En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Subway

He saw her at the subway station
Standing on the platform waiting for the train.
Inside the car they sat in front of each other.
She was quite young.

Though not strikingly pretty
She was good looking and attractive
And he liked her back-combed black hair.
It was long and lustrous and gathered into a chignon
And softened with a purple satin ribbon
That matched her elegant blue dress.
She wore high heeled black shoes
And her ivory skin shone on her comely legs.

The train moved and stopped
And moved again
At the stations the doors opened and closed
And people streamed out and in.

She sat quietly in her seat
And then opened her purse
And pulled out a candy
Wrapped in golden paper.
She removed carefully the wrapping
Put the candy slowly into her mouth
And then folded neatly the paper
And put it back into her purse.

He watched her discretely for a short while
And then closed his eyes
And when he opened them he saw
That she cast a timid glance looking at him.

He liked her.
He wanted to start a conversation with her
But somehow it just did not seem appropriate
To address a complete stranger on a train
And besides he was afraid to say something silly.
So he remained silent.

He wanted to say something to her
But he did not have the courage.
And then suddenly he panicked
Because he realized that he cannot speak
That he cannot pass through the invisible barrier
That extended between them

That despite her presence
He cannot reach out to her
That he is unable to have her in his life
And that they soon will get off the train
And he probably never will see her again.

The car wheels
Kept clacking and rattling over the rails
And they both sat silently on their seats
Two lonely islands in a withdrawn crowd.

Then the subway pulled into a station
And it was time to alight from the car.
Without saying a word
He walked through the door
And across the car window he saw her.
She was looking at him.

The train began to move slowly
Along the platform of the station
A moving image melting away
Like an ice dragon in the heat of summer.

In a few seconds it vanished
Into the thin air through the dark mouth
Of the subway tunnel.

poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Railroad Station

JUST a very common thing -
Shouts and whistles, bells that ring,
Just a platform in the rain
And a slowly moving train;
Just a woman dressed in black
Standing by a station-hack,
Gazing with her eyes profound
As the train goes outward bound;
And her bearing does not say
Who it is that goes away,
One who made her pulses stir,
Or a guest who wearied her.

poem by Alice Duer Miller
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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(Waiting For) The Ghost Train

A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ghost Train

A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide...

song performed by by Madness
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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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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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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No rush

I waited on the subway platform
and listened to a young woman
play acoustic guitar and sing
her face was round and her eyes
were wide with hope, she delicately played
as her voice draped over the
passing trains, her song kept pouring
soon there was a small crowd around her
watching her thick black braided hair swing
with the melody of her sounds
she made me forget about my train
I smiled at her soft pale face
and gave her a buck
several other people followed
and she played harder
her voice grew louder
and more trains passed
nobody got on
nobody cared
and nobody looked at their watches
we had cornered an angel
and we didn't want to let go
she stopped and took a small bow
and put away her guitar
the crowd thinned out
and my train pulled up
I looked at her one last time
she smiled and counted her dollars
I boarded the train and hummed
her songs all the way home

poem by Charles Lara
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Station

Soaked in grey light
oily blue puddles
shimmer on the platform.
The train is late.
A man shuffles his feet
paper folded under a
brown woolen arm.
The shine on his shoes
would dazzle
in proper light.
A woman searches her
purse -the fare is
in here somewhere.
Keys mimic the sound.
Her dress clings to mystery.
Children playing
the way children do.
Their innocence waning
the way innocence will.
The Porter checks his watch
schedule folded under a
blue woolen arm.
Shoes worn with polish.
Face lined with age and
weathered without mystery.
A grimace or a scowl or
a look
forlorn in the tedium of the station
-trains coming going screeching.
In his station
there is nothing to do
but wait.

poem by Ronald Shields
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Girl From Nowhere

The electric blue of a lightning sky
lit up the country lane momentarily.
She walked alone
with her scarf blowing in the wind
and her clothes soaked from the light rain.
But who was she and where was she?
She did not know.
Her eyes scanned everything
looking for something she recognised.
There was nothing there and she kept walking.

A crack of thunder startled her.
She jumped and looked around.
Lights of a car lit up the hedgerows
as it raced towards her.
She moved to one side
to allow it to pass.
The driver braked abruptly
along side of her.
The passenger window
wound itself down.
The driver smiled
out from the interior of the car.

“Are you all right miss? ”
The voice was low and warm.
She felt immediately
that she could trust it.
She looked in with large innocent eyes.
“Can you help me?
I cannot remember who I am or where I am.
The passenger door swung open.
“I think you had better get in.”

Cautiously she moved towards the car.
She climbed onto the passenger seat
and closed the door.
She glanced across
at her Good Samaritan.
“Thank you.” She whispered
as the car purred and moved forwards.
“There is a Police Station
about five miles ahead.
I will take you there;
they should be able to help you.”

She looked at him
as the car raced through
the quickly darkening lane.
“Haven’t you got a handbag? ”
He asked glancing across at her.
“Handbag? What is that? ”
“Where you keep your personal possessions in.”
She looked at him with a questioning look;
it was as if he was talking a strange language.
“My name is Jim Middleton.”
He said in his low warm voice.

She looked at him again
as the hedge rows disappeared
and streetlights and buildings
began to appear.
Scattered at first,
then more and more
as they moved into the town.
He stopped outside the Police Station.
He smiled. “We are here.”
Switching off the engine, he opened the door
and walked around the car.
He opened the door
to escort her into the station.
He stood mouth opened.
She was not there.

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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I like the rain

when I met you
it was a heavy rain
approached there my train
was a beautiful summer
on the platform the drummer
drummed and a sun
came out a fun
of hot rays began.

I didn't get
onto a train,
stopped me eyes
it was a day really
exceptionally nice .
and our fun
lasts as soon,
as is lighting the sun.

I am going to the platform
and I am waiting
perhaps a weather
will change
and a rain
will start
being
falling down...

poem by Maria Barbara Korynt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eastbound Train

It was New Cross Station, I was going on home
Saw you get your ticket, standing on your own
Here come the train about 02:44
I couldn't get a smoker, you took another car
Yeah, the end of the line, we both had to change,
And you're standing right behind me,
I'm a feeling kinda strange
We got to Mile End Road, my heart skipped a beat,
Standing right behind me, I'm a shakin' in my seat
3-4 minutes and the train comes through,
I'm ridin' on the Central, I'm a-lookin' at you.
Woman on the eastbound train,
Sometimes I wanna see you again.
Now I couldn't read a paper, you couldn't read a book,
Kept on taking me another look,
You got off the train, you never looked behind
I tried, but I can't get you out of my mind.
Woman on the eastbound train,
Sometimes I wanna see you again.
Well I got one more thing I wanna say before I go
If you get the message on the radio
You can write a letter, get in touch with me,
Leave your number with the company, yeah.
Woman on the eastbound train,
Sometimes I wanna see you again.

song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Old Railroad Stations

At these tiny old railroad stations,
Which my own train long ago left behind,
I fear for the pressing crush of people
Departing, who pass on this stretch of track.

And I would like to see myself rise
Above the ones waiting on the platform,
So that I am as far as I can be now
On my journey in this rattlebox life,

So that I know bridges and tunnels,
The sea-, lake-, rock-, and cityscapes,
So my eyes and ears are pierced with knowing,
With those unknown in their seats,

So that they'll still be sitting in Times' train,
Brooding at the window, watching sparks fly
And the flashing of the tragic signals,
When I long got off at the destination.

poem by Franz Werfel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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