Long Station Poems
Long Station Poems. Below are the most popular long Station by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Station poems by poem length and keyword.
Quickly we had our breakfasts
Then we both gazed
At the station clock
The morning train is late
Everything is wet
At night, the rain poured heavy
I listened to it
Hitting the bricks on the roof.
So tasty is this coffee, you said
The smell of bread, the flame of the oven
And the two bags
You didn’t wear your trench coat, I asked
You didn’t reply
You doubted
Whether we could reach the airport before noon
The plane won’t wait for us, you said
What if the train never arrives
We have no time
The hands of the clock are not moving
And those waiting before us
Took their bags and disappeared
What are we waiting for?
I was lost in the cumulus clouds
Over the chimneys of country houses
Yet, the village was still sleeping
The station guard switched off the lights
And left, humming a song
Tell me
When will we leave too?
No one is here
Even you
You are not here
The rain has dried up
Your dreams became pale
And very far is the airport.
It was a late August summer day, very hot
We went for a hike, wandered and lost our way
We often wonder why we got lost and forgot
It was almost a night that we didn’t want to stay
We walked for hours in the woods before nightfall
If we were still lost that night, we had no plans
We then heard a bark and saw him, robust and tall
A lab with a blue- collar came over and licked our hands
He barked and ran back and forth in front of us
We decided to follow him, maybe he knew the trail
We ended up at the ranger’s station and finally home
We found our compass that day, better than a phone
He was part of the search and rescue ranger crew
He was our rescue angel and named compass too
Poetry Wheel Challenge:
Theme: Journey
Emotion: Wonder
Color: Blue
Season: Late Summer
Form: Sonnet
Object: Compass
Verb: Wander
Created using the PoetrySoup Poetry Wheel.
the end of childhood
I was 9 and in a way an old hand
I had been outside the police station
When women were brought in
they have their cut short because
They had been too friendly with
the enemy
One can say I was a hardened soul
Who didn't expect kindness
I was on my way to a farm, someone
had sent me there for my health
On the way, I got a cat sick, but there was
No window, but I spewed anyway
When the bus stopped, a man in a suit
waited, we walked to a farm
The farmer signed a paper stating that he was responsible
For my well, apparently, I was ill
The farmer's wife led me to a cot in the attic
The mattress was made of straw, not
That I minded, but it does scratch a bit
Then, in the morning, they gave me bread
with homemade jam and milk
Later, they showed me how to provide for cows
dry hay and to clean the muck they
had made in the night, yes, and to give
them water
The cattle liked me scratching their flanks
And I was glad to have hands to scratch
the back of my head
Then I had to go to school, the farmer boys
called me a slum child, but when a boy
Try to hit me, and I struck him with a brick
Big scandal, when this was debated
I worked and enjoyed my work at the farm
At thirteen, I was sent home, big and strong
and quickly found a job delivering
printed stuff on my bike
And that was the end of my childhood
A Plea to the Charioteer
My prayers to you Charioteer
To guide me to the path full of light,
To lead me to the road that is right
And drive me to the route that is bright.
Let not the heat of anger besiege me
Nor the pangs of pride assail me,
Keep me clear from the sin of arrogance,
And free from the whiffs of petulance.
Should my mind ever go astray
Or should my faith in you ever sway,
Do refresh my veins with your flame
And goad me to the noble way.
Should hurdles be laid on my lanes,
Steer your chariot to evade them
Without inflicting any strain
Or any pain on anyone.
Should I ever wish to quit the field
Instil in me the strength and the will
To inner foes never to yield
Until I reach my last station.
I pray that you ever be by my side
And brace me with courage enough
To confront every stormy tide,
To vanquish every hidden foe
In battles within, though rough and tough.
When the final breath I will heave,
My plea that you fly me in your chariot
To your bright heavenly abode
My most cherished goal to achieve
To serve you at your wish and will.
Long ago, Mithila was left at this forsaken station,
As the train slipped away on the wrong track,
cutting all horizons.
There was no return
Mithila knew it, even then.
This waiting was only a silent, endless sigh.
In the dust-covered mirror of nostalgia,
Her past flickers, bright as gleaming,
Unreal in its stillness and beauty.
The present? A colourless traveller
That tells no stories, only passes by.
So much time has passed
As if a lifetime quietly devoured all she knew.
Mithila, lost in the unknown crowd, now nameless.
The rails no longer tune
The rhythm faded with the fog.
Time moved on, but never came back in harmony.
The train still whistles
But only for its own journey,
Not for Mithila.
There is no vacant seat for her now, no backwards glance.
Mithila is now just a name,
Drifting in the air of a grey and lonesome afternoon.
No one remembers her,
Only time leaves behind a fading trace.
And the future?
It is a nameless station of Waiting
Not new, just another destination of solitude.
Mary was the poetess
who loved handsome Franco,
the tall Neapolitan orchestra leader;
and in Naples they met:
at The Galleria Umberto,
under the surveillance of my father...
Mary was barely eigtheen,
and writing was her only passion;
even her big, hazel eyes were
as light as the Tyrannean Sea in summer,
somehow too melanchonic as a fading moon,
which longed more for a friend than a lover!
Her first song was recorded in Milan, with a brilliant
production of composer Angelo Camis;
that song became quite popular in Capo D'Istria,
and in all the booth-shaped Italian Peninsula!
Ermanna Melli from the city of Forli was the artist
with that mellow, sensual and expressive voice!
" What's this desire? " a delicate and spontaneous love song,
captured a large audience, both young and old...
it was a song telling of the emotions of a young heart too naive,
falling in love with someone much older that she was, indeed;
and it made many people cry, perhaps recalling the time
they fell for someone as special and gorgeous as Mary's dream guy!
Mary, your song still plays on the airwaves of that radio station and although
you no longer sing it in the manner of a famous virtuoso: the visions
of your past life become too real as you performed it by surprise;
it is the jewel you left on earth for us to remember you by,
and it immesely dazzles like every rainbow in the Capri's sky...
when an unknown tenor improvises his impassioned aria with an absolute sorrow!
Mary was the poetess who dedicted her time
writing about love, but never found it in reality;
she was my oldest sister inspiring me with her creativity!
Mary had the potential of becoming great and shine,
but the tides turned abruptly and fate wasn't kind:
even today, her fearless voice comes alive through her poetry!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
I must have one of those faces
or maybe people just assume
that because I'm quiet
I must be a good listener, because
wherever I go- they find me
The talkers, the sad, the lonely
the frustrated, the depressed
the I-just-don't-know-what-to-dos
Like the nameless young woman
who hailed me like a cab
in the gas station parking lot
to tell me that she's pregnant
just found out today
and there's no way
she's having it because
she just had a baby
about a month ago
her husband doesn't even know
yet, and she's so upset!
Or like the produce guy at the grocery store
who suddenly told me he's not speaking
to his brother anymore
after last night's drunken fight...
Or the customer I barely knew
who cried on my shoulder
telling me how, since she's gotten
older- her husband doesn't
love her anymore
then asked me to say a prayer
right then and there
assuming for some reason
that I knew what to do
so I held her hand
and fumbled and bumbled my
awkward way through...
Or the co-workers calling me
all hours of day and night
with their various plights
bedroom problems I don't want to hear-
“Have you ever tried telling
your husband this, dear?”
Random people, random problems
maybe ignorance really is bliss?!
Or maybe I'm in the wrong line of work-
'cause I could get paid for this...
Hold back the night
She was a chestnut haired beauty,
standing there all alone...
I knew that I... had to get close to her,
She had a stare that could melt
your heart... if she wanted to...
I felt... something deep and warm start to stir
The night was still young, but both
of us well... not so much...
I knew that I... had to make her mine
She had an elegant way, and a soft...
tender touch...
If I could...I'd hold back... the hands of time
Chorus
So please hold back the night,
I don't want this to end
everything feels so right,
this is true...not pretend
so please, hold back the night,
please don't say we're just friends
so please hold back the night,
wish this night never ends
She told me straight to my face...
that, love was not kind to her...
I could see she needed, someone to hold
I wrapped my arms around...
and I tried to comfort her...
Cos, too many times she'd been left in the cold
Chorus
So please hold back the night,
I don't want this to end
everything feels so right,
this is true...not pretend
so please, hold back the night,
please don't say we're just friends
so please hold back the night,
wish this night never ends
We spent the night at the station...
waiting for the early train
I fought desperately to hold back the night
She said I'd made her feel better...
would we ever meet again?
I said sure... cos it just felt so right
Chorus
So please hold back the night,
I don't want this to end
everything feels so right,
this is true...not pretend
so please, hold back the night,
please don't say we're just friends
so please hold back the night,
wish this night never ends
I called her two days later to see...
if she was ok
She said, that she ...was doing just fine
I didn't know, that Toronto would
be our favorite place
So glad... I tried to hold back... that night
Chorus
So please hold back the night,
I don't want this to end
everything feels so right,
this is true...not pretend
so please, hold back the night,
please don't say we're just friends
so please hold back the night,
wish this night never ends
please hold back the night
please hold back the night
please hold back the night
fade to zero
John Derek Hamilton
February 17, 2018
Satisfying founts of passions, a celebration remains unattainable
Like admiring the unreachable, possession remains unattainable.
Carved pains from which to heal, an abiding endeavour
As pleasure of the mind its satisfaction remains unattainable.
Passion and reason within a soul, harmony far to reach
Ever refining a beautiful soul, perfection remains unattainable.
Poetry, language of uncontrollable words, a wonder to uncover
Soaring imagination, the destination remains unattainable.
Beauty, a value of the mind, rainbows of perception
Like truth core, the heart distinction remains unattainable.
Love, that’s Life in motion, the soul rebirth and growth
Occupying all Love chambers, a dimension remains unattainable.
Nature speaks to silent hearts and feeds restful souls
Walking on Nature’s path, the last station remains unattainable.
In the temple of Light, one Besma raises passionate a sight
Abiding in blessedness, her plea of emotion remains attainable.
September 14th, 2018
I don't usually talk about this.
I use poems to vent about my relationship a lot.
But honestly there's a lot going on.
I'm realizing it wasn't all my fault.
I left home at 16 and my parents never really forgave me for leaving them.
But also,
They didn't tell me to come home.
I knew my mum wanted me there,
She still says she feels my absence.
But it felt like my dad didn't want me there anymore.
My dad had done things he shouldn't have done.
He had hurt me far more than he'd ever care to admit.
I realized I had to leave.
They were supposed to protect me.
I left and life just kicked the sh*t out of me from that day forward.
I started the race 100 yards behind all the kids at my school who went home to their families and didn't have to wash their hair in the gas station bathroom.
They weren't sleeping on a bench in a park because it was easier than being with their families.
It wasn't my fault.
It just happened.
I forgive my mother. I try hard to forgive my father.
I know they did their best.
It wasn't good enough for me in the end, and that's just how it is.
But it wasn't my fault.
I wasn't wrong to try to feel safe.
I wasn't wrong to want to live somewhere I felt wanted.
It wasn't my fault.
Ps.
I still miss you guys, even if I couldn't stay. I wish I could see you again.