my thoughts race fast like a train on the tracks.
dangerous and fast.
they fly by faster and faster.
the tracks chatter and chatter.
the thoughts speed.
the darkened tunnel is approaching.
is this the end…?
the thoughts are screeching to be heard.
louder and louder they call.
sparks fly from the rails
the train comes to a halt.
the thoughts stop.
nothing but silence.
the thoughts will never be heard.
never.
If it were tonight
If you're lonely come to me
Take the train
It stops by you at ten twenty two
Its a long train ride for you
Along through the Bible belt
Sweeping across the tops of trees
As they stand naked in the cold
Its as if the cold remembers me
As if it were at tonight
Tonight the night when all our passions touched
Our walks along the ancient slabs of glacier rock
how did I get so far
Without a God
How did I get so high
If not to want to touch the Sun
The things I forget about appear in my dreams
To touch to hug to laugh as if for real
To that if there is one to thank
I thank you
To have that chance of love
Boxcar graffiti travels from town to town
It's the eye candy of someone handy, sown
In the sunshine or the rain
It travels on on the train
To all passersby it is known
Nothing short of a museum display
Nothing short of a Fairey
The colors dance
The colors romance
For all who have come out today
We've see your art in different ways
I heeded the message that it portrays
Not to be out done
It's etched for everyone
I've got my lawn chair out to save my place
When I hear that whistle blow
I look outside my window
There for me to see
The glamorous artistry
It's time to start the show
So when it comes into view
It is time to imbue
Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall
Palate, paint pen or aerosol
A boxcar reserved for me and you
Then the eerie sound sight
Of a train whistle at night
Gets my mind rolling
Memories start patrolling
I'll live forever in my minds flight
Go in the side entrance
Walk across the concourse
Out the front entrance
Round to the left
Round into the side street
Back into the concourse.
This is the pathway to finding out
Nothing.
As it is at the train station
So it is in life's world
Nobody can be relied upon
Blind ones sharing an eye
But not a brain
As a small boy
That steam locomotive
Long, black and
Right in my face
As a small boy
That red diesel locomotive
Moving from idle humming to a roar
Louder, louder than any lion
As a larger boy
The view outside
Ever chancing
Yet the same
As a larger boy
The view inside
Someone to
Fantasize about
As an older boy
Realizing that
Grandparents
Don’t live forever
As an older boy
Experiencing that
Ist dieser Sitz frei?
Can get off to a good start
As a young draftee
Reading names
Inscribed on a brass plaque
In a silent corner of the station
As a young working man
That horseshoe curve in the mountain
Must have been hard work
Harder than my imagination
Today the train was due
And overdue
When I asked: Is this taken
Not a seat was free
And this old man
Wrote this poem
Still fascinated
And feeling older
cuckoo for choo-choo
but this train left the station
mas poco loco
Night trains' theatre
Saturday to Sunday, after midnight going home, the restaurant closed
Walk to the station, get on Bond Street, the train works, takes me home,
Change at Baker Street from Jubilee line to Metropolitan line, fast walk
In the stations and subways walked people cheerfully, men and women
Time after night, hmm, happy people traveled in the carriage, past time
Hmm, bombastic amazing ladies, they talked cheerfully and just laughed
Night Train movie, this is one of the theatres in my life. Watching the life,
on the trains. People, passengers, young, old, different nationalities
Hmm, colorful existence is a tale in life. Nothing, everything is life.
Wembley Park Station
Arriving to home
The theatre closed
Night trains
People in the night and the daytime, just traveling, silent lives
No one talks, someone is reading a book, and others are playing on phones
Still others are engrossed in the daily news. Interesting community. Friendship
Every day, day by day, millions of people are traveling, going to work, church, or party
But not the same experience, or impressions, but the same views, melancholy, dream
Dead interactions? Yes, it’s that. The reason is the fear. It’s created psychologically.
Night trains. I love it more. Every people a sister or brother, but daytime also, but…
… something is different. But on the train, in a public community friendship is stopped.
Fear, inhibition. Fear from the psychology and law. Directness is punished.
Anti-humanistic science
It kills life, don’t be a human!
Hmm, there are answers
Brings it the trains of the science of dark.
Hearts such as mine
such as yours
should never travel
on bullet trains.
though the trip allowed
but a few hours
was never scheduled, never ours
w' nowhere to go but forward
into a dark unknown.
not one to complain
w'you tagging along
the fare's still the same,
I always loved your song.
something soothing, calming
enveloping me in timbre and tone
like softest rain falling
o'er battered fortress walls.
Nigel likes to talk about planes
And trains and motorbikes.
He has a few friends
Who like the same.
I say to him: "Why does the piston go up and down?"
He tells me,
But I don't really understand.
I go back to my poetry books
And let my imagination soar.
While Nigel gets on his bike and makes it roar.
May we be blessed to acknowledge all the wonders in our life
that have, for us, thus far accrued…
and to begin each day with a word of thanks…
and thoughts of gratitude.
Today I’m thankful for trains
and the way they make us all behave…
How when we hear that whistle
the youngest and oldest ones among us
will
smile…run to them..and wave
Coming down to this lost pier
Under the bridge of no sighs
The bollards not used, no boats moor here
Back and forth on the river they ply
Carrying tourists, and locals as well
To destinations unknown
I do not envy them, though cannot tell
Which place to I do belong
This spatial disorientation
Is such an exhausting disorder
Dislodged, I offer frustration
For the ticket to cross your border
I hear the trains clanking buffers
Over the bridge they rush through
You say there’s no reason to suffer
I would love to agree with you.
It’s a boy thing
the clickety-clack, clickety-clack
of a train along its tracks
all manner of boys
from diapered toddler
to arthritic codger
from suited gent
to aproned chef
the clickety-clack, clickety-clack
ignites within them
the feeling of freedom
and faraway places
the clickety-clack, clickety-clack
fills their hearts
with a special joy
enlivening their faces
with an apple-cheeked grin
and when there is
a head of steam
and that whistle blows
they all know
that the clickety-clack, clickety-clack
pulses and echoes
just for them.
I wish I had a few ending words
to complete a compelling story with.
Maybe a poem
with end lines that actually end,
but then
those kind of ending
might die too soon.
That’s how a poem should be,
no defined beginnings and endings
nothing finished, always moving on,
moving into a falling away silence
that speaks out loud.
That kind of muse comes back at you;
wants to be known
not necessarily understood.
Last lines are keys,
they unlock that invisible door
in your mind.
They are unreasonable
and that is why they say something
beyond the margins
of any page.
Every night, the train's melody unfolds
Its resonant hum, a whispered cosmic sigh
In the depths of sleep, its secrets it holds
Time and existence converge as it passes by
Revealing the symphony of life's grand design
Its resonant hum, a whispered cosmic sigh
Within its rhythmic cadence, I find mine
A journey embarked upon the ethereal rails
Revealing the symphony of life's grand design
Transcending mere existence, love prevails
As the train's wheels trace destiny's path
A journey embarked upon the ethereal rails
Infinite possibilities, intertwining aftermath
The merging of souls, a cosmic ballet
As the train's wheels trace destiny's path
Eternity's embrace, we willingly obey
In twilight's embrace, our spirits entwine
The merging of souls, a cosmic ballet
Every night, the train's melody unfolds
In the depths of sleep, its secrets it holds
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.