Short Tram Poems

have you ever heard 
institute of technology
made by Sam Houston

Good old .

hit his head on tram
Houston had first name of Sam
should see all his spam

Can you top these?...

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Finally, she turned to statue
She appeared every where.
In train, in tram 
between peoples, a silent view.

Just watching a statue.
Every one such looks and pass
She was
such silent; with out motion
just alive her eyes.
Nobody knew....

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When Sam was broke, young, and foolish
He hit the road hitchhiking across the U.S.
Getting rides from cars, trucks, and buses
Going down the freeway and back highways
And occasionally in a city
Watching a tram passing by
Thinking perhaps
I'd rather ride a train...

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They are closing the shops
the town planners
are leaving on the tram,
semi millionaires hoover
at the half a million flats
how did it get this way?
possibly i'm bothered!
ripping out the centre,
to make sure any indigenous,
person couldn't join the scheme,
when did you stop
being my town?...

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BLIND LOVE RIPPLES

In an elevator
on a tram
waves crashing
on the shore
the baby in the pram.

Darkness enveloping
drowning in a hole
on top of it all
the light in your eyes
is the clarity as you see the whole.

The spoke of a wheel
chattering on
the volcano's lava flow
is the eagles broken wing
in the scream of dawn....

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Evadin' and duckin' like the plague
Spinnin' and shootin' like an Olajuwon fade

My shot! I am shootin'
Ha, ha!  Dream takers, I see you out lootin'

Suckas out too, a hatin'
Sucka free is me, no time a-wastin'

Blessin' up and smudgin'
Fakers are out begrudgin'

Shinin' like a diamond, I am
Blockers and haters, I no longer tram...

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another mind trip
a dreamy trek in fancy
adrift on downhill memory lane
leaning on the old high gate of
Strawberry Hill nursing home
Waiting for the Penny Lane tram
To walk by Calder Stones
Then ride to Pier Head
On top front seat to see it all
To watch green Liver birds turn red
With Mersey sunset light
Then walk the Promenade at night
In salted missed delight...

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ANAGRAMMATIC Poetry Form

An anagram mantra
Gramma acting manic 
Mama in a catamaran, cramming in a cigar
A martian mating in mint gin
A cat antic, grit at a rat act
Magma in a tin, anti-gamma rant
A tram cart ramming a car mart
Magi antic tracing air art
Gain magic in a grim margin
Am I an ant? A racing gnat?
I grin at rain, I’m a maniac again
Tag. I am it. ;)...

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Two friends talked over a term
While travelling by a tram 
One: What a life in me!
Full with happiness, luxury, satisfaction
Other: Are you happy?
One: No
Other: What a life in me!
Full with miseries, demand, deprivation
One: Are you sad?
Other: No
The talking ended at the desired stoppage
No one was victorious
Both were in confusion
They left the stoppage separately and lonely....

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Joy! Just saw a picture of my boy at Fleetwood...
All those years ago by Quayside Music and Fruity Louis.
It was a good photo, as well, with a yellow tram
turning to corner on trusty rails.

It was lovely to see him, once more at age of six,
our both planning our tram-filled day,
and then the excitement of the night to come
when all illuminations would shine in fun.





6/30/2015...

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I close my eyes and see
Flower tipped waves.
Purple coloured tram lines
As far as the eye can see.
I’m transported to Provence
Or I’m with the monks on Caldey Island.
A scented calm washes over me
My mind as come to rest
the power of a flowers fragrance
this day does not now feel so daunting
the trials can come and go.
This poem is brought to you by Frebreze
and my creative imagination....

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Oh death your sting will plea
rejoice cancerous vile flesh.
And scab bandages the angel's plea.
of bliss to rest from arrogant men.

Mode I do abhor the card
casting of my flesh moray.
Lipstick stains and gill vanguard
tears swift by tram alleyway.

My memories the broadsword
thing left to hold me to thane.
Womb called life resale abhorred
permeability train.
Headed in the quest of
finality....

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Playing over and over the video of tram in Alexanderplatz
forever coming to a halt upon the line.
People waiting over and over for what they'll never board,
but I find it soothing to behold.

Playing over and over the yellow tram
and hearing the mellow sound upon the rails.
The German man steps forward, but will never board
for the tram begins once more to come, but never does.






4/3/2020...

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A face worse than Traffic Jam!
Charles badly wants to melt Sam:
The Man to before Men slam
And him cause to board a tram…

Charles had been by choice A Clam
But he sure hits like A Bam!
And can hands down beat Sam;
With or without eating Yam
With not glucose his guts cram…

“One thing to tell you Champ Sam:
For me you slaughter a ram
Or I shall your river dam;
The World show you weigh less gram!”...

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The Cock and Bull in darkened street,
and the lintel like mahogany.
I liked the way the corner turned
and did this so abruptly.

I liked the shutters closed for night -
they were really quite appealing,
and never in the darkness grown
would you know that they were peeling.

The tram rails were in front of me
and darkened trams were moving,
and eventually I got on one
and left Bordeaux behind me.





1/13/216...

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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...

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A distant mumble, a muffled drum roll. 
Seconds on, come the serious decibels. 
Heavy rumbling with sharp percussions. 
Squeal of the steel; wheel scraping on the rail. 
Metal clatter loudens then dies to silence.
Spent fares alight and new fares climb aboard. 

Ting ting. The cream and green is off again, 
above it, brief flashes of lightning blue 
as straying volts are lost to salty air. 
Soon far off the rumbling fading away. 
...

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A passing tram
and people
on Sunday morning walks
provide the pretext
of direction and give
a vague, comforting hope
that movement
has a purpose.

But the hard stuff
has a fuzzy core.
A ghostly roulette wheel
of what could be
makes the morning
ride the vagaries 
of a spinning ball.

Yet all is anchored,
somehow,
to this lovely illusion
of a cafe table
on which there is
an arrangement
of perfumed flowers,
two cups of coffee,
two warm croissants
and you and me....

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Passing old memory lanes as the tram journeys towards home,
how in the maze of thoughts do I find some happiness?
Windows will share the tears on a rainy day.

Destroying the old worlds as we fly around the globe,
It was always raining in the new lands,
parts of self left behind in pieces in the thoughts of friends

Finding freedom in bonding with the unknown,
filling empty baskets for the occasions of nostalgia,
Realising only in the riddle of dreams where we truly belong,
Nowhere....

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