Carousels Before The War
In the silence of the station and its insatiable yearning
To be filled with tourists and passengers
And bludgeon obliviously to the familiar feeling
Roused by scent and warmth of their far-flung home,
Another tourist loitered juxtaposed the ticket booth
Careening over the burning rails of nostalgia
Because the calendar pages holds a succinct
Concern for the macabre in inertia
Her coruscating soul was plummeting from her lips
Waiting for the sleeping train to stir and growl
This tourist stared at me unwaveringly
With the tackling of her foreign eyes, rolled the dice
Like a steely glacial wheel chafing with the rails
And I could have feigned a fuming act
But I knew very well who this tourist was
She lives in my sala, behind the crumbling wallpapers
I stared back into the voids of oblivion
And in her skyscraping eyes, I saw thoroughly
The war before the sunrise slithering
In the reflection of a gaunt and baffled man
I kept my luggage beside my prattling legs
Gorged choking with uniforms, a diary, and rue
The death is casted before the war had started
So I could never have heeded any less
And the blaring ominous noise of peril
In the colorless haze of the half-empty half-full station
Commandeers the scarce facial muscles
To feign a facile smile for a cordial departure
Before the struggle for subsistence
In a torpor war with the flustered brooding soldiers
The radio sent forth a cringing wave of dread
Drifting a jingle subdued by the pensive noise
Of wives and kids and colleagues and ghosts
The melody beckoned me to ride a carousel
And the station was a theme park where
The idea of heaven deems to be unavailable
But I let the carousing carousels go on and on
And stash its melody in a hidden place
Where it would fade but never go wrong
And the carousals and the carousels live on.
poem by Norman Santos
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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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Exit strategy
Exit strategy
~
Lets empty the bank account
and walk to the station
board the first train we see
ride off into nowhere
where rails of mystery beckon
journey becomes adventure
wherever we end up
we could board another train
and ride further rails
or find a room for the night
it doesn't have to be special
just a place to rest and sleep
a bed and a warm meal
then tomorrow, same again
or some sightseeing
lets travel for a while
leave our worries behind
in a closed bank account
poem by Matthew Holloway
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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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The worst thing about being a tourist is having other tourists recognize you as a tourist.
quote by Russell Baker
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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God Is In The Radio
I thought I saw him on the video
A trance is keeping him under
I know that God is in the radio
Checkin the station
Im glad I caught it from me to you
Just a call in the medium
I know hear it, I hear it too
Its everywhere that I go
You come back another day
And do no wrong
The say the devil is paranoid
Always signin the cover
But God is leakin through the stereo
Between the station to station
You believe it, I know you do
You wont admit it or say so
I know that God is in the radio
Just repeating a slogan
You come back another day
And do no wrong
song performed by by Queens Of The Stone Age
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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Night Train (Smooth Alligator)
Leave the station
Somewhere down in east
Oh baby, across the nation
Looking for some fun
And some hey down hey
Tell the conductor you're headig
For the cocktail car
Yes you are
That is where I'll be with my sweet
Ooh, la la, hey
If you're tired of
That day after day ride
And you wanna get off
All aboard the night train
Like a smooth alligator
All aboard the night train
Such a cool calculator
All aboard the night train
Like a smooth operator
All aboard the night train
Such a cool calculator
What a beauty
Listen how the engine wails on the rails
Sing it to me
Come and play your tunes
Up and down my scales
Such a sweet melody
Reach out, the sky is wide
And the night is long
When you're right by my side
You can never go wrong
song performed by by Lionel Richie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Messy Life...
this house where we live
is just a train station and we are the trains always leaving to places
leaving smoke and
splinters of our
steel wheels
then when the real time comes for change
we only become passengers moving and moving and waving hands
the train station becomes a mark
that we soon forget in the books
on broken ears
and folded pages but we do not remember any page
not even the idea
of the character that we claim to have loved that much
things are messy really
but who cares? we look forward to the flashes of hills and towns
everything fades
like overused denims.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Space Station Mia
Sitting on a slow train-watching the grey sky
I smell your closeness as you take a seat close by
And soon I fantasize over your reflection
You don't see my advances of deception
Ain't it funny how someone so near
Can act as if they are on the Space Station Mia
Tickets please-the fat man says
You lend me a smile as he waddles away
I am fascinated to see what your text message says
Is it from your lover-does he miss you today
Ain't it funny how someone so near
Can act as if they are on the Space Station Mia
Every station that passes- every stop we make
Adds another word to what I should say
Were slowing down-your walking away
My lost conversation - my sunshine today
Ain't it funny how someone so near
Can act as if they are on the Space Station Mia
Space Station Mia
poem by Michael WheelerWyatt
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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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Night Train
Leave the station
Somewhere down in east
Oh baby, across the nation
Looking for some fun
And some hey down hey
Tell the conductor youre headig
For the cocktail car
Yes you are
That is where Ill be with my sweet
Ooh, la la, hey
If youre tired of
That day after day ride
And you wanna get off
All aboard the night train
Like a smooth alligator
All aboard the night train
Such a cool calculator
All aboard the night train
Like a smooth operator
All aboard the night train
Such a cool calculator
What a beauty
Listen how the engine wails on the rails
Sing it to me
Come and play your tunes
Up and down my scales
Such a sweet melody
Reach out, the sky is wide
And the night is long
When youre right by my side
You can never go wrong
song performed by by Lionel Richie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Noise
Sometimes we crave silence
but everywhere there is noise.
The intrusive noise of a blaring radio
or children screaming at one another
at the top of their lungs.
All you want is silence
and all you get is
noise, noise and more noise.
2 June 2009
poem by David Harris
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That was the big thing when I was growing up, singing on the radio. The extent of my dream was to sing on the radio station in Memphis. Even when I got out of the Air Force in 1954, I came right back to Memphis and started knocking on doors at the radio station.
quote by Johnny Cash
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Way Ticket To Heaven
I've got a one way ticket to heaven
On the glory train
I'm taking a trip to the promise Land
I'm never coming back again I made my resurrection
Long long ago
So when the conductor says all aboard
I would be ready to go I sent in for my tickets
Away ahead of time
So when the train pulled out from the station
I wouldn't be left behind I won't take any luggage
But that will be all right
When I get to Heaven
I'll wear my robe of white I hear that train coming
I hear her whistle blow
I've got a one way ticket to heaven
and I am ready to go
poem by Freda Lee Jackson
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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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You know the actor John Garfield? In one movie he walked up to this train station, the ticket booth, and the guy says, 'Yes, where are you going?' And he says, 'I want a ticket to nowhere.' I thought: that's it. The freedom to do that. I want a ticket to nowhere.
quote by Wayne Shorter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sala
A quaint sepia photograph reckons
Of my deceased old grandparents
In their cordial nuptial palpably soaked
And cloaked in God's veil and covenant
It perishes amongst the ghastly cobwebs
And the dusts in the wailing lifelessness
Of the immodest and muted living room
And in my somnolent and castrated vision
It had painted another mawkish picture,
A concrete memoire of the absence
Of love, of death, and of love in death
So I refocused on the sala instead
With the scraped pastel wallpapers
Toppling on the cold floor parquet
A catastrophic finagling that reveals
The abused skin of my genuine home:
The arms of acquiesced oblivion
Sprawling on the threadbare divan
And watching the midnight sitcoms
With my levity, and purging the ecstasy
Of my the escape in late night episodes;
Cradling my aversion and diversion
To dance with the perfidious moonlight;
Or read the hideous diffidence in my poetries
To the overwhelming nonchalance of the sparrows
Oblivion is here, in this juncture of the sala,
Furnished with such ludicrous fantasies
Almost accenting my brusque reality
That I sew upon my lifelong starvation
For love, for death, for love in death
For romance, for heaven, for that which will never
And the conservative chandelier was dimmed
From the stark brightness of the glacial fire
Burning in the patios of my forlorn mire
Fluttering with the barricading shades
Of these heavy carnation pink curtains
Like a colossal shadow in the dark
A surreptitious phantom lurking
And scheming on its feet, to devour
My harried refuge in this sala
Oblivion, it could be too arresting
That the lampshades thawed in fragments
Oblivion could be bountiful in fragments
But then again, it could probably be not,
Oblivion could be harsh; it could be very harsh,
When your oblivion is a puncturing memory
That only ensued in the insipidness of the sala
Not on its dark corner nor on its garish floor
Rather, in the sala where you are alone
But fixated with the company of a scent
Similar to the morning dews that never came.
poem by Norman Santos
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why did he choose Ida Bauer as her theme?
ALL over i watch
the story on film, a woman
is waiting for the train to arrive
at noon
and asks what time does it leave
and she always gets the answer
3 a.m.
and she waits
then the train trails slowly disappear
from her eyes
and the haze in front of her
takes her back
to her youth in the house where
her mother died
the story may not be true
as later on it gets too twisted focusing
on suppressed desires
that of Ida
i read the poem
his later doing and i begin to understand
why he writes on something
using some images
that i can barely figure out
it is the haze
it is always the haze that dissolves the rails
of the train
that takes us back home to the place
where our
roots lay rotten
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Noise
Dads stuck in the factory, machines are banging all around.
Mommas in the kitchen, she got the radio on all the time.
My little sisters screaming, and stamping on the ground.
And the radio keeps pumping out the same old boring sound.
All I hear is noise.
Cant get away from the noise.
Can you hear me above the noise?
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Can you hear the noise? (noise)
Cant get away from the noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Banging in my ears, in every direction.
Listen to the roar, hear that city[? ], poundin, poundin.
There oughta be a law, hey buddy, turn that radio down.
Sometimes I get used to it and I forget that its around.
But all I hear is noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
All of this confusion is ruining my day.
Let the noise be like the sunset, and slowly fade away.
Fading, fade.
Girl, I want to build a better world for me and you.
I wanna pull out all the plugs before I finally blow my fuse.
Wish all the confusion would slowly fade away.
Id tell you that I love you, but you dont hear what I way.
All you hear is noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Noise in the street, theyre digging up the pavement.
Noise in the air, those traffic jams are everywhere.
Noise on noise, to cover up the noise.
The pressures building up because theres no way to avoid,
All the noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
All of this confusion is ruining my day.
Let the noise be like the sunset, and slowly fade away.
Fading, fading.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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