Best Trams Poems
this non conformist city
breathes a calm but edgy air
through gaps in the graffiti
and the street art everywhere
its face is sometimes brutal
but its heart and soul seem not
and it walks a sexy diverse walk
that’s cold yet somehow hot
(but I know I’m getting older
when those fun thoughts in my head
reject the swinging KitKatClub
for KitKat bars instead)
and all those wearing AirPods
sipping hot drinks on the go
pass tourists taking boat trips
slowly going with the flow
while the 'high tea' of a bratwurst
served from food trucks on the street
is eaten at tall tables
en plein air without a seat
and just like high end stores at home
the windows dress up nice
displaying bling that's priceless
- as it’s shown without its price
note too that no one jaywalks here
by crossing roads at will
not even during rush hour
when the traffic’s standing still
and when it comes to bridges
here’s a fact that crossed my mind:
there are more here than in Venice
and in Amsterdam combined
and by saving time by taking trams
that move berlin about
we spent time taking time in parks
where locals take time out
while the aiming and the shooting
by the wall towards the west
was just us aiming cell phones
shooting selfies with the rest.
but the death camp films and clothes we saw
of the many that were killed
brought tears that drowned a silence there
for the blood that humans spilled
and I cannot start to comprehend
the minds of those who kill
and just because I went there
- and just because I stood there
- and just because I wrote this
doesn’t mean I ever will.
Categories:
trams, city, history, holocaust, travel,
Form:
Rhyme
"I read the news today, oh boy" - Beatles
apocalyptic revelations spinning 'round inside my head/have me tossing keep me turning wide awake upon my bed/so much hating too much lying chaos just outside my door/brainwashed zombies from their pulpits spewing vitriol and more/horsemen riding children dying famine warfare take their toll/politicians see their ratings drop in value with each poll/earth is battered lives are shattered bombs and land mines maim or kill/ Satan laughing spreads his wings as mankind wallows in his swill/locusts gather then they scatter out to spread the word of doom/news crawls flash across the telly in the safety of my room/insurrection tribulation agitating anxious minds/weary travelers seeking refuge thus fulfill prophetic signs/lift your heads up never give up soon will come the final fight/Armageddon's day of judgment soon will set all matters right
"Run to the hills, run for your lives" - Iron Maiden
broken trams cause traffic jams that clog the streets and alleyways/people running seeking shelter for it's now the end of days/can you hide us will you save us from the wrath of Christ the king/every day yes everywhere we hear his judgment message ring/ law defying God offending wicked men now merit death/liars rapists pedophiles blaspheme with their dying breath/peace they cry out strife they mete out hypocrites will face their end/frogs keep croaking propaganda via media it wends/retribution’s in all creatures causing some to turn on man/seven-headed beastlike monster marches to the Devil’s plan/Babylon with all her daughters sing a song of treachery/to their gods they give allegiance - spiritistic witchery/when the end comes have we earned some merit with the One who reigns/future blessings in the offing paradise will end all pain
“Amen. Come Lord Jesus” – Bible
Categories:
trams, confusion, corruption, fear,
Form:
Rhyme
day in the life of a coal miner
in the darkness you hear them
their boots clumping along the cobbled stones
not dawn yet ...yet still they are on their way to work
young lads of 15 plus.
these are miners sons
following the traditions
each generation go down the pit
twelve long hours
twelve hours in the dark and dust
twelve hours shovelling the coal
hewn by their elders.
horses are used to pull the trams along
eight hours they work....
young lads work longer.
their little food tins....tiny tins..
a chunk of bread if lucky a dripping sandwich
a bottle of water completed the feast.
they stumble on that cobbled road to home
tired and weary, hopefully a hot bath awaits them
in front of the fire.
nearly too tired to eat the meagre food set out
falling asleep dreaming of sunshine and fun
reality such a different story.
penned 18 May 2016
Audio Below
Categories:
trams, life,
Form:
Verse
I feel so proud when I see our national flag raised
and sing our Anthem ‘Oh land of our birth’
This island is not the place where I was born
but there’s no place on earth I’d rather be
with mountains and hills, a patchwork of fields
and the ocean which caresses our shores
I love eating Manx kippers, see cats with no tails
view the famous TT races, and ride horse trams on rails
We do not bow down to ’the Adjacent Isle’
that’s how England is known to the Manx
Our Tynwald parliament's made laws for over 600 years
Elizabeth’s our Sovereign and long may she reign
I’m not Manx but the Island’s my forever home
and my final resting place overlooks the blue sea
Whitman-Inspired Uplifting Poetry, old or new Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire
1/6/20
Categories:
trams, home, how i feel,
Form:
Ode
A black child knows the song of heavy trains,
as clanging engines brought my father home.
His weary, sweaty, fat thighs bearing strain,
from cooking pots of food for those well-known.
We felt the forceful song of heavy trains,
not rails or trams that ride below the street.
A move that in your gut of gut does reign,
black power that comes up beneath your feet.
Our past has known the song of steel on steel
as trains have carried tired heads held high.
When we approached we heard the air brakes squeal,
and at that sound we thought our hopes were nigh.
We've listened for the song of trains for years.
Their mournful horns just croon a memory,
and often resurrect the blues of tears,
or flash across the mind as reverie.
For many years we've sang the sad refrain,
with strength and power striving in the soul.
This melody of freedom laced with pain.
The weight of all life's longings taking toll.
Oh, sing a song of praise for those who bare
the weight of heavy trains within our past,
a rocking to and 'fro' from here to there,
maintaining in our spirits WILL to last.
Categories:
trams, black african american, endurance,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
ELECTRICITY
Edison has spoiled us past the point of no return
Lights around the world all cause the city life to burn
Every child becomes addicted to computer fun
Computers make them stick to chairs so they forget to run
Trams all are electric now and shuttle to and fro
Radios and music in a headphone as we go
Cannot stand the silence that enhances every night
If we see the darkness we are all caught up in fright
Tonight just try to go without your plug ins for an hour
You'll be among the few to know the the true electric power.
1/27/13 Victoria Anderson-Throop ©
Categories:
trams, life,
Form:
Acrostic
Palindrome Quirks
Gateman, has thou seen my nametag
Tips he replied or else upon thy boot I shall spit
Evil doer! Can I not but endure this shame to live
Was it thy dog upon yonder grass I saw?
Rats! Rover has been seen by the clear night’s star
God! Why did I ever get a dog?
Swap thy canine for a bird with no paws
Reviled unto myself I must now deliver
Repaid in full by this dirty diaper
Lived, thou has not until thou hast smelled the devil
Pots with gangly growth have but stop
Spot has urinated upon its tops
Smart would it be for it to leave upon the trams
Warts his master has from the pissed on straw
Adaven, now a ghost town located in Nevada
Stressed were the miners when Millie severed no desserts
By Mark A. Goodson
Semordnilap Palindrome’s:
Gateman/nametag
Tips/spit
Evil/live
Was/saw
Rats/star
God/dog
Swap/paws
Reviled/deliver
Repaid/diaper
Lived/devil
Pots/stop
Smart/trams
Warts/straw
Adaven/Nevada
Stressed/ desserts
Categories:
trams, funny, philosophy, uplifting,
Form:
Free verse
There’s gas in them there seams
So the scientists seem to think
All they have to do to get it is
Dig the holes, then sink
Sink down hydraulic drills
Force under high pressure, mixture in the cracks
All the gas then seeps upwards
And that’s what they call the fracks
Fracking is new big business
They say fracking is here to stay
Blackpool had its tower
But has the tower had its day?
When they pressure shoot the mixture
And the ground does bang and shake
As the fracks travel through the ground
Does it cause a new earthquake?
Never mind the ghost ride
Or the mouse trap racing round
With a little bit of fracking
Will it all fall down?
No more Blackpool illuminations
No more trams or central pier
When the scientists start their fracking
Will the frackers shed a tear?
They say there are no earth tremors
It does not cause new cracks
In other words poor Blackpool
The scientists don’t give a frack…
Do the politicians listen?
Do they bother what people feel or think?
You only know where moneys involved
They will let the frackers sink
With a little fracking here
and a little fracking there
The gas it rises to the top,
do they catch it in the air?
As long as they are comfortable
and they themselves suffer no lack
One thing about the politicians is,
they never give a frack…
© GG 13/08/2013
Fracking is forcing under high pressure a mixture or water sand and chemicals into the ground fracturing rock to release its gas, everywhere they try it is seems to cause earth tremors, they say there is no definitive proof but do they care when money is involved.
Blackpool suffered two quakes causing them to stop the fracking for a while but they want to start again.o my question is once more 'Who gives a frack?
Categories:
trams, conflict,
Form:
Rhyme
The Boardwalk
Whistles, jeers
Unrelenting young men
Ladies in swimsuits sigh while passing by
Screams from the Wild Mouse
Creaking ominously against summer skies
What happens if it fails to make that turn?
Spinning wheels, colorful trophies
“Step right up and try your luck!”
“Come on, Dad, it’s just a buck.”
Children’s laughter
Fun House draws a youthful audience
Mom and Dad slurp snow cones outside
Buzzing overhead
Plane with trailer invites diners:
“Sample succulent fare at Oyster Pad”
Honking trams
Make room for commuters
Who heckle pedestrians
Pounding surf
Lovers entwine beneath the wooden planks
Whispering promises of eternal affection
Cooing pigeons
Stalk the waffle stand
Wings flutter when bounty’s found
Yawning toddlers
Mothers cradle in their arms
Dads wearily tote huge, stuffed bears
* for the Sounds of Summer challenge
Categories:
trams, happiness, places, seasonssummer, summer,
Form:
Free verse
Memories Of The Sydney Tram
This fabulous road transport vehicle had it's humble beginnings
in the 1880s, were horses pulled the double-decker trams along
the various streets of Sydney, they moved pretty slow and the
people wanted to move at a much faster pace.
Soon to follow was the steam tram, although a faster alternative
it would cause all sorts of problems, especially the black soot
which came from the smokestack, this would never do.
It was approaching the turn of the century, in the 1900's
along came the cable tram, were the cable ran through a slot in the
middle of the lines giving the tram it's available traction, although
a lot faster than the horse and more than a match to a steam tram
in clean street running, it was not until the first of the electric trams
came into service, that people were satisfied.
Trams had a marvellous ability to move large numbers of people
from the racetracks and the showgrounds where they had the Royal
Easter Show, they were environmentally friendly and the people
loved them, all except the Government and the Oil Companies of the
time, they envisioned the future of transportation to be made up of
fossil fuel burning cars and buses, yes it would seem there was no
room on the streets for the people's friend, the humble tramcar.
Trams came and went until the 1950's, when plans were made to scrap
Sydney's greatest asset, the trams, when 1960 approached there was
hardly anything left of our great tramway system, and in 1961,
Sydney's last two trams made their final run into history, it would appear
the Government and Oil Companies had won the battle or so it seemed
until the late 1990's when a move to bring trams back was achieved and
they now run from Central station like their early predecessors,
running around Darling Harbor almost like a parody of what they once
were, still who knows what role the tram may have for Sydney's future.
Categories:
trams, history,
Form:
Narrative
If you seek to fully understand,
This complex human jam,
You just need a ticket in hand,
To fly to Amsterdam!
History walks the streets here,
In every pavement stone,
You find friendship and cheer,
On every face In town!
Watch the cyclist to the right,
They have the right of way,
Trams, buses are packed tight,
As the Dutch start their day!
Explore the city on your foot,
And relish the jolly sites,
Take a camera click and shoot,
The brilliance of the nights!
Tall buildings on either sides,
With waterways in the middle,
Spend a few euros on a ride,
To solve the human riddle!
Four centuries you will travel,
In a ride around the Gracht,
The mysteries quickly unravel,
As you relax in the raft!
Seventy bridges link the city,
That floats on wooden piles,
“The dancing ladies” look so pretty,
As they lean to their sides!
Great masters of colour and paint,
Lived their lives on this land,
Amongst the sinners and saints,
Were Van Gogh and Rembrandt!
War and peace, joy and tears,
Carved this beautiful place,
Good days amidst daunting fears,
As they etched out their space!
Coffee shops are everywhere,
And the window girls in town,
It is Cannabis best be aware,
Before you bite and gulp it down!
It is a beautiful, honest city,
That is fair to one and all,
While the rest of us talk of piety,
Our values and morals appal!
Health and wealth together ride,
On cycles, buses and tram,
Simple honesty is their guide,
In the city of Amsterdam!!
Categories:
trams, appreciation, beautiful, drug, happy,
Form:
Rhyme
Tram stops Old lady asks "Am I twirly?"
Conductor looks up tram and shakes his head
On she gets and on we go
As a young lad on the way to school
I often wondered how old one had to be
To be Twirly
Three stops on the way were always empty
Three stops in a row
Trams all stopped
The area was bombed out
No complete houses stood
No one ever asked why they stopped
It made me proud to ride
With folks like that
Twirly or not
Categories:
trams, historyold, old,
Form:
Bio
At Rotterdam in Netherlands
I made plenty of window friends
I could reach out to them
whenever I missed my own
friends and near ones back home.
The window facing the South unfolded
the beautiful, enchanting river Masse.
Its simmering and quivering depths reflected
the multitudenal colours of historic city it nurses.
The bright sunny days with clear blue skies
Were often dotted with jets with gaseous, white, long tails
Criss crossing randomly in all directions
expressing the vastness of freedom and joy.
The golden setting sun
sprinkled the mature shades of
orange and red and yellow
in the reflective silver flows of the Masse,
slowly admitting its failure
to defreeze the lakes and snows around
and to warm up the cockles
of the easterlies which travel
far from Russia on a typical winter day,
before being engulfed by
dark and grey clouds at the horizon
like a surrendering fugitive.
The act of humbleness of the mighty sun
the only energy source of our universe
betrayed the celeberative mood of the city lights
which danced proudly on the flowing waters of Masse at night.
The frame of the window facing the North
helped me rendezvous with few more friends
the historic church there
stood in its monolithic glory
kissing the sky with its long Needle thin tower
its clock religiously reminding us
of the duties that we had to perform,
could not be missed by anyone.
Looking down at the street below
the empty red and yellow trams of RET
curled in sleepily into their shelter
at Strissenburgdwarsstrat
for a well deserved rest
after having served the varied commuters
of the city of Rotterdam.
Not too far in the distance
beyond the red brick and brown brick roofs
and amongst bare trees
I could also spot a wind mill,
its huge wings rotating leisurely
ever challenging the winds to come faster.
From either of the windows
I could let my imagination fly
and accompany the lovely
seabirds to limitless ends
the greyish white winged beauties
were enticed closer to me
when I opened the window panes
with crumbs of bread for them,
thrilling me with their aerobics.
When I came back home from there,
and met my native friends again
I started to miss all these new friends of Rotterdam.
RET: Rotterdam Electric Tram (Rotterdamse Elektrische Tram)
Categories:
trams, city, friend, nostalgia, universe,
Form:
Free verse
Vertically they have gone to see the horizon
dividing into two parallel paths of iron and stone
nor to return or to encounter
sometimes, only crease cross
to pass trains and trams with passengers and goods
ever absurd they are;
On both the sides
modern civilization exists
mills, factories, industries, markets and localities are
in high rising skyscrapers, fashionable, colorful buildings
lines after lines vertically, horizontally
and underwardly growers they are;
Here and there wide and long hollow down bridges
over ponds, lakes, channels, rivers even seas
where ply boats, launches all the times,
sometimes through long tunnel
goes through hills, desert and channel
challenging explorers they are;
I have walked for long and long, faced long quarry
only iron and stone all through the journey
no pearls, diamond or ivory,
i have heard fierce, painful crying
but seen no tiger or lion roaring
absurd history makers they are;
I have seen cutting, burning, clearing forests
filling lakes, dishes, rivers,
leveling hills, killing wilds
for paving the paths of iron and stone,
for ever growing silver civilization
innumerable stations setters they are.
Categories:
trams, abuse, allah, art, baby,
Form:
Verse
by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2015
I loved to go camping in the Isle of Man,
Steam Packet leaving Liverpool at 12 am
arriving at Douglas at 6 in the morning,
see the Douglas Horse Drawn Tram, just as the day was dawning
coming down the Promenade, as the boat arrived
Picking up the people, it was great to be alive
We used to camp on Onchan Head, with a view of Douglas Bay
We’d pitch our tents, and set up camp, and then be on our way
down the Douglas Promenade, it was time for us to play
Sit on the beach in deckchairs, check the girls as they walked by
Jump on and off the Horse Drawn Trams, I can’t remember why
then at night time go to dances, the days just seemed to fly
two weeks without a worry, 14 days without a care
Drinking beer and whisky shorts with the Scots who gathered there
Then holiday time was over, we had to go back home
strike camp, and clear the area, till next time we could roam
Say goodbye to friends we’d made, then catch the Packet back
heading home to Manchester, and get our life on track
Categories:
trams, adventure, memory,
Form:
Rhyme