Long Railroad Poems
Long Railroad Poems. Below are the most popular long Railroad by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Railroad poems by poem length and keyword.
They made their camp across the tracks upon the edge of town.
Their colored wagons in a circle, anchored to the ground.
Each night their music could be heard drifting through the air.
Their singing and their dancing, a tradition that they shared.
They cooked their food by fire and they bathed inside the pond.
But none would cross the railroad tracks or venture much beyond.
‘No gypsies, tramps or thieves allowed,’ written on a sign.
‘No crossing back and forth, in either way across the line.’
But there were two who crossed the line at midnight every night.
Their burning love ignited underneath the starry light.
No wooden sign or words of hate could separate the two.
Their passion was undying, and their love was strong and true.
Sadly, the two lovers did not know the strength of hate.
Until they were discovered and they met their tragic fate.
Now their ghosts still meet at midnight underneath the moon.
Two lovers bound forever, their love was gone too soon.
April 26, 2012
Oh how you beckoned
My heart to your door,
Among the maple leaves
And hydrangea trees
Or was it the shine
upon your floors?
Yet deep into, the blackened night
Slaves once ran, to save their lives,
relieving their pain
and get some rest,
A railroad stop
To catch their breath.
Your steadfast spirit
Of sadder days,
when people stayed
for Freedom's sake,
Yet today, I find your gracious past,
An honorable place for those to rest.
And I a lowly traveler too,
Will find such comfort
From a different view ...
And sit among the maple trees
Or smell a hydrangea
And feel the breeze.
Then I'll pray a bit
before I leave
and thank the Lord
for every Being
That hung a light for those to see
Among the maple leaves
And hydrangea trees.
The essence in us is the same as the essence of the sun
Cast to be found and displaced
stake and brave to a common bound
new to a four-point barrel of rolls
because me this search point opening
bumper speed as slow to show eternal
for they came brain to some knowledge
In inspired to college for they are acknowledged
to brave and creep lot and low in each
believe and see us fetch for they are gone
let us see your heart at our neck
so, believe a person outside but won't chief
food of support bait on the court
range to a bird that is frowned abound
girl is spins above order just and open
sidetracked or railroad tracks
walk a pound trail of Bizzle and God
rapper of obtention or complete mindless
nation wise and starting writing to best
space minds earth higher combine special gifts......
He’d have to take his new jeans off to swim
Or mom is sure to paddle his tail.
So, his skinned them off, climbed atop the railroad bridge,
folding them with the greatest care, laid them on the rail.
It was the first day of summer vacation and the days
would limp along into the fall.
He swung on the rope, splashed, swam like a fish, held his breath clean to the bottom, showing no fear at all.
The sun was bright, and birds tweeted and darted among the trees,
a breeze moved and shadows danced, embracing the summer leaves.
When just above the cheer and laughter a distant whistle blew
and the boys waved with the greatest joy as the passenger train passed through.
It seemed like time stood still but all good times must end,
each boy had his share of fun and his stories to defend.
Little Edward Earl had his stories too of the adventure he would tell,
he’d better shinny up the hill and fetch his jeans off the rail
He grinned from the pleasure of pleasures as he clamored up the grade
But sometimes with best intentions, the biggest mistakes are made.
And as the old saying goes “for every sunny day, a little rain must fall”
for Edward was looking at shredded jeans he failed to recognize at all.
They tied the remnants around him in rendition of Tarzan fame.
gathered round him like Roman Soldiers hiding away his shame
He was tip toeing through the washroom, his eyes, searching and keen
when mom called from the kitchen, “Edward, come show dad your new blue jeans.”
. for public domain
(after listening to Wolfmother Vagabond, rhythm lifted without permission)
The wind blows down the railroad track,
it blows on down the road.
The creek flows down the gully out back,
to where I never knowed.
I'm just sittin' on my own porch swing,
sippin' wine.
I'm just grinnin' on my old porch swing,
feelin' fine.
I'm just sinnin' on the old porch swing,
passin' time.
I got my house, I got my dog,
I got my blue suede shoes.
Pitless cherry in a cherry pie,
no cause to light my fuse.
I'm just sittin' on my own porch swing,
sippin' wine.
I'm just grinnin' on my old porch swing,
feelin' fine.
I'm just sinnin' on the old porch swing,
passin' time.
The sun is way up in the sky,
the moon is up there too.
and if you've got a mind for fun,
I singin' this with you.
We're just sittin' on an own porch swing,
sippin' wine.
We're just grinnin' on an old porch swing,
feelin' fine.
We're just sinnin' on an old porch swing,
passin' time.
Wherever peaches grow I go and pick 'em.
When they get ripe I try and swipe 'em.
The farmer runs out with a shotgun and wonders where's the varmint gone?
I'm hiding by the railroad tracks stacking the peaches I've found.
Then a freight train about a mile long rolls by hauling a bucket of rain.
I hop aboard while beautiful clouds gather to the north.
I put my peaches in the bucket and lug it to a hidden part of the train.
The rain begins, the night looms in, it's summer and it's thoughts and warm.
To the clacking rumble and the patter I close my eyes and dream.
An earthquake swallows up the people who wear horrible masks of fright as
their daily tasks are trampled.
In a favorite movie theater an illumined lady puts her hand in mine, warm
mouths, breath, skin, hair wing-soft, whole bodies, wind, bare.
I open my eyes at sunrise there's a steady glow of light around.
If you can believe in God, you can believe the mountains go from purple to
green.
While the last partier meanders home to bed the first farmer is up to milk his
bread.
Fruit of the world ripens audibly and cities make a silent, distant sound.
Lonely guy stretches, rubs his eyes, pees out a passing train, has a
breakfast of peaches and rainwater.
The notorious Jones gang had robbed the bank in town
And as they made their escape a man was gunned down
It was Bill the mayor and he'd tried to stop the gang
I'd been walking by the river when I'd heard a loud bang.
I ran towards the bank and saw the gang ride away
Bill was so badly injured he died later that day
I was sheriff of the town and asked for volunteers
Ten good men raised their hands to rapturous cheers.
I had a hunch they'd head west to the old copper mine
Where a deserted cabin stood by the railroad line
It had a well for fresh water that their horses would need
They'd be so thirsty having run at a galloping speed.
We all saddled up our horses and headed west out of town
It was now starting to get dark as the sun was going down
A few hours out we found the cabin where they'd rested
The fire was still warm as the dying embers suggested.
They'd split up their haul we found the empty bags discarded
We too stopped for a rest and soon the cabin we vacated
We carried on and reached the badlands that godforsaken place
Where many a poor soul had disappeared without trace.
We came across the outlaws camp later the same day
And for the murder of Bill I was going to make them pay
We surrounded their camp and a shootout began
I shouted to the posse "we need them alive if you can".
The gangs bullets ran out and they put their hands in the air
They cast aside their weapons they hadn't a care
We handcuffed the four of them and headed back to town
And we arrived back that evening just before sundown.
The townsfolk were ecstatic and our praises they sang
The next day in the courthouse all were sentenced to hang
Their lawyers plea for leniency by the judge was rejected
But if you rob and kill then swift justice is to be expected.
Written on Friday 19th June 2020
For thesaurus -Abandon Or Abandon Poetry Contest
Sponsored By A Dear Heart.
distant train whistle – long, spread out,
gray moth flies up, lands on my porch railing
a lazy not quite fall day, first of September.
Not too hot yet, but will be nineties at four o’clock.
Enjoying the seventy-three of this second.
I soak up the quiet and the sun’s Vitamin D.
Bird tweeting gets louder.
Three short toots of a train whistle.
Probably at a railroad crossing.
I know of no crossings around here.
A squirrel races between two walnut trees
dog does not notice, growling at the road.
Rooster’s crow comes again, long and drawn out this time.
I wonder if he is mimicking the train’s whistle?
Amazingly quiet day. All calm here, and at peace in Kansas.
There was once a time
When everyone would rhyme
Everything that came to mind
Every thought was hot
Every move was smooth
Every word spoken could not be broken
For each word was linked to the next
Like a train on a trek
They took us home and back
And the clickity clack
Of the railroad tracks
Kept all our memories intact
I once knew a fellow who was mellow
All he ever did was eat green Jello
Until one day when we all went out to play
I could see him wiggle when he giggled
And I thought it a dream
When his skin turned green
But perhaps he was just a silly Martian
Back then, life for kids was harder that it should have been
They say that kids had rights too, but I don’t remember when
Back then, If their were child labor laws, they never told us
If labor laws for kids were broken, none made a fuss
Back then, I remember chopping weeds in the oven of the sun
Kids had to work long hours, but we also played and had lots of fun
Back then, kids played cowboys and Indians in the light of day,
And chased lightning bugs in the black of night
Back then, I had a friend name Dennis, and he was not a menace
We played baseball, basketball, football, but not golf or tennis
Dennis and I lived on opposite sides of the busy railroad track;
And he had a big brother who road a mule loaded with cotton sacks
Yes, Dennis and I were very best buddies in our early days
But the years went by as we grew older, and went our separate ways
When I think of Dennis, I happily remember the good times of our childhood
We kept busy shooting marbles and rolling rubber tires throughout the neighborhood. I haven’t heard from Dennis, but I would love to see him if I could.
I once heard it said in a Christian song that friends are friends forever
I sure hope to see my friend Dennis on this side of never
Perhaps we could laugh and talk about farm life and the fun times
Perhaps we could remind each other when we bought ice cream for a dime
Perhaps we could chat about when kids were free and fearless of crime
Perhaps we could laugh about the gray hairs on our heads and under our chins
Perhaps we could talk about the distant days and ask, “Remember when?”
Perhaps we could share our stories of how we changed from boys to men
On this side of never, we would write letters, email, or visit every now and then.
On this side of never, we would both recall when our money was very thin
On this side of never, we would reminisce about house roofs made of tin
Yes, I well recall “The Perhaps”, “Back Then’s”, and “Remember When’s”.
And I do miss Dennis, and I hope to see him before this life is finished.
cj01262007