Song Of The Rail
Oh, an ugly thing is an iron rail,
Black, with its face to the dust.
But it carries a message where winged things fail;
It crosses the mountains, and catches the trail,
While the winds and the sea make sport of a sail;
Oh, a rail is a friend to trust.
The iron rail, with its face to the sod,
Is only a bar of ore;
Yet it speeds where never a foot has trod;
And the narrow path where it leads, grows broad;
And it speaks to the world in the voice of God;
That echoes from shore to shore.
Though the iron rail, on the earth down flung,
Seems kin to the loam and the soil,
Wherever its high shrill note is sung,
Out of the jungle fair homes have sprung,
And the voices of babel find one tongue,
In the common language of toil.
Of priest, and warrior, and conquering king,
Of Knights of the Holy Grail,
Of wonders of winter, and glories of spring,
Always and ever the poets sing;
But the great God-Force, in a lowly thing,
I sing, in my song of the rail.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Old Brass Rail
Foot on the rail in the olden days,
For all the world to see,
A jolly old lot, they took their pot
All unashamed and free,
Passing their jest from lip to lip,
Puffing away the foam,
Till a small voice cried from the path outside:
'Ma says, you're to come on home.'
Foot on the rail they faced the world
And cared not who should know;
And many they went, thro' a life mis-spent
As man a man must go
Straight to the dogs from the old brass rail,
Lost and ruined and wrecked:
But he went to his fate with the game played straight:
And he went with his head erect.
Then came the camel, with his lip adroop,
Calling an end to fun.
Tho' his cause was strong, his way was wrong,
And his task was most ill done.
Turning a man to a furtive sneak,
Stealing by ways obscure,
Bad if you will was the old, old ill;
But worse by far was the cure.
Oh, man will sin as his fathers sinned
Since ever this world was made;
But, if he must sin, then let him sin
In the open, unafraid;
Foot on the old brass rail again
For all the world to see.
A jolly old lot who takes his tot
All unashamed and free.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Hawk Revisited
Told of the hawk on the rail
friends wink.
'A hawk? In the Barrio'?
Not knowing what to think
they glance at each other, first, then at their knees,
stare at the vacant rail, then back at me
as if I'd claimed to see
an elf in Bermudas sipping a Sea-Breeze;
hasten to agree
concluding my mistake, if any, harmless-
the sort of thing that happens every day,
'Goodbye', say, and quickly slip away.
Till I conclude the raptor on the rail
the ruins of a burst balloon
snatched by the wind from some child's bouquet
caught, now, on the rail's disjointed finger;
or, drifting in place
an expirant shred of sooty plastic;
some out-the-window flung
sheer article of lingerie;
a wretched mistake-
an hallucination
a figment of imagination,
indigestion-
anything but the hawk it was.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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The Rail
Long hard days, long cold nights
I work on the rail driving rail road spikes
I work all day from dusk til dawn
We don't take a break til the beans are done
The boss man says, Pick up those spikes
Lay out those rails make them fit just right
Pick up the hammer and drive it in
What I'm paying you boys, I ain't your friend
They pay me boys to tell you what to do
There's another thousand rails to lay, we ain't through
I work all day and I bust my back
I make my money on a rail road track
I work long days and long cold nights
Lay out that rail and lay it right
Pick up a hammer and I drive it in
Then reach for another and do it all again
I'm working on a rail road
Taking care of my own
Carrying my own load
I'm working on a rail road.
poem by Bill Simmons
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No Foe Shall Gather Our Harvest
Sons of the mountains of Scotland,
Welshmen of coomb and defile,
Breed of the moors of England,
Children of Erin's green isle,
We stand four square to the tempest,
Whatever the battering hail-
No foe shall gather our harvest,
Or sit on our stockyard rail.
Our women shall walk in honour,
Our children shall know no chain,
This land, that is ours forever,
The invader shall strike at in vain.
Anzac!...Tobruk!...and Kokoda!...
Could ever the old blood fail?
No foe shall gather our harvest,
Or sit on our stockyard rail.
So hail-fellow-met we muster,
And hail-fellow-met fall in,
Wherever the guns may thunder,
Or the rocketing air-mail spin!
Born of the soil and the whirlwind,
Though death itself be the gale-
No foe shall gather our harvest
Or sit on our stockyard rail.
We are the sons of Australia,
of the men who fashioned the land;
We are the sons of the women
Who walked with them hand in hand;
And we swear by the dead who bore us,
By the heroes who blazed the trail,
No foe shall gather our harvest,
Or sit on our stockyard rail.
poem by Dame Mary Gilmore
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Rollin' And Ramblin' (The Death Of Hank Williams)
Folks in Nashville slammed the door
Said we don't want you anymore
Find your own way down the road
Pack your fiddle and your guitar
Take a train or take a car
Find someone else to keep you from the cold
Rollin' and ramblin'
Women loved him half to death
He sang with whiskey on his breath
His heart broke like a child's
Rollin' and ramblin'
The sun has set out on the trail
The hobo's drifted up the rail
He's taken his last ride
Oh, he always sang the blues
Like it was all he ever knew
He didn't sing at all that night
He was pale and as he dozed
He didn't know his time had closed
Slumped in the back seat to the right
Rollin' and ramblin'
Women loved him half to death
He sang with whiskey on his breath
His heart broke like a child's
Rollin' and ramblin'
The sun has set out on the trail
The hobo's drifted up the rail
He's taken his last ride
So they send him on night train South
Through the cities and the rural routes
Just one more place to go
Ah, the whistle sang the bluest note
Like it came from his own throat
Moanin' sad and cryin' low
Rollin' and ramblin'
Women loved him half to death
He sang with whiskey on his breath
His heart broke like a child's
Rollin' and ramblin'
The sun has set out on the trail
The hobo's drifted up the rail
He's taken his last ride
Rollin' and ramblin'
The sun has set out on the trail
The hobo's drifted up the rail
He's taken his last ride
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond highways and roads, we need more money for mass transit, intercity passenger rail and freight rail. We have a long way to go to bridge the funding gaps.
quote by Bill Lipinski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rollin & Ramblin
(robin williams/linda williams/jerome clark)
Folks in nashville slammed the door
Said we dont want you anymore
Find your own way down the road
Pack your fiddle and your guitar
Take a train or take a car
Find someone else to keep you from the cold
Rollin and ramblin
Women loved him half to death
He sang with whiskey on his breath
His heart broke like a childs
Rollin and ramblin
The sun has set out on the trail
The hobos drifted up the rail
Hes taken his last ride
Oh, he always sang the blues
Like it was all he ever knew
He didnt sing at all that night
He was pale and as he dozed
He didnt know his time had closed
Slumped in the back seat to the right
Rollin and ramblin
Women loved him half to death
He sang with whiskey on his breath
His heart broke like a childs
Rollin and ramblin
The sun has set out on the trail
The hobos drifted up the rail
Hes taken his last ride
So they send him on night train south
Through the cities and the rural routes
Just one more place to go
Ah, the whistle sang the bluest note
Like it came from his own throat
Moanin sad and cryin low
Rollin and ramblin
Women loved him half to death
He sang with whiskey on his breath
His heart broke like a childs
Rollin and ramblin
The sun has set out on the trail
The hobos drifted up the rail
Hes taken his last ride
Rollin and ramblin
The sun has set out on the trail
The hobos drifted up the rail
Hes taken his last ride
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Steamer
Steamer
By: john scott sherrill
1981
For the band
I remember that steamer
Time you set sail
The crowd was steamin
Streamin and leanin on the rail
Then the big whistle blew
And I lost my place
Next thing I knew
I could not find your face
I can see myself dreamin
The time you came home
Your face was beamin
Seemin to stand out alone
Dinner bell chimed
And I found my seat
And your eyes met mine
Your smile was so sweet
I remember that river
First time we made love
Oh I still kinda shiver a little
At what Im thinkin of
How your dress it just floated
All down around your knees
And I held my breath, my God my girl
cause I could not believe
(instrumental)
Most of all its that steamer
Time you set sail
Ah the crowds always steamin
Streamin and leanin on the rail
Then the big whistle blows
And I always lose my place
Next thing I know
I cannot find your face
- notes:
Vocals: jimmy buffett, deborah mccoll
Acoustic lead guitar: barry chance
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Steel Rail Blues
Well I got my mail late last night
A letter from a girl who found the time to write
To her lonesome boy somewhere in the night
She sent me a railroad ticket too
To take me to her loving arms
And the big steel rail
Gonna carry me home to the one I love
Well I been out here many a long days
I haven't found a place that I could call my own
Not a two bit bed to lay my body on
I been stood up I been shook down
I bin dragged into the sand
And the big steel rail gonna carry me home to the one I love
Well I been up tight most every night
Walking along the streets of this old town
Not a friend to tell my troubles to
My good old car she done broke down
'Cause I drove it into the ground
And the big steel rail gonna carry me home to the one I love
Well look over yonder across the plain
The big drive wheels a-pounding along the ground
Gonna get on board and I'll be homeward bound
Now I ain't had a home cooked meal
And Lord I need one now
And the big steel rail gonna carry me home to the one I love
Now here I am with my head in the sand
Standing on the broad highway will you give a ride
To a lonesome boy who missed the train last night
I went in town for one last round
And I gambled my ticket away
And the big steel rail won't carry me home to the one I love
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Steel Rail Blues
Well I got my mail late last night
A letter from a girl who found the time
To write
To her lonesome boy somewheres in the
Night
She sent me a railroad ticket too
To take me to her lovin arms
And the big steel rail gonna carry me
Home to the one I love
Well I bin out here many long days
I havent found a place that I could call
My own
Not a two bit bed to lay my body on
I bin stood up I bin shook down
I bin dragged into the sand
And the big steel rail gonna carry me
Home to the one I love
Ooooh oooo oo whu hu hoo
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ooo ooo oo
Well I bin up tight most every night
Walkin along the streets of this old town
Not a friend around to tell my troubles to
My good old car she done broke down
cause I drove it into the ground
And the big steel rail gonna carry me
Home to the one I love
Well I look over yonder across the plain
The big drive wheels are poundin along
The ground
Gonna get on board and Ill be homeward
Bound
Now I aint had a home cooked meal
And lord I need one now
And the big steel rail gonna carry me
Home to the one I love
Now here I am with my hat in hand
Standin on the broad highway will you
Give a ride
To a lonesome boy who missed the train
Last night
I went in town for one last round
And I gambled my ticket away
And the big steel rail wont carry me
Home to the one I love
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Train To The Coast
Why don't we jump the rail
ride the last train to the coast
watch the sea rise and fall
escape if only for a little while
to feel that fresh sea air again
maybe we could stay for a bit
make up a weekend perhaps
lets not make any plans
aside from boarding the last train
steel wheels powering along
to another place, away from here
it sounds so simple, maybe it is
why don't we jump the rail
rise the last train to the coast
make love on the beach
or just sit and talk about love
lets drink by a fire and toast
our future rolling out ahead of us
were on track you and me
why don't we just jump the rail
catch the last train to the coast
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Auntie and Mutt.
Auntie cut the rind
off the bacon
and offered it
to the dog
but before the dog
could put his lips to it
you made off with it
down the cast iron stairs
beside the barrack block
and the dog followed you
barking as it did so
and once you reached the ground
you went off
onto the grass
and the dog
chased you
and jumped up at you
trying to reach
the bacon rind
you held between fingers
and Auntie called over
the metal rail
let the mutt have it
don't tease him
and so you bit
the rind in half
and gave the mutt one half
and ate the other yourself
but sometimes after Auntie
put the bacon rind
in the dog's bowl
you picked it up
and tossed it
over the balcony rail
onto the ground below
and the dog raced down
the stairs after it
but now and then
you pretended
to toss it over
and after the dog
raced off
you would hold it
over the side of the rail
and called to the mutt
and said
I still got it mutt
and the dog raced back
up the stairs
and you sat there
on the metal landing
and the dog came
and licked and nuzzled you
and you gave the dog
the bacon rind
and he licked you
and wagged its tail
and Auntie called out
what are you up to?
what are you doing now?
poem by Terry Collett
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Mumbai In August
Mumbai never sleeps
But in rainy it creeps
When August sets in
For days it is resting.
Rain disrupt road, rail, air
Impossible go any where
Water logged on roads
Streets looked more broad.
Commuter’s morning start
Getting ready for the work
They packed tiffins taken
Reach nearest rail station.
Find railway track sunken
From station they return
On announcement listened
Their train is cancelled.
But it’s joy for the children
At doorstep came the ocean
Lot of water to jump and play
To make fun, swim and sway.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Moma Dance
and all throughout I gaze and glimpse you
loving never did convince you
I see you when you're all alone
it's like a person I've not known
the moment ends though I feel winds
blowing differently than ever before
and they're pushing me further from shore
a frothy cap the steady slap
of lines against the rail
a biting rain take in the main
up the rigging take in sail mind the skipper we'll not fail
he'll bring out wine all will be fine just hear the order watch the sail
the moment ends
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Each day I see the long ships coming into port
Each day I see the long ships coming into port
and the people crowding to their rail, glad of the shore:
because to have been alone with the sea and not to have known
of anything happening in any crowded way,
and to have heard no other voice than the crooning sea's
has charmed away the old rancours, and the great winds
have search'd and swept their hearts of the old irksome thoughts:
so, to their freshen'd gaze, each land smiles a good home.
Why envy I, seeing them made gay to greet the shore?
Surely I do not foolishly desire to go
hither and thither upon the earth and grow weary
with seeing many lands and peoples and the sea:
but if I might, some day, landing I reck not where
have heart to find a welcome and perchance a rest,
I would spread the sail to any wandering wind of the air
this night, when waves are hard and rain blots out the land.
poem by Christopher John Brennan
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The Moma Dance
And all throughout I gaze and glimpse you
Loving never did convince you
I see you when youre all alone
Its like a person Ive not known
The moment ends though I feel winds
Blowing differently than ever before
And theyre pushing me further from shore
A frothy cap the steady slap
Of lines against the rail
A biting rain take in the main
Up the rigging take in sail mind the skipper well not fail
Hell bring out wine all will be fine just hear the order watch the sail
The moment ends
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To You I Am Just A Voice
to you i am just a voice
there are no hands to rejoice
no lips to press
yours to mine
on such a distance
yet even if distance dissolves
and what you see is this empty glass
still your hand cannot hold it
to a mere touch
the glass breaks
i will just a voice in distance
i will still be a voice in your head in this presence
for i am a slave of air
and to the iron rail i am but a train that is passing by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Two Old Crows
Two old crows sat on a fence rail.
Two old crows sat on a fence rail,
Thinking of effect and cause,
Of weeds and flowers,
And nature's laws.
One of them muttered, one of them stuttered,
One of them stuttered, one of them muttered.
Each of them thought far more than he uttered.
One crow asked the other crow a riddle.
One crow asked the other crow a riddle:
The muttering crow
Asked the stuttering crow,
"Why does a bee have a sword to his fiddle?
Why does a bee have a sword to his fiddle?"
"Bee-cause," said the other crow,
"Bee-cause,
B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B-cause."
Just then a bee flew close to their rail: --
"Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZZZZ."
And those two black crows
Turned pale,
And away those crows did sail.
Why?
B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B-cause.
B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B-cause.
"Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZZZZ."
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Mpiani
Nail, mail, fail, sail, wail, bail, trail;
But try to wet some and dry some!
For, this tap always flow out in the dry season.
A lifestyle,
To agitate;
And, living the natural way of life.
Culture,
Tradition,
To the society,
And to forge unity with one another;
But ensure peace wherever you are!
Quail, ail, grail, rail brail, frail, pail, jail;
Pending,
Unity,
Rural,
Chieftaincy!
But, i am Mpiani in the land of your sweet muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Winter
Earth bears her sorrow gladly, like a nun,
Her young face glowing through the icy veil.
The storms that threaten her, the winds that rail,
Kindle a deeper color. She has won
Graces that please the high-enthronèd sun;
Across her soft white robes that drift and trail
He casts his lordly purples, lest she quail
With the dead year, and think that all is done.
She leadeth on through desolate sad days,
A smile upon her lips, a triumph-song
Shut in her heart. Be glad! so singeth she;
Glad of the solitude, the silent ways,—
Even of the pain; so shall thy soul grow strong
For the brave spring that comes to set us free.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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