Death Train Poems | Examples
These Death Train poems are examples of Train poems about Death. These are the best examples of Train Death poems written by international poets.
I will not let my heart be kept
Under a stone at morn
Nor have my soul be swept
Under a carpet worn
For I have fought a winning fight
Against the living dead
So I will proudly lift my head
Into your glorious light
In times like these
When I’ve delayed all ease
That I could easily have had
I am not pained nor troubled nor sad
But content with the life I have
For written on the face of time
Is that in waiting in this world I find
All things will soon be mine
Some daysI feel it's time to move and
live by the sea, especially when the ghosts of
Altoona are haunting me..
Many cities in Pa., so rich in history,
They were hey days in their time.
It's no mystery...
This once-booming railroad town
is still being visited by those now underground..
Home to the infamous Horse Shoe Curve, with
its one-way tunnel that will truly unnerve..
Many unsuspecting drivers attempted to navigate
and met their swift untimely fate...
At 17th Street, a circus train derailed. Again, many
lost their lives as the animals all bailed.
Just like a used tire that manufacturers retread,
some people that die by accident are unaware that they are dead.
Most days I just pray and ask them to kindly move on, for
the ghosts of Altoona, I wave my magic wand.
I am a moving train
On a journey of no destination
Desperate as desperate can be
If you have embarked on this train in error
Resign yourself to fate
For there is no going back
If you are a willing Partaker
In this adventure of desperation
You are welcome to my world
We are in this together
Hold your breath my passengers
And see how far we can go
In this journey there are no stop overs
There are no restrictions
Let it go on
Do whatever you can
While it lasts
It is an adventure that could make you
It could also mar you
cause traveling is dying a little
We boarded the soulful train at birth.
We grasp our family will be our vassal.
Both of our parents will starve to death.
No one escorted us toward the gravel.
Our parents will debark from the train later.
Hence we're left alone along this journey.
Sprung people will be joining our tabor.
Family and companions are at life's worry.
Plenty will jump ship, leaving an endless void.
Others vanish so quietly we can't notice.
It'll be a train ride of farewell and fear alloyed
We must maintain a strong host alliance.
We are uncertain of our exit in this mystery.
But should adore, excuse, and utter our aware all.
It's crucial, yet we should abandon our seats empty.
We must improve comely memories for future recall.
Ashes to Ashes
Smoke
rises in the distance.
The boxcar
rocks,
rocks,
rocks;
stones
are placed along the ties.
Were they placed by Chance
or left
as gently as Kaddish.
I lift my hands in the darkness;
the light of the knothole
lights the tips of my fingers like Shabbat candles,
and I cover my eyes.
I can smell them,
the names
put in the furnace.
Silence screams out of the smoke stacks
as vowels burn away
as consonants try to escape the fire, flee
up the concrete throat and out
into the sky
escaping the camp disguised in grey coats of ash,
at last,
as winter covers the mirrors
of the lakes with ice.
Contest: Last Train to Auschwitz
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
The last holocaust train of infamous history
With the box cars of rusted steel
Seemed coated with patina of dry innocent blood
Turned the wheels to roll to Auschwitz
Take destiny to the door of death.
The cramped squalid space suffocating
The helpless doomed in deadly darkness
Thin streaks of sunbeam stifled
Like the rays of hope throttled
Never to breathe in the free air.
When the journey between life and death would end
No one knew until the train doors opened
Those who rose from the debris of the dead
Saw the last sunshine of the departing day
Extinguish in the gas chamber.
April 21, 2021
Contest : Last Train To Auschwitz
Sponsor : Kai Michael Neumann
Brown and worn
She slowly trundled,
Carrying the tattered and torn
Clutching their bundle.
She leans to the right
And then the left,
In that pitiful night
Laying sleepers bereft.
All her metal and carriage
Held a thousand souls
Between their marriage
Of her red hot coals.
And the wooden doors weep
The iron locks, hold their breath
While she screeches on
In her role of death.
Here lies the body of Nick O Tyme
Who never thought of crossing the line
Lived his life as quiet as could be
Only stimulant consumed was tea
Saved a lady from the path of a train
Regarding which he was true to his name
Result for him was not quite the same
***
November 14, 2019
F G I series 3 epitaph
Brian Strand, sponsor
Dropped a million
On a downtown train
Read a book about the devil
Cut myself with a red knife
Bled crazy
Still alive in this safe house
Chucking cards in a hat
In the pouring rain
Down the stairwell
In the middle of the street
I scream to Jesus
And bare my feet
It ain’t hard to believe
When you’ve died
Gone to hell
On a downtown train
Yellow windows
Nothing to see
Conductor is blind
Has a one-eyed dog
Ain’t never been straight
Down the tunnel
And up the hill
St. Bartholomew was born to kill
I’m living a lie I never lived
I never died.