Travel in a Box Car of the Fuehrer
Armed with bayonet-fixed rifles
And hurling vulgar insults
Royal Hungarian gendarmes
In cock- feather- plumed hats
Shoved us with vicious force
Onto a shabby cattle car
In the railway station of Szeged.
And then they locked the doors.
With my little sister in her arms
Mother and I found ourselves
Amid eighty men, women and children
Squeezed together like sardines
In a hermetically sealed tin can.
The wagon was ill-ventilated
Its small windows were barred and wired.
The Jewish prisoner train
Departed slowly with the deported
Gathering clattering momentum
On a dreadful journey
Into the gloomy unknown.
The box car came with two buckets
One was filled with water
The other empty for human waste
And soon was filled to the rim
With urine and feces.
The car became a stinking latrine
Rolling on rusty wheels.
We travelled day and night
And sometimes the train
Made a halt on the open track
In the middle of nowhere
Waiting idly for a long time.
We arrived at the concentration camp
After a horrible voyage of three days
But not before the Hungarian gendarmes
Were replaced by SS guards
At the Austrian border.
During the ordeal of this voyage
I sat next to a sick old man
Who was lying on the floor exhausted.
My shoes were touching his face
And I began to play with my shoe lace
Passing it over his mouth and nose.
He had sighed and groaned in delirium
And when my mother noticed
She scolded me in an angry voice.
So I stopped and apologized
For my uncomprehending mischief
But the old man did not hear my words.
The train wheels kept rattling
Over the railway tracks
Across meadows and towns.
Some time passed
And then I looked at the old man:
He became very quiet.
Mother told me that he died.
poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Restaurant Keeper
In the City of Toronto there was once
a restaurant owned by a man named Imre Finta.
Born in 1912 in Austria-Hungary, Finta spent
his years of youth in my hometown Szeged,
immigrating to Canada after the Second World War.
Settling in Toronto, in 1953 Finta bought
the Candlelight Restaurant but it did not go well,
so he closed it. Then he opened The Moulin Rouge
on Avenue Road at DuPont Street.
The old fashioned Hungarian gentleman greeted
his guests warmly, politely kissing the right hand
of his female patrons.
I had never dined at the Moulin Rouge
but I encountered Finta in a brickyard and
at the railway station of Szeged in the summer
of 1944. At that time I was eight years old
and Finta, aged 32, was a Captain
of the Royal Hungarian Gendarmerie.
He was also a Nazi collaborator who supervised
the deportation of 8,617 Jews to slave labour lagers
and death camps. I was one of them.
A few months earlier, on March 19,1944,
the German Army occupied Hungary
and Adolf Eichmann arrived in Budapest.
His Mission was to implement in Hungary
the “Final Solution”, a Euphemism the Nazis
used to disguise the mass murder of the Jews.
In June 1944, swearing gendarmes pushed
a group of Jewish prisoners from the ersatz ghetto
of Kistelek onto a freight train. My mother,
my three year old sister Vera and I were
among them. We travelled thirty kilometres to
Szeged where the gendarmes led us to
an abandoned brick factory that was turned into
a makeshift concentration camp.
The brickyard camp commandant was
SS captain Angermayer, whom I remember
as a tall and lanky silhouette moving among
the prisoners in a black uniform.
He was assisted by ruthless gendarmes
in cock-feathered hats, armed with
bayoneted rifles and swords,
who terrorized the captives.
Living conditions in the makeshift ghetto
were dreadful. Only one water tap served
almost nine thousand people and the latrine
did not deserve that name. Garbage was strewn
all over the place. The silence of the night
was broken by the screams of the mentally ill.
Captain Finta, head of the Department
of Investigations in Szeged, appeared
in the brickyard day after day.
Accompanied by a group of his detectives,
he repeatedly threatened to shoot every person,
who hides his or her own money and valuables.
This chief of “investigations”
and his police thugs had beaten and tortured
innocent Jewish men and women in order
to find and confiscate their private property.
Many of them committed suicide.
Aided by doctors and midwives, the gendarmes
conducted the bodily searches, including anal
and genital inspections. Not everyone in Hungary
was impressed though by the efficiency of police
investigations. Endre Hamvas, the Catholic Bishop
of Csanad, for example, was shocked and sent
a protesting report to church officials
on the brutal police searches.
On June 21, Finta initialled and submitted
a memorandum to the Mayor stating that
the German SS command decided to deport
the Jews from Szeged on June 25,27 and 28,
on three freight trains.
The deportations occurred under dreadful weather
conditions, amid thunder storms. A lot of rain
fell on the city in June. The dark skies opened
their gloomy gates. The heavens were weeping
for the sorrows of mothers, the anguish of fathers,
for the misery of the world.
Finta came to the railway station to oversee
how the gendarmes pushed us onto the crowded
cattle cars. About eighty people were squeezed into
each box car like sardines. The guards provided for
every car a bucket of water and another bucket
to serve as the toilet. When a woman called out,
“please, give us more water”, a gendarme replied:
“You don’t really need water because
you will be soon dead”.
Finta stood at the station cursing the Jews.
His former fiancée was among the deported,
and he told her that she was “a Jewish whore”.
Three months later his police career was over.
The advancing Soviet Army crossed the Tisza River
and on October 11,1944, had taken Szeged.
Finta did not wait for their arrival and fled from
the city.
After the war a Hungarian People’s Court in Szeged
tried him in absentia for his complicity in torture,
robbery, forcible confinement, kidnapping and
manslaughter. In 1948 it convicted Finta for
war crimes and crimes against humanity. He was
sentenced for five years of prison with forced labour.
Yet Finta was free. He and hundreds of other Nazi
war criminals arrived in Canada, hiding their
terrible secrets. They committed harrowing atrocities
in their own country. Then they fled and found safe
haven in Canada. Not knowing their horrific crimes,
Canada welcomed them with open arms.
However, in 1987 Finta was arraigned in Toronto
and prosecuted for war crimes. But, how do you
deliver justice half a century later? The crimes were
committed in another country, in a different era,
while the memories of the witnesses have faded.
Mind you, the judicial system is not about justice
but the power struggle between prosecution and
defence. And the Finta trial was very poorly
designed. He was not judged for robbery, torture,
kidnapping, deportation and murder but for
his mind set in 1944. Thus Finta managed to pass
the responsibility for his crimes to his superiors.
In 1990 the 78 year old Finta walked out
of the court hall as a free man, proclaiming his love
for the Jewish people. He did not forget to add that
he used to have many Jewish friends and that once
he even had a Jewish fiancée.
As his victim, I do not feel any anger or bitterness
over his acquittal. I do not believe in punishment
for revenge. Moreover, what sort of justice can result
from a trial? After all, courts cannot compensate us
for our sufferings, for our lost years of youth.
Nor can they bring back to life the dead.
poem by Paul Hartal
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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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Re-Birth
You could see him from a distance
at the bus halt he stood motionless.
staring to the infinity.
he waited for the bus for hours and hours
days and months.
he wanted to see his mother
who is going to die very soon.
He saw a lorry came to the halt
full of laborers with instruments
and the overseer explained him that
they are going to put up a Railway line.
He waited for the train
for hours, days and months
at last the train arrived and his sick mother got down.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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Freight Train
Well I just came down from Chippewa
I had a station wagon and a hundred dollars
I was thinkin' about the girl I'd lost a year before
I hadn't seen her for some time
I thought that I might go on by
When your memory came floodin' in
And you closed that door
[CHORUS:]
Wish I was a freight train baby
Wish I was a diesel locomotive
I'd come whistlin' down your track
Crashin' in your door
Wish I was a freight train baby
Wish I didn't have a heart
And you'd need a shovel for the coal
Just to get me started
Wish I was a freight train baby
Wish I was a freight train
Well every time I talk to you
And I hear your jealous lies
I feel like I've been left abandoned
On some old railway side
And every time I hear your voice
My water just gets cold
My stoker will not stoke
And my boiler will not boil
[CHORUS]
Well every time I fell behind
And I could not get ahead
I wish someone would pull the lever
And give me a little sand
And every time I slip behind
Even further back
I wish some switchman would come out of the fog
And change my track
Wish I was a freight train baby
Wish I was a diesel locomotive
I'd come whistlin' down your track
Crashin' in your door
Wish I was a freight train baby
Wish I didn't have a heart
And you'd need a shovel for the coal
Just to get me started
Wish I was a freight train baby
Wish I was a freight train . . .
song performed by by Kasey Chambers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Land Of Hope & Dreams
Grab your ticket and your suitcase
Thunders rolling down the tracks
Dont know where youre goin
Sky is turnin black
Well darlin if youre weary
Lay your head upon my chest
Well take what we can carry
And well leave behind the rest
Big wheels rolling through fields
Where sunlight streams
Meet me in a land of hope and dreams
Well I will provide for you
Ya and I will stand by your side
Youll need a good companion darlin
For this part of the ride
Ya leave behind your sorrows
Ya this day at last
Tomorrow theyll be sunny skies
And all this darkness past
Big wheels rolling through fields
Where sunlight streams
Meet me in a land of hope and dreams
This train
Carries saints and sinners
This train
Carries losers and winners
This train
Carries whores and gamblers
This train
Carries midnight ramblers
This train
Carries broken hearted
This train
Carries souls departed
This train
Dreams will not be thwarted
This train
Faith will be rewarded
This train
Carries fools and kings
This train
Hear the big wheels singing
This train
Bells of freedom ringing
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kimono
The Kimono
I was joining a ship in another town; mother followed me the railway station,
which was not far as we lived nearby? From the train I looked down at her and
saw what I had never seen, a woman with unkempt hair, in an old overcoat
with missing buttons and shoes that needed heeling. There were many other
people on the platform, but she stood out looking like a bag woman.
I felt ashamed and guilty for feeling embarrassed. When returning I will have
money to buy her a new coat, shoes and send her to a hairdresser, I thought.
The train moved forward and I waved as long as I could see her.
A year later my ship had just left Tokyo, bound for the Panama canal, when
the radio operator came into the galley with a cable, I could see in his face he
had no glad tiding. I sat in my cabin grieving, took out the kimono I had bought
her it was made of silk and was as soft as a mother’s embrace; and I cried.
A knock on my door it was the captain who said: “No time for tears son, crew
needs to be fed and you are the cook.“ That night and many nights thereafter
I was lulled asleep by the ship’s steady heartbeat.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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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War Memories with Acrostic
Memories woven to monument towering to heaven
Of a sweet, gracious and wonderful woman.
Though she did nothing wrong, she was persecuted
Held daughter and son in arms, her man was deported.
Edgy at the brickyard, hurt in Jewish pride
Rascals put her in a jammed freight car for a railway ride.
Weary from thirst and hunger, surrounded by pain
Horror was unfolding on a rattling train.
Exhausted of the ordeal she arrived at the camps
Robbed of her freedom she stood under the lamps
Exposed to blowing snow, the barracks lacked ovens.
A small vulnerable woman there had seen forehand
Ruthless degradations, beastly atrocities offhand.
Experienced nightmare while the sun was shining
Yet hope knocked the door when bombs were falling.
Overwhelmed by explosions, frightened, panic-stricken
Unprotected against the blasts, she shielded her children.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Grandma
Above the bed
Old photos stared down
Solemnly from the wall.
Behind the glass frame
Grandpa wore
His grey uniform
Of the Great War;
Grandma her sombre dress.
She died before I was born
And grandpa shortly after.
The only grandparent
That I knew was
My mother’s step mother.
For some reason
She did not get along well
With my parents
But I basked
In the warmth of her
Pampering indulgence.
In the manner
Of old peasant women
She dressed in long black
Garments that covered
Her delicate frame,
Hanging down
From her fragile shoulders
Like late autumn leaves.
I think I was about
Three years old
When I became very sick
With dysentery.
Grandma took me
To her house to recover.
I lost my appetite
And her remedies
Included a daily dose
Of red wine
Which she served me
In a small crystal glass.
Holding my hand in hers
Sometimes she took me
For a walk in the streets.
As we passed
The men removed
Their hats
To greet her.
In the summer of 1944
The gendarmes came
And pushed her onto
A crammed cattle car
For a horrible journey
Across Nazi occupied Europe
From Hungary to Poland.
At the end of the voyage
Grandma was murdered
In the gas chambers
Of Auschwitz.
Her body was burned
In the fires of ovens
Her ashes soared
With the flames
Of the chimneys,
Carried by the winds
To the skies,
Rising higher and higher
To the planets
And the stars.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Old Train
This song was first released on the all aboard! album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Old train, I can hear your whistle blow
And I want to be jumping on again
Old train, Ive been everywhere you go
And I know what lies beyond each bend
Old train, each time you pass
Youre older than the last
And it seems Im too old for running
I hear your rusty wheels grate against the rails
They cry with every mile
And I think Ill stay awhile
Old train, I grow weary at the miles
And I miss the freedom that was mine
Old train, just to think about those times
Ill smile when youre highballing by
Old train, each time you pass
Youre older than the last
And it seems Im too old for running
I hear your rusty wheels grate against the rails
They cry with every mile
And I think Ill stay awhile
Words and music by herb pedersen and mikki pedersen
song performed by by John Denver
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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The wheels of time
The wheels of time roll around,
it dosn't stop for anyone
the wheels of time, for me it's almost done.
The wheels of time rolls around,
changes me with age
the wheels of time for my life a new stage
The wheels of time roll around,
life has passed me by
the wheels of time make me want to cry.
The wheels of time roll around
so many changes they bring
the wheels of time, for me going faster than a train.
The wheels of time roll around
another day gone, another day went by,
the wheels of time, changes in my life, I'll apply.
The wheels of time roll around
changes I need to make,
the wheels of time, chances I have to take
The wheels of time roll around
closing in on me,
the wheels of time, finally I'll face it with glee.
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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Big City Train
Can you hear that whistle
Loud clackety-clack
Its calling me
The station is where its at
Its coming again now
Chuggin down that track
Just check your records
Got all my bags packed
Youll always find me waiting for that train to come through
Come get me, take me, to the land where my dreams come true
This time Ill board that train
It wont be long
Check the label on my baggage
Destination in my song
Talk to the conductor
Saved up my fare
Yakety-yak for a while
Choo choo!
Chorus:
Hurry grab my luggage
Hurry grab my bags
It seems the locomotive
Has been taken another track
A penny brought on by mischief
A penny, a form of cash
Has been placed upon the railway
We are destined to be a smash!
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Unknown Pilgrim?
On my way walking home
While the Venus Star burns
in the dark sky,
The youth questioned me;
'Why the two tracks Grandpa? '
Then I replied; 'Probably one for North
And the other stretched to South it seems.'
'Nobody wants to go from West to East
And see their innocent struggle for survival? '
The Mail-Train whistled from a far
And he's disappeared all of a sudden!
I was really excited though it's my inner soul
Or somebody else from another planet?
The ragged Station Master's holding his dim hurricane lamp
and he's very inquisitive of my whereabouts.
The empty train passed slowly like a beautiful widow
Yet I couldn't trace those mysterious Railway tracks?
Yes Chum! We come like water and go as wind
He who erases our strange names systematically?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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