The homebound night train whistles
There he goes home carrying holey bags full of hopes
After the eternal struggle.
Though it's an express train the kind Engine driver stops at every station as he doesn't want to leave the passengers in the darkness.
But some they do not encourage the delay.
Through the dim lights in the compartment he recognizes his friends.
Some with gray beards and walking sticks.
He secretly looks at the window pane through his thick glasses
And realizes that he too become old gradually.
He deeply think of his family
Already they must have come to the village ruined station and wait at the platform eagerly.
It seemed to be a re-union but he has to come back on the same train some other day to fight with the decaying life again.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
Meet Me At The Station
(brother williams memphis sanctified singers)
Well if I get to heaven before you do
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, mother dear, for you
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
Father, when the train comes along
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Well if my eyes see the glory, before yours do
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, father, for you
I will meet you at the station whe your train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train comes along
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Now if my feet touch the homeline before yours do
I will meet you at the station when the train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, my brother, for you
I will meet you at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Now if you see gods country before I do
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
Will you be there watching, sister, for me
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
When my train
When my train
Meet me at the station when my train comes along
When my train
Sister, when my train comes along
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when my train comes along
When the train
Oh, when the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Joy on the Trains at Jubilee Time
At the station, the platform is packed.
Soon our train is heading down the track.
As our London-bound train slowly approaches,
I am surprised by the evident lack of coaches.
The ensuing rush to get on, is all rather manic.
The Guard blows his whistle and everyone panics.
Upon the platform, there's soon no one left,
But many new passengers are out of breath.
Once onboard, there is standing room only:
There's certainly no chance of being lonely.
Of vacant seats, I see there is a major lack,
So I stand, holding on to the luggage rack.
Some people are huddled up by the doors,
Whilst others plump for a seat on the floor.
At the next station, they don't release all the doors:
Our already packed train can only take a few more.
By the time that our train reaches Woking,
It's a real nightmare - I wish I was joking,
But passengers are left abandoned on the platform:
Their faces disappointed, they all look so forlorn.
I overhear a number of passengers complain
About the distinct lack of carriages on our train.
During my journey, I spend most of my time
Thinking up sentences which, nicely, rhyme.
By the time our train pulls in to Waterloo,
With my new poem, I am almost through.
We're ten minutes late and the Guard explains
This was due to passengers boarding the train.
When I head home again, it is getting quite late.
And the number of carriages now totals eight.
No one is standing: everybody has a seat.
I travel home in comfort. Oh, what a treat!
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Train To Heaven
(4/10/12)
It was a long wait - but soon they would
Be at that gate.
The train that would take him to heaven
To join all his family and friends
Where a new life would begin and never end.
A life where there is nothing but beauty and peace
And the heart would find relief.
The conductor showing you everything in your past life
Some bad - a lot nice.
Of people you touched along the way
And of things they had to say.
everybody when they pass away
Boards this train on a given day.
This train makes three stops
As strange as it may seem
Heaven, hell, and purgatory
"Sounds like a familiar story"!
Purgatory being the place of things
In your past life - you must face.
But you are on the "7th ave. express."
Cause you passed all the tests.
You had a heart which was pure as gold
And all the angels have been told.
All these other passengers that are on this train with you
Have gone through the same things too.
All of you had came to this "times square station"
Because you had found your salvation.
They gathered together like fallen needles from a pine tree
Multitudes of souls that were finally free.
At the gate you will be greeted by SAINT PETER
Who will show you the way to all your family and friends
And this joy will never end.
poem by Louis Rams
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The New Year Train
We're waiting at the platform in the New Railway Station
There the train comes and no destination?
And the banner shows it's a Youth Train!
I checked our tattered season-tickets
Old age's there and faded.
I was so sad when she asked;
'Darling, we could hide in the Goods compartment.'
*I turn but do not extricate myself, Confused, a past-reading, another but with darkness yet.-Walt Whitman
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Photograph
She sat on the platform bench
waiting for a train to arrive.
Waiting to see her brother
who left to start a new life
twenty-five years ago.
She brought a photograph of herself
for him to have when he went back home.
Stillness engulfed the station
as she waited alone there.
The hiss of an old steam train
filled the quiet air
as along the track it came
like a dinosaur from the past
and stopped at the station.
A group of young soldiers
disembarked to stretch their legs
and grab some fresh air.
One young soldier approached her.
He was sixteen if he was a day.
He smiled as he sat beside her.
“You’re a pretty lady.” He said.
“Thank you.” She replied. “Off to fight some battles? ”
“Yes, but I am not really sure where.
They say a lot of us might not be coming back”
“That is sad.” She replied.
“Especially when you have no one
to think of you.”
“You see I am an orphan
and have no family or a girlfriend come to that.
No one to think of me
when the great battles come.”
“Now that is sad, ” She said looking at him.
Then she realized the photograph
for her brother was in her handbag.
She reached in and removed it.
“Take this and think of me
when your great battles come.”
“I will keep it with me always.
Now I must get back on the train.”
As the train whistle blew.
He waved goodbye as the steam engulfed him.
Then the train was gone
as quickly as it had come.
The stillness that had engulfed the station
now dissipated to.
Suddenly there was noise everywhere.
She looked around
as if waking from a dream.
She looked back down the tracks.
The mournful hoot of the electric horn
herald the arriving electric train.
She watched it intensely
as it slowed to stop at the station.
Two passengers alighted,
a man and a woman.
Her brother and his wife.
She greeted them with a smile,
but her brother’s wife looked at her in shock
as if she had seen a ghost.
They hugged one another,
and then left the station
to go to her home.
Arriving at her home
her sister-in-law looked at her again.
“Sorry if I look mystified when I look at you.
I have something I must tell you.
My grandfather before he died
asked me to find any relatives
to a lady in a photograph.
It was given to him
when he was leaving to go to war
over seventy years ago.
He carried it with him everywhere he went.
He said the photograph protected him
like a good luck charm.
He swore one day to return it,
but events made that impossible.
He immigrated when the war was over
and never got the chance.
He wanted to let her family know
of the kind deed she did”
“But that does not explain
the way you looked at me.”
She removed the photograph
and handed it to her.
It was the photograph
she had given the young soldier
only hours before.
9 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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Mystery Train
(herman parker/sam phillips)
Train arrive 16 coaches long
Train arrive 16 coaches long
Well that long black train
Took my baby back home
Train train rolling round the bend
Train train rolling round the bend
Well it took my baby
Away from me again
Went down to the station
To meet my baby at the gate
Ask the station master
If her train is running late
He said no if your wait
On that old 44
I hate to tell you son
But that train dont stop her anymore
Train train rolling round the bend
Train train rolling round the bend
Well it took my baby
Away from me again
Heard that whistle blowing
It was the middle of the night
When I got down to the station
The train was rolling out of site
Mystery train rolling round the bend
Mystery train rolling round the bend
Well it took my baby
Away from me again
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Train To Clarkesville
Take the last train to Clarksville,
And I'll meet you at the station.
You can be be there by four thirty,
'Cause I made your reservation.
Don't be slow, oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
'Cause I'm leavin' in the morning
And I must see you again
We'll have one more night together
'Til the morning brings my train.
And I must go, oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
And I don't know if I'm ever coming home.
Take the last train to Clarksville.
I'll be waiting at the station.
We'll have time for coffee flavored kisses
And a bit of conversation.
Oh... Oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
Take the last train to Clarksville,
Now I must hang up the phone.
I can't hear you in this noisy
Railroad station all alone.
I'm feelin' low. Oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
And I don't know if I'm ever coming home.
Take the last train to Clarksville,
Take the last train to Clarksville,
[repeat and fade
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trouble On The Trains
Many of us often have to travel by train,
But the delays and overcrowding drive us insane.
The announcement at the station, informs of delays due to leaf fall,
But the computerized voice used, doesn’t sound very sorry at all.
Your train is now running well over twenty minutes late,
But, annoyingly, you have no choice, but to stand and wait.
At the watch on your wrist, you constantly look,
While some others immerse themselves in a book.
Then there are times when we have the wrong kind of snow,
Which means all of the trains are on a complete go-slow.
Stood on the crowded platform, you look down the track,
But, of a train approaching, unfortunately there’s a big lack.
The train slowly pulls in to the station – it’s finally here,
And from the waiting passengers, up goes a big cheer.
More often than not, there isn’t a spare seat,
So you spend your entire journey stood on your feet.
You stand tightly packed together like a tin of sardines,
Along with a large group of loud, gobby, young teens.
You feel awkward with their public displays of affection,
And quickly avert your eyes in the opposite direction.
At the next station, passenger wise, getting on, are even more,
So now you’re squashed together twice as tightly as before.
Inside the train, it’s getting really hot and stuffy.
Inside you, you’re feeling claustrophobic and puffy.
There are very similar scenes up and down the entire nation,
And you’re overjoyed when you finally reach your destination.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Train Long Gone
(Gone!) Well, I hate how that word
Rattles all around in this room
(Alone,) with a memory so strong
I could sweep it up with a broom.
(Tears,) if I shed anymore I'm afraid
They might wear out my face
(Clear,) Yes, It's clear to me now
That her love can never be replaced.
Love may be gone but never forgotten
The memory won't leave you alone
And the train may be long gone from the station
But you still hear the whistle moan.
Still hear the whistle moan.
--- Instrumental ---
(Time,) time got so slow and thick
That the clock hardly ticks anymore
(Crime,) it's a crime how I sit here
And stare like a dog at the door.
(Blame,) Aw yes, I'll take the blame
I admit I did not treat her right
(Shame,) It's a shame laying here
All alone on this cold, windy night.
Love may be gone but never forgotten
The memory won't leave you alone
And the train may be long gone from the station
But you still hear the whistle moan.
Still hear the whistle moan.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train gone, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train gone, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train gone, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh.
Love may be gone but never forgotten
The memory won't leave you alone
And the train may be long gone from the station
But you can still hear the whistle moan.
Still hear the whistle moan.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train gone, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train gone, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train, long gone train...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Welcome my Grandchild
I got up that morning
with a beaming smile
for I could see my grandchild
jumping down from the Brindavan Express
at twenty five minutes past eight.
I was busy on that day
buying biscuits, chocolates, cherries and fried nuts
as she could have now a little firm teeth.
Toys, pipes, electronic cars
I bought in the evening.
My wife had been decorating the house
for a week as our kiddie was coming.
At Six I was at the Central Station,
exhausting reading of all the eveningers.
When there was half-an-hour
for the train to roll in with a satiating smile,
I went out to buy a pair of ‘idlies’,
for our little queen would be very hungry
after a travel of fifteen hours.
I ran back into the station
and gazed at the glimmering electronic board.
My God, the train had arrived!
I ploughed through the crowd
with a bird’s eye to view our little mother.
But I failed to see her carrying a small bag
to ease my daughter on the platform.
I rushed home to see her
as a man running after fortune.
When my two-wheeler entered my house,
my grandchild came out yelling, “ Thatha (Grandpa) ’.
The bad train had come five minutes earlier
to prevent me from hauling her up at the station..
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cross-tie Walker
I went down to the station, just to take a ride.
I went down to the station, just to take a ride.
Found myself on a flatcar, yesterday behind.
Pullin out from the platform, there was no brass band.
I pulled out from the platform, nobody raised a hand.
And there were no tears of regret from my runaway train.
Train, train, train, train.
Got no sand in my pocket, you know I aint tied down.
Aint no sand in my pocket, never do sit down.
Im just a cross-tie walker, where the freight trains run.
Run, run, run, run.
If you see me acomin, dont you waste my time.
If you see me acomin, dont you waste my time.
cause theres more miles between us than the santa fe line.
Run, run, run, run.
Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm....
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Train To Clarksville
Words and music by
Tommy boyce and bobby hart
Take the last train to clarksville,
And Ill meet you at the station.
You can be be there by four thirty,
cause I made your reservation.
Dont be slow, oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
cause Im leavin in the morning
And I must see you again
Well have one more night together
til the morning brings my train.
And I must go, oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
And I dont know if Im ever coming home.
Take the last train to clarksville.
Ill be waiting at the station.
Well have time for coffee flavored kisses
And a bit of conversation.
Oh... oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
Take the last train to clarksville,
Now I must hang up the phone.
I cant hear you in this noisy
Railroad station all alone.
Im feelin low. oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
And I dont know if Im ever coming home.
Take the last train to clarksville,
Take the last train to clarksville,
[repeat and fade]
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Love In Vain
(Robert Johnson)
I followed her to the station with a suitcase in my hand
And I followed her to the station with a suitcase in my hand
Well it's hard to tell it's hard to tell, when all your love's in vain
All my love's in vain
When the train rolled up to the station, I looked her in the eye
When the train rolled up to the station, and I looked her in the eye
Well I was lonesome I felt so lonesome, and I could not help but cry
All my love's in vain
When the train it left the station, 't was two lights on behind
When the train it left the station, 't was two lights on behind
Well the blue light was my blues and the red light was my mind
All my love's in vain
Ooh... [vocalized verse]
All my love's in vain
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Right Track Wrong Train
The train was leaving at 10 after 10
I got to the station just in time to check in
Ive been bumpin my bags all around
Im trying hard to never knock people down
But I can see I left a few on the ground
And as the train pulls away I can hear the conductor say
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Im not to blame (echo)
Right track wrong train... train
I read my schedule but my train wasnt there
I re-read my ticket, it said going nowhere
Everybody had the same tatooed face
All the women and men dressed in lace
I think I gotta get out of this place
I shouldve got off before the engineer locked the door
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Im not to blame (echo)
Right track wrong train, train train train hey !
Hey thats a neat tatoo youre wearing. by the way whered you get it ?
Uh huh. say, is this an express train ? uh huh.
Snack bar ? uh huh. uh huh.
Something is happening so familiar to me
Is this the outer limits like on tv ?
Another empty town fading to gray
Another coca-cola sign on the way
Have a cup of coffee, have a nice day
And as the train pushes on,
Were headed for babylon
Oh no...
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Right track wrong train...
On the wrong train on the right track
We dont know if shell ever come back
(talking) what train is this ?
Something is happening so familiar to me
Is this the outer limits like on tv ?
Have a cup of coffee, have a nice day (talking)
Yeah, yeah Ill be right there yeah. Im gonna get the next train yeah.
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Frinton-on-Sea by Train - The Annual Pilgrimage,1910
When in the large compartment,
Everyone was seated.
And all the luggage loaded,
The family group completed.
Excitement as the train now
Leaves the local station.
Everyone perceiving
A feeling of elation.
The Servants in the Third Class
All with faces radiant,
The train now fairly straining
Up it's first steep gradient.
Smoke rising from the engine,
Through the countryside it races,
Such a rattling and a clattering,
Rhythmic chugging as it paces.
Nurse is quietly rocking baby,
Mother dozing, Father reading.
Children gazing through the window,
Trees and streams seem to be speeding.
Realisation, train is stopping,
Doors are opening, whistles blare,
All alighting from the carriage,
Platforms busy. Great sea air!
Call the porter for the luggage,
What! No luggage, this can't be,
'Did you tip the porter Father? '
Mother calls out nervously.
Father fuming calls the Driver,
Calls ths Station Master too,
Sorry Sir, it's not our doing
We will send it on to you.
Father marching to the taxi,
Mother fretting following along,
Nurse with baby shrieking loudly
Children calling, 'What is wrong? '.
Father should have tipped the porter,
Much more than a farthing's worth,
So he didn't load the luggage,
In the 'First Class' luggage berth.
It arrived early next morning,
By the first train down the track,
So as to the moral of this story,
If you're too mean, watch out Jack!
© Ernestine Northover
This poem was written from a story handed down through the family, and the 'Father' was my husband's Great Grandfather, and it is absolutely true, he was a very mean man. A Farthing being the lowest coinage of that time. We have photos of them all sitting on the sand, in full dress with the ladies in huge feathered hats. A wonderful sight! ! ! !
poem by Ernestine Northover
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How Long Must I Wait For You
You told me you would me at the station gate
For our honeymoon excursion
You told me you would me at the station gate
But I got a different version
Train number one is gone
Train number two is gone
Train number three is been gone
How long must I wait for you?
Train number four is gone
Train number five is gone
Train number six is been gone
How long must I wait for you?
I got my tickets and a reservation set for two
Luggage waiting on the track
But I got no use for reservations without you
I got to give the tickets back
Cause train number one is back
Train number two is back
Train number three is been back
How long must I wait for you?
You told me you would me at the station gate
For our honeymoon excursion
You told me you would me at the station gate
But I got a different version
Train number one is gone
Train number two is gone
Train number three is been gone
How long must I wait for you?
Train number four is gone
Train number five is gone
Train number six is been gone
How long must I wait for you?
I got the tickets and a reservation set for two
Luggage waiting on the track
But I got no use for reservations without you
I got to give the tickets back
Cause train number one is back
Train number two is back
Train number three is been back
How long must I wait for you?
How long, baby
How long, baby
How long, how long . . .
How long must I wait for you?
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Station Man
Written by danny kirwan, john mcvie, and jeremy spencer.
Station man
Ive been waiting
Can you tell me
When were leaving
Midnight train
Now is leaving
Engine screaming
Ah, ah
Ah, ah
Ah, ah
Ah, ah
Where Im going I dont know
But you tell me I must go
When were leaving I dont know
But you tell me now
I see its coming
And bringing something
This train of lovin
I see its comin
I feel its runnin
This train of lovin
From ages past
Station man
Ive been waiting
Can you tell me
When were leaving
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Walking Foot Pen, The Spreading Legs Of Paper
and why should the pen keep walking
and the paper keep expanding? why should they
all become human, soft and fragile,
and too accommodating for all these
restlessness of the spirit?
they are our friends, all these poems
they are our circle of acquaintances
passengers all, waiting on the train station
for another transport,
to where? that is the surprise
today.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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So Little Love In The World
One rainy afternoon at Union Station
As I sat alone and waited on my train
I overheard a lovers conversation
Laced with desperation and pain.
I heard a girl say when is your train leavin
The schedules blurry, somethings in my eyes
I heard a boy say Ill just board it early
With a voice some lone drown out goodbye.
I thought theres so little love in the world
Theres so little love in the world
With all of those millions of lonely boys and girls
Why is there so little love in the world.
I saw them walk together thro the station
I saw the girl walk back alone her head held down
Her tremblin lips the only indication
Of her losin struggle not to cry...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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