Best Eastbound Poems
The whistles screamed that cold dark night
Winter, 1903
At least fourteen would perish
Way out on the prairie
The westbound Sunset Limited,
Eastbound Crescent City Express,
Met head on in a collision
Lives lost in great distress
Horror met the rescuers
Two twisted trains in flames
Of fourteen known to've perished
Of two, were not found names
A hundred plus years later,
On the date and pre-dawn hour
We'd come to the memorial plaque
With Teddy bears and flowers
Holding our thoughts in silence
We walked along the trail
Remembering the violence;
Their deaths upon that rail
Precisely 2:50 A.M
What was it? We don't know
But in our silent vigil
We heard a whistle blow
Sounding clear across the night
Once long, Three short, Last long
But there was nothing in our sight
Praying - we moved along
Our memorial under silver stars
For those perished on the track
Ended as we got in cars
With one last look-
a century back
We'll never solve the mystery
But do we need to know?
Commemorating history
We heard a whistle blow
The thing I do to be nearer to him,
Commuting even in weather so grim.
The things I do to have more acceptance,
Cleaning his home for a much better chance.
The bus I go northbound in drives down memory lane,
As I reminisce about what he and I once were, in silent pain.
The bus I go eastbound with shows me where he's recently been,
As I daydream of a future wish I deeply hold within.
The commute may not always feel worth it,
But I want to show him I love him every bit.
The way home always fills me with sorrow,
But I always know there is another tomorrow.
The things I do for him, despite coming and going,
It is because it is him whom I will never stop loving.
The things I go through for him doesn't make him obligated,
But the least I hope for is my love is one day reciprocated.
Her voice dropped to a saucy tone
She spoke behind her fan.
She said, "Now, Red, don't get me wrong-
You are a handsome man.
"You're a drifter as we both know,
A cowboy through and through.
I need a man who's always there
We both know that ain't you.
"You've got to be where cattle go,
The world's an open range -
I wish there was another way
I know you'll never change.
"You'll be in some saloon somewhere,
In some new cattle town,
An' I'll be here just raisin' kids,
Tryin' to hold 'em down.
"So just be sweet an' let me go,
An' I'll walk out of here.
I'll find someone and so will you
An' we'll be friends, my dear."
She turned and left that dim saloon
Went through the swingin' door
She took an Eastbound train that day
Was never seen no more
Now Red turned to the bartender
An' scratched beneath his hat
"Texas is hard on womenfolk -
Just who the hell was that?"
April, 2016
I frowned when I found my new pup was gone,
so, I searched all around for my little foxhound,
listening with profound intensity until dawn.
I was gowned but changed; headed to the pound,
in the eastbound lane that would take me there.
I yelled to expound, '"There's no time to spare!"
Traffic moved slowly, so I found a way round it,
now westbound, my nerves were coiled and wound.
I stopped at a campground and called his name, "Jit!"
I heard no barks or mewling. Not a single sound.
Pup, where are you? Hiding behind a hill or mound?
Did you dig holes in the ground, earthy and browned?
Pup, if you're lost, in salty tears I would be drowned.
Fears abound that I would never see his face again.
My spirits low, not much further can they be downed.
I heard, "Woof!" and my heart beat in quick refrain...
Quickly, Jit ran to me, faster than a racing greyhound!
All this time he'd been asleep in my car's backseat.
My pup continues to astound me with kisses so sweet.
He follows me everywhere, hoping for a doggie treat!
~ April 26, 2022 ~
Nursery Rhyme 3 Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
"Now,Red, no doubt you are a handsome man."
Said in a throaty voice behind her fan.
"We both know you're a cowboy through and through.
I need a man at home and that ain't you."
"You'll be in some new, faroff cattle town -
I'll be here with the kids holdin' 'em down."
She kissed him lightly and strolled out the door.
Took an eastbound train and was seen no more.
Red drank his beer and scratched beneath his hat.
He said, "Bartender, who the hell was that?"
3/21/2017
A man, quite renowned, came into our town;
He tried to expound on matters profound.
He frowned when he found as he tried to expound:
drowned by the sound of a hound in the town.
This was indeed a hound most renowned!
The sound from this hound, when on a rebound,
knocks a man down in a mound on the ground.
He looked all 'round: northbound, southbound, eastbound, westbound.
Nowhere he looked could that loud sound be found:
the fairground, the playground, the foreground, the background.
Finally he found himself down at the pound.
A foxhound, a coonhound, a bloodhound, a greyhound:
all of these hounds could be found at the pound,
but none of the hounds made that kind of sound.
A boy came around and said while he frowned,
his puppy was wound up, would not settle down.
"Your little dog too! Ha, ha," he clowned.
A little chihuahua made all of that sound?
Well, he dropped his jaw when he heard the chihuahua.
Now, he expounds on this hound most renowned.
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For the Nursery Rhyme 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
Written on 04/14/2022
I-95
“Ya got the horse race
Ya got the dog race
Ya got the human race —
But this is a ratrace”
~ Bob Marley and the Wailers, “Ratrace” from the album Rastaman Vibration (1976)
Across Boynton Beach ran a popular road known as Gateway Boulevard.
Commuting to work on it each weekday morning the traffic moved like lard
Cruising past Motorola, eastbound vehicles mostly went single-file
In the right lane starting at Congress Avenue, dragging through all the half-mile
Along Quantum Boulevard and High Ridge Road, where long stoplights delayed the dull drive
Until the right turn to the onramp that dropped to the highway called I-95.
We’re getting on I-95, in line, we’re getting on I-95
The road never ends but as long as we’re friends we’re all getting on I-95.
Florida drivers were cool and unhurried; some surely could be terribly slow.
Old codgers wearing old hats had no clue they impeded the old traffic flow.
I’d blow past all of them, taking the left lane; I most every day made the pole
Up at the High Ridge Road light. Once it turned, I’d just kick it in and quickly roll
Forward, ahead of the slouch to my right, so that at the onramp I’d arrive
Long past the long line of travelers waiting to turn onto I-95.
We’re getting on I-95, my friends, we’re getting on I-95
It makes us feel proud to be part of the crowd all for getting on I-95.
In the South Bay there’s no waste of a chance to exploit the available lanes.
Drivers move quickly to block one another from realizing possible gains
That may have been realized, had lane-changing tactics let somebody else take the lead,
Yet for all that I have nothing to say of this crowd in its ruthless stampede
Than that it’s just like that past Florida crowd in the sense that it’s no more alive
In any real way, whether faster or meaner, than those back on I-95.
You’re getting on I-95, old crew, you’re getting on I-95
All throughout life, in each gladness and strife, you’re just getting on I-95.
~ Thanks Always Returns
I've opened up my Venetion blinds with a heart that throbs
to get a better view of the February scenery;
snow is falling the day before my birthday...
it's heavy, it's lovely and it quickly sticks on the berry shrubs!
The eastbound wind spreads it on the barren lawns
and as trees sway back and forth, it howls;
come down from the invisible, thick clouds
beautiful snowflakes, adorn these dreams
whether tomorrow will bring smiles or frowns...
whatever the outcome, fate arrays what he deems!
The parakeet tries to escape between the narrow rods
of the cage, he's unaware of the danger, it's not spring;
his behavior seem imprudent, he also likes to see
and feel everything I feel on this quite snowy morning!
Kids are in school, streets are frequented by thugs
who throw snowballs at each other and explode in glee!
Another year, as the last, will start on the sixth of this February,
woe to this Water Bearer who can only hope, not dream!
Dreams are only for the young hearts starting their journey,
someone like me who has dreamt them all, has no need for them;
fall snowflakes, although the dreaded robins have now fled...
there is no happier heart than mine dismissing all that is sad!
Sleeping in the corner of a boxcar bound for Boulder
Got a life I like to leave behind a love I'd like to keep.
With the River passing slowly through the desert night below me
The thunder rips across the sky and wakes me from my sleep.
Now I spent the later sixties in the Colorado Rockies,
But California called when I was running out of bread .
As Caroline tried not to cry, we slowly kissed our love goodbye
And 10 years came between us is our separate lives we led.
Now a man in search of girls and dreams can bend his mind and make it seem
Like all good things are waiting in the next town round the bend.
But all I got from the traveling life was a beat-up Ford and a nagging wife,
And nothing in my future here but things that might have been.
Another pour of Cutty Sark at a Chinese bar in Buena Park ,
I thought back on my life ‘till there was nothing more to say.
So I didn’t find it too hard to walk out to that train yard
And in the dusk I jumped aboard an eastbound Santa Fe.
Now staring blankly at the wall a life of hatred I recall
Our quiet nights were seldom as are fighting words increased.
But I've left it all eight hours ago to start life I used to know,
With the night chill on my blanket, ‘cross the River headed East.
Pardon me but I've made one mistake.
Can't you see I'm doing all I can.
Let me be and I’ll find love a gain
Because I'm going to see my Mountain Girl again.
Author's note: Intended as a song, the last four lines are meant to be a chorus interspersed after every other stanza. Dedicated to Ian Tyson.
‘You are the tea leaves I am the tea pot I the tiny snowflake and you the snow’ - Ode to Mum by Maria Williams
I dare you approach me with the notion that 'it's all about you'.
Have you no understanding that there's 'no you without Me'?
Were we not taught early on that there is no 'me without you'?
You are a most unfortunate human being and indeed most selfish.
It is such notion as yours that has the world in a dooms day spin.
Wars worldwide and localized have been fought and presently fighting
because of self and greed with little consideration that we need unity.
I shall remind you of the great and the mighty Mississippi River.
It is only thus because of the many tributaries that flow into it.
It is fed by the great westward flowing Ohio River and graciously
accepts norishment from the eastbound Missiouri River. If such unity were not so, it's flow would be weak and most feable.
Why, the rich fertile delta soil along it's river bank would not be near as coveted. Why, imagine what it's long and whinding river flow to
the Mexico Gulf would be. Let none of us think 'we're all that and a bag of chips' because We Desparately Need One Another.
022820PoSpCtest, Poetic lines from a Poetic Soup Poet, Silent One
Line chosen from, Ode To Mum by Maria Williams. 2P
We flew out from Kirmington, Germany bound
To bomb Frankfurt, and the area around
One of a thousand planes that took to the air
Mine was a Wellington, assembled with care
I was a Flight Sergeant on the old R/T
Also an air gunner, yes that was me
We should have had six on board that night
Only five of us left to join that flight
The long journey out was cold but routine
Each of us checking his part of the machine
But once over the target, the flak was so bad
It instilled fear into this Italian lad
We dropped our bombs and turned for home
Split from the pack we are on our own
It’s nearly dawn as we cross over France
The enemy’s about, please give us a chance
Nearer and nearer we get to the French coast
To survive this run, we would boast
But an Eastbound 109 turned his guns our way
Fate was sealed; this was not our day
Badly we are hit, and losing height fast
Doubts arose if we would last
But faith in our skills kept that last hope alive
If only we knew we wouldn’t survive
We crashed in the sea just off the Le Harvre coast
It was that final dive I hated the most
Screaming and crying, our souls plead their case
All killed in action, and lost without trace
Lightning, lightning flash so bright lighting e'ery corner of night
Thunder, thunder from the sky rock me from my beddie bye
Rain drop, rain drop falling down saturate the thirsty ground
Windy wind whipping around tossing things west now eastbound
Tree branch, tree branch waving free knock out electricity
Darkness, darkness fills the house causing me to gripe and grouse
Flicker, flicker candlelight the time I wish you'd expedite
Onward, onward toward the hour when there once again be power
Kitty, kitty in the corner why so sad why play the mourner?
Soon oh soon this storm will pass ending your desperate morass
Lightning, thunder, rain and wind I wish your bane I could rescind
"one day you must leave us,"
he was cautioned as a boy-
"to become a student in the city
perchance you should return here
a rich man or a priest"
as autumn waltzed with winter
the fields rose tall again
that child, all but a man now
frowned upon things outgrown
and saddled father's mare
the eastbound rail line led him down
lurching thousand lonely miles
into the jaws of metropolis
where heaven diminished
in a hazy, orange halo
wary souls called to him dimly
from cold brick roads and alleyways
through the double-doors of old town tavern
drawn in by distant strumming tunes-
the buzz and hum of low country blues
We were bused from Sacramento to Reno.
We rode a train from Reno to Salt Lake City.
We then bused from SLC to Kansas City.
Somewhere along the I-80 route,
we crossed the Great Divide.
At the time, the Kansas City Chiefs was not
on my list of favorite things to do or places
to go before my demise, but they soon
became a member of my bucket list.
The memory of the trip itself and
all the joy it brought my friend
and I was not the real treasure.
The real treasure hidden in a field;
the real pearl of great pride was
the six days and six nights spent
with a friend. Sure, we both
greatly enjoyed the entire
theme of 'Football', but the
real deal was the chats and
the conversations of the
heart about life and family;
about childhood and Christ.
It was the brief time spent in
a conversation with two other
guys as we passed through
Winnemucca, Nev. on
the Eastbound train.
We stayed two nights in KC.
In KC we went to a KC Chiefs game.
We also met the KC cheerleaders.
We rented a car and headed
for home on Monday afternoon.
The long drive back from KC to
Sac was great and not a chore.
The KCC has been my friend's
favorite team since childhood,
and I can imagine how it made
him feel to see a live home game.
By the way, the home team lost to
a non-contending team. However,
my friend's team won the Super Bowl
that same year.
092924PS
I'm the woman behind the man behind the wheel
Let's Giddy -Up-Go My phantom 309
Give me forty acres Eighteen wheels And a dozen roses
For this is a trucker's last ride Eastbound Westbound
Let's start us a Convoy I know there's a love story
in the making under the bright Kansas City lights
Roll on Big Mama This is your Teddy Bear from
the old home filler up and keep Cafe
Just put the hammer down and
let's see how fast them a trucks can a go
For Mama knows the highway And the girl
on the billboard too Rolling past on a trucking cafe
With my big wheels in the moonlight Rolling me
away from you For I'm a truck driving Mama
Looking for someone else I once knew
{ Over and I'm Goneeee } LOL
Tribute To
Our Truckers
Of The Roads
Also a song
again working on lol