Chasing The Train
Two young boys ran down the lane,
Playing the game of chasing the train,
As it puffed its way proudly along,
Chugging out its rhythmic song,
This was of course the age of steam,
Engines were then, an Engineers dream,
Producing such mighty pulling power,
Travelling onwards, hour after hour.
Over steel tracks, tearing up the miles,
Oh, you should have seen the happy smiles,
That emanated, seemingly with such an ease,
From enthusiasts who had tried to squeeze,
Into the carriages all swaying along,
They too just loved the rhythmic song,
And waved to the two young boys in the lane,
Playing the game of chasing the train.
This was inspired by a watercolour of two boys running alongside a steam engine travelling through the countryside parallel with a country lane. The picture was painted by Don Breckon '77.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Playing With The Boys
Id say it was the right time
To walk away
When dreaming takes you nowhere
Its time to play
Bodies working overtime
Your money dont matter
The clock keeps ticking
When someones on your mind
Im moving in slow motion
Feels so good
Its a strange anticipation
Knock, knock, knocking on wood
Bodies working overtime
Man against man
And all that ever matters
Is baby whos ahead in the game
Funny but its always the same
Playing, playing with the boys
Playing, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
Is playing with the boys
Said it was the wrong thing
For me to do
I said its just a boys game
Girls play too
My heart is working overtime
In this kind of game
People get hurt
Im afraid that someone is me
If you want to find me, Ill be
Playing, playing with the boys
Staying, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
I dont want to be the moth around your fire
I dont want to be obsessed by my desire
Im ready, Im leaving
Ive seen enough
...with the boys
Ive seen enough
You play too rough
Playing, playing with the boys
Ill be staying, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
Is playing with the boys
Playing with the boys
Playing
Playing
Playing
Playing
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trvelling down the memory lane
Travelling down the memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Travelling down the memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Travelling down the memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Travelling down the memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Travelling down the memory lane
is college, fun and friend.
Travelling down the memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Travelling down the memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Travelling down the memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
Poet: Spandan Bhattacharyya
poem by Spandan Bhattacharyya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Janice and You at Waterloo Station
At Waterloo Station
the steam engines
puffed powerful steam
reaching up
to the rooftop
and you stood there
hands in your pockets
your nose sniffing in
the white and grey smell
you can taste it
on your tongue
and Janice beside you
her eyes looked up
at the rooftop
as the steam
reached high
her hands clutching
the small bag
I want to be a train driver
when I'm older
you said
I want to smell
that smell
and breathe in
that steam and shovel
coal in the engine
maybe you will
Janice said
maybe you'll be
on a train like that
big and black
and powerful
she put her hand
under your arm
and squeezed
Gran said we can be
what we want
if we want it
bad enough
Janice added
you felt her hand
under your arm
sensed her squeeze it
we went to the seaside
on a big black train
like this last year
you said
and I put my head
out the train window
and my mum said
keep your head in
or a train
will knock it off
that'd be horrible
Janice said
she clutched
closer to you
as the steam train
puffed out more steam
and the sound was loud
and powerful
and she said
maybe
when you're an engine driver
you can take me
to the seaside
with Gran
yes
you said
and if you come
to the engine
before you take off
I can show you
the engine
and how powerful it is
and she smiled
and put her head
on your shoulder
yes
you said softly
when I grow up
and when I am older.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Steam Dreams
In this day of electric and diesel, very rarely is seen,
A shining locomotive, which is powered by steam.
Back in the days, when my parents were born,
The sight of a steam train was quite the norm.
Whenever a steam train catches my eye,
I stand, watching in awe, as it passes by.
‘Oh wow! Look! ’ I say, as I point a finger,
And the memory of it in my mind will linger.
Steam trains will never completely die out,
As, thankfully, there’s still quite a few about.
About a steam train, there’s something really quite dramatic.
And at the chance of riding on one, people are often ecstatic.
I remember seeing The Flying Scotsman at Salisbury station,
And I stood there marvelling at it with such great admiration.
The engine and all of its carriages just looked so smart.
The sight of such a train, never fails to quicken the heart.
Steam trains are so very elegant in their style.
To spot one, enthusiasts will travel many a mile.
It strange to think that years ago, they were all the rage,
When, they are such a very rare sight, in this day and age.
The sight of the world famous Orient Express,
Is one which will never ever fail to impress.
Through the windows, you can see the plush seats,
Where excited passengers will sit down and eat.
On board, the historic carriages of brown and cream,
They serve expensive champagne and gourmet cuisine.
Sat in a world of pure indulgence, passengers glide,
Through the green and pleasant British countryside.
The carriages have all been restored to their former glory;
If they could talk, I’m sure they could all share quite a story.
The carriages have been described as ‘palaces on wheels’,
And I would really love to know just how that feels.
Still being a very rare sight in these modern times,
I fancy taking a trip on a steam train, to sit and dine.
I guess you would have to pay quite a princely sum,
But I think it would be worth it, just to travel on one.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Steam Engine
Lead vocal: micky dolenz
Produced by: chip douglas
Mr. engineer, slow the engine down some more.
Youre movin just a little too fast,
Ive got my foot down clear to the floor.
Steam engine, engine 99
Steam drivers, rollin right on by.
Mr. engineer, you see Ive got a little problem here.
My baby, shes aboard your train,
She says shes never comin back again.
Steam engine, engine 99
Steam drivers, rollin right on by.
She told me good bye, she said Im leavin you behind.
I think Im gonna die, if I hear that whistle whine.
Mr. engineer, slow the engine down some more.
Youre movin movin just a little too fast,
Ive got my foot down clear to the floor.
Steam engine, engine 99
Steam drivers, rollin right on by.
(steam engines)gotta keep on keep on rollin.
(steam engines)shes gonna leave me behind.
(steam engines)i might as well go home.
(steam engines)shes gonna leave me behind.
(steam engines)i might as well go home.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Know What Boys Like
Boys, boys
He you wanna know something?
Boys, boys
Boys like girls
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I seem them looking (looking)
I make them want me
I like to tease them
And they want to touch me
I never let them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like me
I got my cat moves
That so upsets them
Zippers and buttons
Fun to frustrate them
They get so angry
Like pouty children
Denied their candy
I laugh right at them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I think you're special
I might let you
You're so much different
I might let you
There's no one like you
I might let you
Or would you like that?
I might let you
Sucker!
Boys, b-b-boys
Boys, b-b-b-boys
G-g-g-g-got what boys want
G-g-g-got
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
Yeah, I know what boys like
Come on girls, you know what they like
It ain't no secret
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
song performed by by Vitamin C
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The 6.15 from Paddington - Steam Days
The 6.15 from Paddinton goes chugging down the track,
The Guard blows on his whistle, and the engine whistles back.
The carriages are following, swaying as they go,
The passengers are also swaying to and fro.
Through Maidenhead, Reading and Newbury in Berks,
The monster travels onwards, with steam, grey smoke and sparks.
Past Swindon down in Wiltshire and then Chipping Sodbury,
Through tunnels, over bridges, always in a 'big' hurry.
The countryside goes whooshing by, as we travel on,
With fields, lanes and cottages, one moment seen, then gone.
Villages, farms and valleys, tree clad hills and downs,
Flashing past the windows, with 'swishy swooshy' sounds.
It now approaches Bristol, the driver applies the brakes,
With screeching and with creaking, what a hullabaloo it makes.
It's reached it's destination where the Porter and the Clerk,
Will check on all the passengers, before they disembark.
The loud station announcer declares she's the next train out,
The fireman stokes the boiler, and the green flag's waved about.
The train is off and whistles, as it thunders out of view,
The trails of smoke are lifting and the sun is breaking through.
The 6.15 from Paddington is now on her way to Wales,
To Cardiff and to Swansea, for the shops and summer sales.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lover's Lane
Summah night an' sighin' breeze,
'Long de lovah's lane;
Frien'ly, shadder-mekin' trees,
'Long de lovah's lane.
White folks' wo'k all done up gran'--
Me an' 'Mandy han'-in-han'
Struttin' lak we owned de lan',
'Long de lovah's lane.
Owl a-settin' 'side de road,
'Long de lovah's lane,
Lookin' at us lak he knowed
Dis uz lovah's lane.
Go on, hoot yo' mou'nful tune,
You ain' nevah loved in June,
An' come hidin' f'om de moon
Down in lovah's lane.
Bush it ben' an' nod an' sway,
Down in lovah's lane,
Try'n' to hyeah me whut I say
'Long de lovah's lane.
But I whispahs low lak dis,
An' my 'Mandy smile huh bliss--
Mistah Bush he shek his fis',
Down in lovah's lane.
Whut I keer ef day is long,
Down in lovah's lane.
I kin allus sing a song
'Long de lovah's lane.
An' de wo'ds I hyeah an' say
Meks up fu' de weary day
Wen I's strollin' by de way,
Down in lovah's lane.
An' dis t'ought will allus rise
Down in lovah's lane;
Wondah whethah in de skies
Dey 's a lovah's lane.
Ef dey ain't, I tell you true,
'Ligion do look mighty blue,
'Cause I do' know whut I 'd do
'Dout a lovah's lane.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We All Went To Dorset Steam Fair
We all went to Dorset steam fair
In the year 2001.
The 33rd year of this wonderful fair,
And we loved it all and one.
The atmosphere and the energy
The smell and the feel and the noise.
The feeling of oneness and synergy.
All of us felt it, ourselves and our boys.
Seven of us went to the steam fair,
To participate, laugh and play.
Many things we saw there,
Although we went just for the day.
The fair for all of our boys was the best.
Something for one and all.
A very important fact, (I don't jest) ,
For our boys ranged from tall to so small.
Army trucks and steamers.
Engines of all size and type.
Vintage cars sporting streamers,
And motorbikes there for the hype.
Gypsy vans I remember so swell,
For I'm sure I have been here before.
Though not in this time, I remember it well.
I know I have walked 'through this door'.
The thing I shall always recall,
Though I live ‘til I'm two score and three,
Was the wonderful feeling felt by us all.
That of complete unity.
Though each and everyone of us
Was there for their very own trip.
Whether travelling by cycle, by car, or by bus,
We all came together without e'er a slip.
You may feel quite puzzled
At this ditty I write.
You may ponder and wonder
If all is quite right.
My perspective you see, may be different, quite odd.
But my friends, after all, I am but a dog!
poem by Rosi Caswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Train Running Low On Soul Coal
Me train running low on soul coal
They push+pull tactics are driving me loco
They shouldnt do that no no no
They shouldnt do that
Me train running low on dream steam
They pull me whistle too hard me bound to scream
And they shouldnt do that no no no
They shouldnt do that
Think Im going south for the winter
Think Im going mad in this hinterland
Between young and old
Im a thirty year old puppy doing what Im told
And Im told theres no more coal
For the older engines
Me train running low on soul coal
Think Im going south for the winter
Think Im going west and my sprinters speed
Is reduced to a crawl
My rails went straight, but straight into the wall
Its the wall on which they dash the older engines
And all my servants are leaving
Imagination gone packing
Cant find the wound from where Im bleeding
Hes just a nut and hes cracking
Hammer goes down
Brakes all scream
Me and a couple of empty carriages
Slide down hill still
Next stop bad dreamsville
Think Im going south for the winter
Me train running low on soul coal.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Train Running Low On Soul Coal
Me train running low on soul coal
They push+pull tactics are driving me loco
They shouldnt do that no no no
They shouldnt do that
Me train running low on dream steam
They pull me whistle too hard me bound to scream
And they shouldnt do that no no no
They shouldnt do that
Think Im going south for the winter
Think Im going mad in this hinterland
Between young and old
Im a thirty year old puppy doing what Im told
And Im told theres no more coal
For the older engines
Me train running low on soul coal
Think Im going south for the winter
Think Im going west and my sprinters speed
Is reduced to a crawl
My rails went straight, but straight into the wall
Its the wall on which they dash the older engines
And all my servants are leaving
Imagination gone packing
Cant find the wound from where Im bleeding
Hes just a nut and hes cracking
Hammer goes down
Brakes all scream
Me and a couple of empty carriages
Slide down hill still
Next stop bad dreamsville
Think Im going south for the winter
Me train running low on soul coal.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Playing on the Playground
Everyone plays in groups,
They run across the playground.
Playing football or soccer and,
Maybe even basketball.
Girls running around chasing boys
And here's me playing soccer or me,
playing alone. Maybe always alone.
poem by Sengthida Lorvan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Legend
THERE is an hour, they say,
On which your dream has power:
Then all you wish for comes,
As comes the lost field-bird
Down to the island-lights;
There is an hour, they say,
That's woven with your wish:
In dawn, or dayli’ gone,
In mirk-dark, or at noon,
In hush or hum of day,
May be that secret hour.
A herd-boy in the rain
Who looked o'er stony fields;
A young man in a street,
When fife and drum went by,
Making the sunlight shrill;
A girl in a lane,
When the long June twilight
Made friendly far-off things,
Had watch upon the hour:
The dooms they met are in
The song my grand-dam sings.
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tenacious baby boys
Tenacious baby boys
Clenching and unclenching their fists
A rehearsal for the fight of warriors to be
The radiance of baby boys drooling warm milk
The bedazzlement of baby boys bold in their skin
Baby boys of the tom-tom
Baby boys of the silent drums
Baby boys taking the giant steps of first walk
First word of their throats holy full of hallelujah
Boys benevolent and young playing with their snares
In Africa and on the reservation
Baby boys who shall become executioners of the young
When watching someone die is routine in black neighborhoods
Baby boys of the wounded heart without fathers
Baby boys marvelous in their redness and blackness
Fraternal sons of empire builders
Baby boys sabotage by their lost fathers
Locked in the lower-class jails of their despair.
Baby boys of the slums that raise them
And shall come to betray them by a warm gun.
poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brogan's Lane
There's a crack in the city—down that sharp street
In couples, and armed, tramp rozzers on beat.
Like a joss, silhouetted across the pane,
A Chinese face watches down Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
A reeling moon blinks over Brogan’s Lane.
Flash Fred, when he dives on a red lot, sneaks thro’
To moscow the swag with a Polaky Jew.
Tho’ rooked by old Shylock, he needn’t complain,
The melting pot bubbles in Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
Rats pinch from their cobbers down Brogan’s Lane.
And Jenny, fresh down from the country, goes gay
And drives to the races and laughs at the play;
Till one morn, lying out in the cold and the rain,
A body is perished in Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
There’s only one turn to the long last lane.
With opium dens, sly cribs, bones and rags,
’Tis the haunt of thieves, wastrels, poor women and vags.
They booze to bring joy, they sin to numb pain,
But there’ll come a stretch at the end of the lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
The river and morgue shadow Brogan’s Lane.
poem by Louis Esson
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Vibes Man
Vibes man in the alley, play me your spitball serenade,
And a deeper blue and youll be playing in your grave.
Save your notes, spend them on your blues, boy.
Help your darlin yearlin blues, boy.
Hit the church note, ring it!
Vibes man sing the trashcan hear your junkman singing.
Fish lady, dont you bait those tenement walls.
Dont take corner boys because theyre too easy.
You were born black and blue,
You didnt have to wait for somebody to hit you.
Take my arm, Ill move with you down broadway.
Take my arm, oh honey, Ill walk with you down broadway.
Im the young man and Ill be proud,
And I can talk real loud.
And Im from out of town, too.
Wont you come home with me.
Wont you come home with me.
But no, cause she wont take a train,
Oh, she wont take that train.
Oh, she wont take a train.
Oh, she wont take that train.
She wont take a train.
Oh, she wont take that train.
Oh, she wont take a train.
Oh, she wont take that train.
You wont take the train.
She wont take the train.
Cause shes afraid those tracks are gonna slow her down.
And when she turns around,
Im gonna be gone like the ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let It Rock
Well up in the evening down in Mobile, Alabama
Working on the railroad with the steel driving hammer
Gotta make some money to buy some brand new shoes
Trying to find somebody to take away these blues
"She don't love me" hear them singing in the sun
Payday's coming and my work is all done
Later in the evening when the sun is sinking low
All day I been waiting for the whistle to blow
Sitting in a tepee built right on the tracks
Rolling them bones until the foreman comes back
Pick up you belongings boys and scatter about
We've got an off-schedule train comin two miles about
Everybody's trembling and running around
Picking up their money, tearing the tepee down
Foreman wants a penny (?) about to go insane
Trying to get the workers out the way of the train
Engineer blowing the whistle loud and long
Can't stop the train, gotta let it roll on
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Train
Writers: leo sayer & david courtney
Running through my life
Like a river, like a song
Train keeps pushing me
Right back to the place where I belong...
Back along the tracks
Fly a million years
Right across my path
Train moves on ringing in my ears...
Come on board
Come on board
Train, oh train, take me back, again
I remember, I remember, take me back
Train, oh train, the journey ends and starts again
I remember, I remember, I remember
Ive been up all night trying to get this down
Now Im hallucinating
Staring at the wall look what Im creating...
Look at the clock Im twelve hours old
So many more remain
Way up ahead I know I see a train...
Come on board
Come on board
Train, oh train, all those memories, all over again
I remember, I remember, take me back
Train, oh train, the journey ends and starts again
I remember, I remember, I remember
Waited on the station all day
Just to see a glimpse of the morning train
Just to see the wheels turning round
Blowing up steam,
See what I mean,
You see what I mean...
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down Boys
Certain things you do Really make me mad I must confess
The way the streetlight silhouttes your thighs inside your dress
Wild child in the streets I think I see you But I really don't know, WHO KNOWS
Goin' a million miles an hour Headed out to where the down boys go
PRECHORUS:
Woah Can we rewind to where we've been
Ooh I wish you'd take a look and see the shape I'm in
CHORUS:
Where the down boys go GO Where the down boys go GO
Where the down boys go I wanna go where
the down boys go
Baby You comb your hair Put on your shades You look so cool
Gimme the run-around Make me feel like a fool
You got a lot of nerve to call me cheap Even though it's true
I don't care where we go tonight Just take me along with you
PRECHORUS:
CHORUS:
Certain things you do Really make me mad I must confess
The way the streetlight silhouttes Your thighs inside your dress
PRECHORUS:
Where the down boys go GO Where the down boys go GO
Where the down boys go
I wanna go where the down boys go Yeah
Where the down boys go Where the down boys go
Where the down boys go Where they go---
song performed by by Warrant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Log Train
Hank williams sr.
(d) if you will listen a (g) song I will (d) sing
About my daddy who ran a log (a) train
Way (d) down in the southland in (g) old ala- (d) bam
We lived in a place that they (a) call chatmantown.
And late in the evening when the sun was low
Way off in the distance you could hear the train blow
The boys would come runnin and mamma would sing,
Get the supper on the table here comes the log train.
Every morning at the break of day
Hed grab his lunch bucket and be on his way
In winter or summer, sunshine or rain
Every mornin hed run that old log train.
A sweatin and swearin all day long
Shoutin git-up there oxen, keep movin along,
Load er up boys cause it looks like rain,
Ive got get rollin this old log train.
This story happened a long time ago
The log train is silent, God called daddy to go
But when I get to heaven to always remain
Ill listen for the whistle of the old log train.
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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