

Scott Thirtyseven November 27, 2013 at 2:43 AM Another great poem. You've given an insight to another life, in such a humane way. Well done. Donald J Bennett November 27, 2013 at 10:33 AM Scott; I felt sad for these individuals but it was not until I heard Bobby Braddock's song "Wild Irish Rose' as sung by George jones that I really understood their plight.

Brian Cosgrove November 27, 2013 at 12:34 AM Hi Donald An excellent write You live the poem as I did and that indicates how well it is written Pleasure to read Brian Donald J Bennett November 27, 2013 at 12:40 AM Thank you sir. Sorry I messed up and got my comments on some of your very fine work with the wrong poem. I read several of your pieces and they are delightful.

Nette Onclaud November 26, 2013 at 1:15 AM very descriptive and packed with emotional images... we honor those who may be differebt from us but nonetheless same in spirit...a wonder of wonders, donald..huggs

Chuck Melugin November 26, 2013 at 12:37 AM Donald , this was very well written! Thanks for the trip back!

Gary Watkins November 25, 2013 at 1:02 AM This is a nice bit of nostalgia. I'm sure some of the younger set probably has never ridden (or even seen) a steam engine. Similarly, they may not appreciate those riders of the rails so prevalent during the depression. It's an important part of Americana and deserves to be preserved in verse. Thank you for that. - Gary Donald J Bennett November 25, 2013 at 10:22 AM Gary; this time period was post the Korean conflict when so many were on the rail as it was during the depression. Thanks for the comment.