Luxury Liners
A crew of thousands mostly
low paid men and women
who works long hours
for little reward.
How to train them to be
competent seafarers?
Add four thousand passengers
who know little of the perils of the sea.
It takes so little a fire in the engine room
that cannot be stopped;
a navigational error?
I was a seafarer but I would never
dream of joining those floating palaces
of restaurants and nightclubs and
trendy officers who are chosen for their
looks and not sturdy ability.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Related quotes
Solidarity
The last train stopped at midnight
With the passengers!
A mechanicl fault it seems.
And an old bus towed her
To the last destination!
All the passengers and the disabled train
Gave lot of thanks to the bus.
That's all!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Hellbound Train
A Texas cowboy lay down on a barroom floor,
Having drunk so much he could drink no more;
So he fell asleep with a troubled brain
To dream that he rode on a hell-bound train.
The engine with murderous blood was damp
And was brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp;
An imp, for fuel, was shoveling bones,
While the furnace rang with a thousand groans.
The boiler was filled with lager beer
And the devil himself was the engineer;
The passengers were a most motly crew-
Church member, atheist, Gentile, and Jew,
Rich men in broadcloth, beggers in rags,
Handsome young ladies, and withered old hags,
Yellow and black men, red, brown, and white,
All chained together-O God, what a site!
While the train rushed on at an awful pace-
The sulphurous fumes scorched their hands and face;
Wider and wider the country grew,
As faster and faster the engine flew.
Louder and louder the thunder crashed
And brighter and brighter the lightning flashed;
Hotter and hotter the air became
Till the clothes were burned from each quivering frame.
And out of the distance there arose a yell,
'Ha, ha,' said the devil, 'we're nearing hell!'
Then oh, how the passengers all shrieked with pain
And begged the devil to stop the train.
But he capered about and danced for glee,
And laughed and joked at their misery.
'My faithful friends, you have done the work
And the devil never can a payday shirk.
'You've bullied the weak, you've robbed the poor,
The starving brother you've turned from the door;
You've laid up gold where the canker rust,
And have given free vent to your beastly lust.
'You've justice scorned, and corruption sown,
And trampled the laws of nature down.
You have drunk, rioted, cheated, plundered, and lied,
And mocked at God in your hell-born pride.
'You have paid full fair, so I'll carry you through,
For it's only right you should have your due.
Why, the laborer always expects his hire,
So I'll land you safe in the lake of fire,
'Where your flesh will waste in the flames that roar,
And my imps torment you forevermore.'
Then the cowboy awoke with an anguished cry,
His clothes wet with sweat and his hair standing high
Then he prayed as he never had prayed till that hour
To be saved from his sin and the demon's power;
And his prayers and his vows were not in vain,
For he never road the hell-bound train.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hell-Bound Train
A Texas cowboy lay down on a barroom floor,
Having drunk so much he could drink no more;
So he fell asleep with a troubled brain
To dream that he rode on a hell-bound train.
The engine with murderous blood was damp
And was brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp;
An imp, for fuel, was shoveling bones,
While the furnace rang with a thousand groans.
The boiler was filled with lager beer
And the devil himself was the engineer;
The passengers were a most motley crew-
Church member, atheist, Gentile, and Jew,
Rich men in broad cloth, beggars in rags,
Handsome young ladies, and withered old hags,
Yellow and black men, red, brown, and white,
All chained together-O God, what a sight!
While the train rushed on at an awful pace-
The sulphurous fumes scorched their hands and face;
Wider and wider the country grew,
As faster and faster the engine flew.
Louder and louder the thunder crashed
And brighter and brighter the lightning flashed;
Hotter and hotter the air became
Till the clothes were burned from each quivering frame.
And out of the distance there arose a yell,
'Ha, ha,' said the devil, 'we're nearing hell'
Then oh, how the passengers all shrieked with pain
And begged the devil to stop the train.
But he capered about and danced for glee,
And laughed and joked at their misery.
'My faithful friends, you have done the work
And the devil never can a payday shirk.
'You've bullied the weak, you've robbed the poor,
The starving brother you've turned from the door;
You've laid up gold where the canker rust,
And have given free vent to your beastly lust.
'You've justice scorned, and corruption sown,
And trampled the laws of nature down.
You have drunk, rioted, cheated, plundered, and lied,
And mocked at God in your hell-born pride.
'You have paid full fare, so I'll carry you through,
For it's only right you should have your due.
Why, the laborer always expects his hire,
So I'll land you safe in the lake of fire,
'Where your flesh will waste in the flames that roar,
And my imps torment you forevermore.'
Then the cowboy awoke with an anguished cry,
His clothes wet with sweat and his hair standing high.
Then he prayed as he never had prayed till that hour
To be saved from his sin and the demon's power;
And his prayers and his vows were not in vain,
For he never rode the hell-bound train.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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The Wreck of the Steamer Mohegan
Good people of high and low degree,
I pray ye all to list to me,
And I'll relate a terrible tale of the sea
Concerning the unfortunate steamer, Mohegan,
That against the Manacles Rocks, ran.
'Twas on Friday, the 14th of October, in the year of ninety-eight,
Which alas! must have been a dreadful sight;
She sailed out of the river Thames on Thursday,
While the hearts of the passengers felt light and gay.
And on board there were 133 passengers and crew,
And each one happier than another seemingly to view;
When suddenly the ship received some terrible shocks,
Until at last she ran against the Manacles Rocks.
Dinner was just over when the shock took place,
Which caused fear to be depicted in every face;
Because the ship was ripped open, and the water rushed in,
It was most dreadful to hear, it much such a terrific din.
Then the cries of children and women did rend the air,
And in despair many of them tore their hair
As they clung to their babies in wild despair,
While some of them cried- 'Oh, God, do Thou my babies spare!'
The disaster occurred between seven and eight o'clock at night,
Which caused some of the passengers to faint with fright;
As she struck on the Manacles Rocks between Falmouth and Lizard Head,
Which filled many of the passengers' hearts with dread.
Then the scene that followed was awful to behold,
As the captain hurried to the bridge like a hero bold;
And the seamen rushed manfully to their posts,
While many of the passengers with fear looked as pale as ghosts.
And the poor women and children were chilled to the heart,
And crying aloud for their husbands to come and take their part;
While the officers and crew did their duty manfully,
By launching the boats immediately into the sea.
Then lifebelts were tied round the women and children
By the brave officers and gallant seamen;
While the storm fiend did laugh and angry did roar,
When he saw the boats filled with passengers going towards the shore.
One of the boats, alas! unfortunately was swamped,
Which caused the officers and seamens' courage to be a little damped;
But they were thankful the other boats got safely away,
And tried hard to save the passengers without dismay.
Then a shriek of despair arose as the ship is sinking beneath the wave,
While some of the passengers cried to God their lives to save;
But the angry waves buffetted the breath out of them,
Alas, poor sickly children, also women and men.
Oh, heaven, it was most heartrending to see
A little girl crying and imploring most piteously,
For some one to save her as she didn't want to die,
But, alas, no one seemed to hear her agonizing cry.
For God's sake, boys, get clear, if ye can,
Were the captain's last words spoken like a brave man;
Then he and the officers sank with the ship in the briny deep,
Oh what a pitiful sight, 'tis enough to make one weep.
Oh think of the passengers that have been tempest tossed,
Besides, 100 souls and more, that have been lost;
Also, think of the mariner while on the briny deep,
And pray to God to protect him at night before ye sleep.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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A Certain Happening
the hours come to you like a train
you are not any of those passengers
waiting to be taken somewhere else
you are upon a different situation
as the train loses its body from its tracks
rams its existence upon a mountain
on some sparks of surprises creating fire
and explosion that shocks the city
with all of them dead
you are not one of them but you are
the one who watches the scene without any emotion
the hours come to you like a body completely numb
there are no more feelings except that peace
that stillness of space like a canvass empty
all white and frame-less against the silence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I don't go to the cool, trendy restaurants. I go to either the holes in the wall or the super-fancy restaurants where there are no cool people.
quote by Tyra Banks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fate Hanged on a Hairbreadth
It was summer,1944.
The train stood at the railway station of Gyŏr,
halfway on the road
between Budapest and Vienna.
In the boxcars
there were over 3,000 passengers.
The Hungarian gendarmes squeezed
the deported men, women and children
like sardines into the wagons
and the prisoners were crying for help.
For the SS-Unterscharführer
assigned to the transport
it was just another job.
The corporal already directed
many similar trains to the east.
And those trains always went to the east
and to the same terminus.
However, this transport of deportees
was unlike the others.
The SS corporal made a fatal mistake
but the guards discovered this
only at the Slovakian border.
The train's number was not
on the list of transports
destined for Auschwitz.
The train stopped
at the Slovakian border.
Here the guards contacted
Colonel Adolf Eichmann by telephone
and informed him about the error.
Eichmann decided
that since the train traveled that far
it should continue to Auschwitz.
So the SS guards changed the serial number
of the train and replaced it with the number
of another train departing from Debrecen.
Thus, instead of the death camp
of Auschwitz-Birkenau
in Nazi occupied Poland,
the train from Debrecen
was sent to the distribution camp
of Strasshof in Austria.
As you see,
fate hanged in the war on a hairbreadth.
A freak of chance, a random accident,
an oversight of procedure,
or of a supposed algorithm,
could lead to arbitrary decisions
regarding the life or death of thousands.
Although Strasshof
was a brutal slave labor lager,
most people there,
about 14,000 of the 21,000 deportees,
survived the ordeal of the Holocaust.
poem by Paul Hartal
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They can't take your house and give it to the mayor's mistress, even if they pay you for it. But they can, apparently, take your house and tear it down to make room for a development of trendy shops and restaurants, a hotel and so on.
quote by Michael Kinsley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One of the things you learn being in the public eye is that you have the ability to raise awareness about serious issues, and, in the process, really help people. I've chosen to get the word out to women, especially young women, that tobacco is not glamorous - it's addictive and smoking takes a serious toll on your health.
quote by Mena Suvari
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I've been working some really long hours for the last five or six years. Anybody who works on series television knows, and especially women because women spend probably two hours more than the guys with all their hair and makeup crap.
quote by Victoria Pratt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Train Of Gold
I saw her there from across the street, she was dressed in black
And when she moved she moved to a beat, like a cadillac
She rode a train, train train train, a train of gold
She was a woman of suspicious ways, never saw daylight
And in her room she sat and passed the days
And shed creep out at night
She rode a train, train train train, a train of gold
Chorus: train of gold, train of gold
It took me so long to find out I was wrong
Now I wait for her in the night
Looked through a window saw a velvet sky, a shade of green
A violin was playing soft and sweet, like it was a dream
She rode a train, train train train, a train of gold
Train of gold, train of gold
It took me so long to find out I was wrong
Now I wait for her in the night
Train of gold, train of gold
I dont believe her, it just couldnt be her
I cant get it out of my mind
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Error
this is not an ordinary error that one corrects
like a grammatical mistake
that with a slight stroke of the pen
everything becomes correct
and acceptable
this is repeated error
one knows it is an error but one does not correct it
it plunges and pushes and pulls
back to the same error again
something delicious
so sweet to the tongue
the mouth salivates
and the heart pounces upon
a thousand breathings
this is the error that one always looks forward to see
one evening and another
in a room the two of you sharing it
you kneel and pray and soar to heights
without so many words wasted
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ballad Of Cleo & Joe
Every morning the clock kicks off the beat.
Little Joe struggles just to get up on his feet.
Waits in his platforms for the right train to come.
Sipping his coffee another day has begun
Little Joe got work for minimum wage
Tries to get through another dead beat day
At five a clock he comes home to change
takes him many hours just to rearrange
And he works his body just to be somebody
There's a woman in the mirror looking like a dream
And he works his body and he feels somebody
and the working boy becomes a dancing queen
And he works his body just to be somebody.
There's a woman in the mirror looking like a dream.
And he works his body just to feel somebody
and the working boy becomes a dancing queen.
Every night the DJ kicks off the beat.
Little Cleo's jumping just to get up on her feet.
Waits in her platforms for the right song to come.
Sipping her cocktail another night has begun.
And he works his body just to be somebody.
There's a woman in the mirror looking like a dream.
And he works his body and he feels somebody
and the working boy became a dancing queen.
Every morning the clock kicks off the beat
Little Joe struggles just to get up on his feet.
Waits in his platforms for the right train to come...
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Sisters Of Avalon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Have To Sneeze
Just a second.
I have to snee...
Well,
Maybe not.
You chose to dismiss those competent.
And those competent have chosen now,
To ignore you.
Sounds like a mutual exchange.
But with a conflicting point of view.
You selected those you liked,
To represent your causes and way of life.
Inspite of their having any knowledge...
Or influence over others,
To solicit an excitement.
Nor could they think their way,
Out of a paper bag.
But they looked good dressed in their Sunday best.
And as long as they impressed,
This made you glad.
And now today,
Since your situations appear exceedingly sad...
You wish to be represented by a competence.
But those you did not choose,
You believed...
Expressed an arrogance.
And even though they displayed a common sense,
You turned them away.
Dismissing them to worship ignorance.
To do as you please.
One moment...
Again I believe,
I have to sneeze.
LOLOLOLOLOL
I apologize.
Who knew I would have that reaction?
You chose to dismiss those competent.
And those competent have chosen now,
To ignore you.
Sounds like a mutual exchange.
But with a conflicting point of view.
Ahh-Choo!
There it is.
I knew it was coming,
Eventually!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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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
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10,000 Men
Ten thousand men on a hill,
Ten thousand men on a hill,
Some of m goin down, some of m gonna get killed.
Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue,
Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue,
Drummin in the morning, in the evening theyll be coming for you.
Ten thousand men on the move,
Ten thousand men on the move,
None of them doing nothin that your mama wouldnt disapprove.
Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold,
Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold,
All clean shaven, all coming in from the cold.
Hey! who could your lover be?
Hey! who could your lover be?
Let me eat off his head so you can really see!
Ten thousand women all dressed in white,
Ten thousand women all dressed in white,
Standin at my window wishing me goodnight.
Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail,
Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail,
Each one of em got seven wives, each one of em just out of jail.
Ten thousand women all sweepin my room,
Ten thousand women all sweepin my room,
Spilling my buttermilk, sweeping it up will a broom.
Ooh, baby, thank you for my tea!
Baby, thank you for my tea!
Its so sweet of you to be so nice to me.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living In A Haunted Heart
I stumbled in and I fell straight asleep in the chair
Swear I did
Woke with a start and I thought I saw you floating by
Swear I did
The fixtures and furnitures the same
As the second you walked out the door
But here in my head you put a ghost train
And I cant go round any more
And I hear the passengers scream
Im living in a haunted heart
And I tell myself its all a bad dream
Im living in a haunted heart
Too proud to beg you to come back
One more drink, the fairground fades to black
Every night
Days last for years til the dark, like a bear,
Puts his claws around my brain
Smack! bang on time, with your laugh, you walk in
Through the walls around my brain
The curtains and carpets are the same
As the day you dissolved in thin air
Now here I go queueing for the horror ride
Knowing I dont have the fare
And I hear the passengers scream
Im living in a haunted heart
And I tell myself its all a bad dream
Im living in a haunted heart
Too proud to beg you to come back
As the ghost train rattles round its track,
Every night
I cant exorcise you or cause you to reappear
But if you want to know what nothing looks like
Well just peel back my chest and take a look inside here
The fixtures and furnitures the same
As the second you walked out the door
But here in my head you put a ghost train
And I cant go round any more
And I hear the passengers scream
Im living in a haunted heart
And youre shaking me apart at the seams
Im living in a haunted heart
My reality is pushed past extremes
Im living in a haunted heart
And I tell myself its just a bad dream
Im living in a haunted heart
Too proud to beg you to come back
One more drink, the fairground fades to black.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why they take to their heels?
Two young men were on a flying bike,
took an abrupt turn to the right
and lost some of their limbs
dashing against a turning bus to the left.
The driver and the conductor got down
and ran off with all their might.
A passenger, being social, cried:
“ How can I reach my place?
I will torch the bus”
All the passengers stared at him in mute.
A gang of AIDS –borrowers
darted into a crowded bus
and looked daggers at all,
with scaring syringes manned by HIV.
Fear lent all the passengers wings
leaving alone the poor bus-crew
to beg the deadly traders
with looks so alrming!
'HIV can't be drizzled by injection'
wasn't known to common man those days.
A public vehicle fit to be thrown away
was trotting on the road,
mindless of the overtaking private buses.
Before its heart failed,
masked men wielding rusty choppers,
waylaid it, threw stones and petrol bombs
and set fire to it to get release their boss.
The bus-crew and the passengers
Knew no directions in their flight.
--
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Paper Boats
Sit on a train, reading a book
Same damn planet every time I look
Try to relax and slow my heartbeat
Only works when im dead asleep
Been thinking and drinking all over the town
Must be gearing up for some kind of melt-down
All I am is
A body floating down-wind
All I am is
A body floating down-wind
Whats wrong?
Nothing
Are you sure nothings wrong?
Yeah
But youre sad about something
Yeah
So tell me what
I dont know
I cant tell you
I cant tell you
All I am is
A body floating down-wind
All I am is
A body floating down-wind
Sit on a train, reading a book
Same damn planet every time I look
Try to relax and slow my heartbeat
Only works when im dead asleep
Been thinking and drinking all over the town
Must be gearing up for some kind of melt-down
As the express train passes the local
It moves by just like a paper boat.
Although it weighs a million pounds
I swear it almost seems to float.
And as we pass by each other
Our heads all full of bother
We cant look, we cant stop
We cant think, We cant stop
Because were stuck in our own paths
And its the way it always lasts
But I need something more from you.
All I am is
A body floating down-wind
All I am is
A body floating down-wind
song performed by by Nada Surf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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