The train now standing at platform 2
The train now standing at platform 2 is empty now,
its windows still fogged by smut and smog
that lapped the sides for the time of its reign.
Its seats depressed by ghostly bottoms of long ago,
that sat, expectantly on their way through.
They're essence fills the very air we breathe.
Now the train holds no one, no laughter, no chatter.
It just sits on a mocked up platform at York Museum
to amuse tourists, those eager, bright eyed, faces.
It holds tightly to memories, its past, those well kept secrets,
somehow wanting, so much, to tell all it has seen.
Its driver, with blackened fingers and grubby face
no longer steers its mighty coaches along a well used track,
but his presence is sensed by all that walk _
through the 10.15……
stopping at quaint villages
seaside towns, lovers trysts,
new homes and all stations to destiny.
poem by Ruth Walters
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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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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
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Blackened...
blackened steel...
blackened faces,
blackened hearts,
blackened roads...
blackened eyes,
blackened dreams,
blackened prayers,
blackened gods...
blackened memories,
blackened fingers,
blackened windows,
blackened rooms...
blackened thoughts,
blackened nails,
blackened shovels,
blackened tomb!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Border Train
Got nobody left to listen to
Got no promises to keep
Something's gotta be out there
Fine a world for me out there
No more livin' half asleep
There's an island in the misty night
Little platform by the track
I dreamed I saw a light for me
A face, a place so right for me
That I'd never think of lookin' back
Through the shadowland
Like a siver band
Got no kind of plan
I ride the border train
Somewhere new to be
Light the way for me
Moon and memories
I ride the border train
City jumps up like a circus
Neon flutters out of sight
The town itself is traveling
America unraveling
And swallowed in the hungry night
Through the shadowland
Like a siver band
Got no kind of plan
I ride the border train
Somewhere new to be
Light the way for me
Moon and memories
I ride the border train
There'll come a time
With no goodbyes
When I'll simply grab
That border train
And at journey's end
They will all be real
My lovers and friends
And I swear to God
There's time for me
And I'll live the life I waited for!
Wooo oooo ooo oooo
Wooo oooo ooo oooo
Mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm
I ride the border train
Somewhere new to be
Please light the way for me
Moon and memories
I ride the border train
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mystery Train
Train arrive
Sixteen coaches long.
Train arrive
Sixteen coaches long.
Well that mean old train,
Took my baby;
He's gone.
Train, train
Coming 'round the bend.
Train, train
Coming 'round the bend.
Yeah that mean old evil train
Took my one and only friend.
Train, train
Coming down the line.
Train, train
Coming down the line.
Well that mean old rotten train
Took the only friend of mine.
Train, train
Coming down the track.
Train, train
Coming down the track.
Yeah he took my baby
And he never bring her back, alright.
Whoo, whoo.
Train, train
Come and gone.
Took my baby,
Took my baby,
Took my love
Away...
Well I woke up this morning, yeah.
Nothing on my mind.
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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5. Capital Trip
I remember in the fifties, as we stood there in the rain
On the platform where a porter pulled a trolley
I remember as we waited for the early morning train
Getting soaking wet we wished we’d took a brolly
I remember grubby paint on the bridge across the track
Dark blue signs that showed us all the stations name
I remember postmen rushing with letters in a sack
That they put down in the puddles what a shame
I remember an announcement the ping-pong of a bell
Telling passengers the train was nearly there
I remember those vibrations on my feet so I could tell
Like the others to the distance I should stare
I remember steam clouds rising above a smoking stack
As it thundered down the track towards our stop
I remember stationmaster’s gold braid upon his hat
Calling all the first class forward to the top
I remember its arrival as the doors flung open wide
Leather straps on carriage windows dark brown tan
I remember waving madly with my family by my side
Moving off and how our London trip began
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Train ride
On the rail tracts
trains past one after the other
at speed
and there are crowds
standing on the platform
and people pressing past each other
to get aboard.
I watch the confusion
and on the train
people loose their senses
and they press to seats
right through each other.
A man dressed in a black suit
tries to convert everybody around him
and stand and preach in the aisle,
with the holy book
that he opens at places.
What he is saying
passes me faster
than the scenery at the windows
and I see people unable to forget,
how the city devour their souls
and the man evidently preaches regularly.
Opposite me a man reads the Pretoria News
and a young woman
wants to know the time
while she bends forward
and I am able to see the crevice
between her breasts
and she winks
while the train picks up speed.
“Boy let they just invade my house
and then some shots will ring, ”
an obese man says
who wipes sweat
with a handkerchief from his shining face
and gives biltong
to the people around him.
To the front there’s someone screaming
in a foreign language
and I wonder if someone
is falling from the train
or rather being thrown off,
while the unconcerned conductor
takes the ticket puncher from his pocket.
poem by Gert Strydom
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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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Janice and You at Waterloo Station
At Waterloo Station
the steam engines
puffed powerful steam
reaching up
to the rooftop
and you stood there
hands in your pockets
your nose sniffing in
the white and grey smell
you can taste it
on your tongue
and Janice beside you
her eyes looked up
at the rooftop
as the steam
reached high
her hands clutching
the small bag
I want to be a train driver
when I'm older
you said
I want to smell
that smell
and breathe in
that steam and shovel
coal in the engine
maybe you will
Janice said
maybe you'll be
on a train like that
big and black
and powerful
she put her hand
under your arm
and squeezed
Gran said we can be
what we want
if we want it
bad enough
Janice added
you felt her hand
under your arm
sensed her squeeze it
we went to the seaside
on a big black train
like this last year
you said
and I put my head
out the train window
and my mum said
keep your head in
or a train
will knock it off
that'd be horrible
Janice said
she clutched
closer to you
as the steam train
puffed out more steam
and the sound was loud
and powerful
and she said
maybe
when you're an engine driver
you can take me
to the seaside
with Gran
yes
you said
and if you come
to the engine
before you take off
I can show you
the engine
and how powerful it is
and she smiled
and put her head
on your shoulder
yes
you said softly
when I grow up
and when I am older.
poem by Terry Collett
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Second Class wait here
At suburban railway stations--you may see them as you pass--
there are signboards on the platform saying 'Wait here second class,'
And to me the whirr and thunder and the cluck of running-gear
Seem to be forever saying 'Second class wait here--
Wait here second class
Second class wait here.'
Seem to be forever saying, 'Second class wait here.'
Yes, the second class were waiting in the days of serf and prince,
And the second class are waiting--they've been waiting ever since,
There are gardens in the background, and the line is bare and drear,
Yet they wait beneath a signboard, sneering 'Second class wait here.'
I have waited oft in winter, in the mornings dark and damp,
When the asphalt platform glistened underneath the lonely lamp,
Glistened on the brick-faced cutting 'Sellum's Soap' and 'Blower's Beer,'
Glistened on enamelled signboards with their 'Second class wait here.'
And the others seemed like burglars, slouched and muffled to the throats,
Standing round apart and silent in their shoddy overcoats;
And the wind among the poplars, and the wires that thread the air,
Seemed to be forever snarling, snarling 'Second class wait there.'
Out beyond a further suburb, 'neath a chimney-stack alone
Lay the works of Grinder Brothers, with a platform of their own;
And I waited there and suffered, waited there for many a day,
Slaved beneath a phantom signboard, telling all my hopes to stay.
Ah! a man must feel revengeful for a boyhood such as mine.
God! I hate the very houses near the workshop by the line;
And the smell of railway stations, and the roar of running gear,
And the scornful-seeming signboards, saying 'Second class wait here.'
There's a train, with Death for driver, that is ever going past;
There will be no class compartments when it's 'all aboard' at last
For the long white jasper platform with an Eden in the rear;
And there won't be any signboards, saying 'Second class wait here'
poem by Henry Lawson
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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
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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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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
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trum...trum....Its a Train..! ! !
I love to travel in a train
in a bumping and humping bogie..
A long, beautiful
chugging train
with dad, mom and bro.
I love to travel in a train
that breaks into the platform,
with thundering wheels
and-
a whistle blown
I love to travel in a train
passing through
tunnels-
stretched and curved.
lights off,
howling on,
it is wonderful to be on a train..
I love to travel in a train
and roam all around the world
for ever and ever...
poem by Ananda Gopan
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Platform 33
Platform 33
~
I sit waiting on the platform
Watching lives and souls rattle by
From and to the unknown
So many stories being written
I have forgotten why I wait
Am I due to catch my train
Or greet my love from another
Sat world watching
Noticing moments in others lives
The smiles and laughter
The tears and pain
I am not sure if I am effected
Or just taking notes
Making my own stories
While I wait on the platform
A wind whistles through
A slight chill to the air
I stay sat, watching, waiting
Trying to remember
How I got here
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Electric Train Set
The electric train set
Was laid out upstairs
in a large room
in your cousin’s house.
It compared unfairly
with your own
hand wound train set
at home, shut up in a box.
Your cousin pushed buttons
and the train and carriages
raced around
the long winding track
as you both looked on,
each with your own
deep down thoughts
and boyish dreams.
No labour involved,
no fingers needed
to wind the train,
no small circle
of metal track
as yours had at home,
but a room spread of track
in wider circle
from here, there and back.
You eyed your cousin’s train set
with a mixture
of envy and awe
as you watched it
race speedily around the floor.
poem by Terry Collett
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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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Tea Is A Platform
Tea is a platform
Tea is a platform
Platform to finalise deals
Deals of businesses
Businesses of sale and purchase
Sale and purchase of commodities
Commodities like bullion, cereals, tea
Tea for sale to customers
Customers drink tea at some platform
Tea is a platform
Platform to make friends
Friends to have co-operation
Co-operation to work together
Work together at a platform
Tea is a platform
Platform to deal with spouse
Spouses take tea together
Together to refresh their mood
Fresh moods of spouses
make a platform
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Sun and shadows fall splashing over me
Sun and shadows fall
splashing over me while from work
I take a train home
and some of the windows flash at times
half blinding
in a hell hot summer
and at a platform
where we draw in, you come walking along
dressed in a bright summer dress
very far past pretty
and when you climb in
some of the men are smitten by you
like bees around a flower
but you only look at me
and what made you choose me,
to today I still do not know,
just that we were destined for each other.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Jumping Someone Else's Train
Don't say what you mean
You might spoil your face
If you walk in the crowd
You won't leave any trace
It's always the same
You're jumping someone else's train
It won't take you long
To learn the new smile
You'll have to adapt
Or you'll be out of style
It's always the same
You're jumping someone else's train
If you pick up on it quick
You can say you were there
Again and again and again
You're jumping someone else's train
It's the latest wave
That you've been craving for
The old ideal
Was getting such a bore
Now you're back in line
Going not quite quite as far
But in half the time
Everyone's happy
They're finally all the same
'cause everyone's jumping
Everyone else's train
Jumping someone else's train
Jumping someone else's train
Jumping someone else's train
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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