The Speculators
The night was stormy and dark,
The town was shut up in sleep:
Only those were abroad who were out on a lark,
Or those who'd no beds to keep.
I pass'd through the lonely street,
The wind did sing and blow;
I could hear the policeman's feet
Clapping to and fro.
There stood a potato-man
In the midst of all the wet;
He stood with his 'tato-can
In the lonely Hay-market.
Two gents of dismal mien,
And dank and greasy rags,
Came out of a shop for gin,
Swaggering over the flags:
Swaggering over the stones,
These shabby bucks did walk;
And I went and followed those seedy ones,
And listened to their talk.
Was I sober or awake?
Could I believe my ears?
Those dismal beggars spake
Of nothing but railroad shares.
I wondered more and more:
Says one—'Good friend of mine,
How many shares have you wrote for,
In the Diddlesex Junction line?'
'I wrote for twenty,' says Jim,
'But they wouldn't give me one;'
His comrade straight rebuked him
For the folly he had done:
'O Jim, you are unawares
Of the ways of this bad town;
I always write for five hundred shares,
And THEN they put me down.'
'And yet you got no shares,'
Says Jim, 'for all your boast;'
'I WOULD have wrote,' says Jack, 'but where
Was the penny to pay the post?'
'I lost, for I couldn't pay
That first instalment up;
But here's 'taters smoking hot—I say,
Let's stop, my boy, and sup.'
And at this simple feast
The while they did regale,
I drew each ragged capitalist
Down on my left thumbnail.
Their talk did me perplex,
All night I tumbled and tost,
And thought of railroad specs,
And how money was won and lost.
'Bless railroads everywhere,'
I said, 'and the world's advance;
Bless every railroad share
In Italy, Ireland, France;
For never a beggar need now despair,
And every rogue has a chance.'
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Related quotes
When I received the Nobel Prize, the only big lump sum of money I have ever seen, I had to do something with it. The easiest way to drop this hot potato was to invest it, to buy shares. I knew that World War II was coming and I was afraid that if I had shares which rise in case of war, I would wish for war. So I asked my agent to buy shares which go down in the event of war. This he did. I lost my money and saved my soul.
Albert Szent-Gyorgyi in The Crazy Ape
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Railroad
Up each morning at five oclock,
Seem like the noon-day sun aint never gonna stop.
The work is hard in a railroad yard,
Hey, hey, gotta make it today to punch a time card.
Workin on the railroad.
Chorus
Oh, you know, the railroad is a mighty good line,
Come on and ride the railroad, one more time.
Oh, you know, the railroad is a mighty good line,
Come on and ride the railroad, one more time.
Dirt and sweat, runnin down my back,
Workin on the railroad.
Work all day long up and down the railroad tracks.
Workin on the railroad.
Im a God fearing man, and with many I stand,
Workin on the railroad.
And with God weve been working, all hand in hand.
Workin on the railroad.
Chorus
Oh, you know, the railroad is a mighty good line,
Workin on the railroad.
Come on and ride the railroad, one more time.
Workin on the railroad.
Oh, you know, the railroad is a mighty good line,
Come on and ride the railroad, one more time.
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Railroad Days
Jan would climb up so high on the foul screen
Down below I would yell to watch out
When we'd play ? was always the winner
He was brave never listened to me shout
Afternoons playin' ball by the old wall
Hidin' out and of course be the star
Kept my records in old looseleaf notebooks
And today I think I still know where they are
Oh, Railroad days
Railroad days
Railroad days
When I was young, in my prime
On my way
When the rain never got in my way
oh in my younger railroad days
Some nights, Drifters playin' on the hi-fi
Talkin' 'bout girls, or preposterous lies
Laughin hard, watchin' Soupy at eleven
Skonkin' down, one of Mom's lemon pies
Ten o'clock, bringin' groceries from the market
Singin songs, to the darkness of the night
Even sang the parts the instruments were playing
Life was freer, dreams were really quite all right
Oh, Railroad days
Railroad days
Railroad days
When the sun seemed to smile on it's way
When the darkness was easier to play yeah
oh in my younger railroad days
Yesterday, I heard they shut the trains down
The ones than ran, by the field where I would play
Said the folks want new and faster transportation
It's just like me, I'll be obsolete one day
Oh, Railroad days
Railroad days
Railroad days
When I was young, in my prime
On my way
When the rain never got in my way
oh in my younger railroad days
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jack
Jack was a swarthy, swaggering son-of-a-gun.
He worked thirty years on the railroad, ten hours a day, and his hands were tougher than sole leather.
He married a tough woman and they had eight children and the woman died and the children grew up and went away and wrote the old man every two years.
He died in the poorhouse sitting on a bench in the sun telling reminiscences to other old men whose women were dead and children scattered.
There was joy on his face when he died as there was joy on his face when he lived—he was a swarthy, swaggering son-of-a-gun.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Bye Bye Johnny
She drew out all her money out of the southern trust
And put her little boy aboard a greyhound bus
Leaving louisiana for the golden west
Down came the tears from her happiness
Her own little son name o johnny b. goode
Was gonna make some motion pictures out in hollywood
Bye, bye, bye, bye
Bye, bye, bye, bye
Bye bye johnny
Good bye johnny b. goode
She remembered taking money out from gathering crop
And buying johnnys guitar at a broker shop
As long as he would play it by the railroad side
And wouldnt get in trouble he was satisfied
But never thought that there would come a day like this
When she would have to give her son a goodbye kiss
Going
Bye, bye, bye, bye
Bye, bye, bye, bye
Bye bye johnny
Good bye johnny b. goode
She finally got the letter she was dreaming of
Johnny wrote and told her he had fell in love
As soon as he was married he would bring her back
And build a mansion for em by the railroad track
So every time they heard the locomotive roar
Theyd be a standin, a wavin by the kitchen door
Howling
Bye, bye, bye, bye
Bye, bye, bye, bye
Bye bye johnny
Good bye johnny b. goode
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boomers Story
(traditional, adapted by ry cooder)
Come and gather all around me
Listen to my tale of woe
Got some good advice to give you
Lots of things you oughta know
Take a tip from one whos travelled
And never stopped a-ramblin round
cause once you get the roamin fever
You never want to settle down, boy
You never want to settle down
I met a little gal in frisco
And I asked her to be my wife
Told her I was tired of roamin
Goin to settle down for life
Then I heard the whistle blowin
And I knew it was the red ball train
And I left that gal beside the railroad
And I never saw the gal again, boy
I never saw the gal again
Saw the gal again
I never saw the gal again
Left that gal beside the railroad
And I never saw the gal again
Travelled all over the country
Ive travelled everywhere
I been on every branch line railroad
And I never paid a nickel fare
I been from maine to californy
And from canada to mexico
I never tried to save no money
And now I got no place to bo, boy
Now I got no place to go
Listen to a boomers story
Pay attention to what I say
Well, I hear another train a-comin
Guess Ill be on my way
If you wanna do me a favor
When I lay me down and die
Just dig my grave beside the railroad
So I can hear the trains go by, boys
So I can hear the trains go by
Hear the trains go
Hear the trains go by
Just dig my grave beside the railroad
So I can hear the trains go by
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Railroad Bill
Railroad bill were gonna railroad bill
He never works and he never will
Im gonna ride on a railroad bill
Im gonna ride on a railroad bill
Railroad bill he was a mighty bad man
Kill anybody that he think he can
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Im singin railroad bill,
Im talkin railroad bill, uh-huh-huh
He never worked and he never will
Im gonna ride on railroad bill, yeah
(cmon) Im gonna ride on railroad bill
Well old railroad bill he done stole my wife
Im gonna check him down Im gonna take his life
Gonna ride on railroad bill
Gonna ride railroad bill
Im singin railroad bill
On a railroad bill
He never worked and he never will
Im gonna ride on railroad bill
Im gonna ride on railroad bill
Railroad bill he was a mighty bad man
Kill anybody that he think he can
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Gonna ride railroad bill
Im talkin railroad bill
I love him railroad bill
Uh-huh-huh
He never worked and he never will
Gonna ride on railroad bill
Yeah, gonna ride on railroad bill
Well Im goin up the mountain
Yes Im goin out west
I got a mighty big pistol
Stickin out of my vest
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Gonna ride (alright)
Railroad bill, I love that railroad bill
Uh-huh-huh
He never works and he never will
Im gonna ride on a railroad bill
Im gonna ride on railroad bill
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Railroad
Im packin my bags and goin home
I been here too long
So happy , Ill get there on my own , mmm..
Been here for reasons right or wrong
So Im packin my bag and Im gettin home
So Ill walk by the railroad anytime, anytime
Walk by the railroad anytime
Tell my brother and my sister that evrythings gone wrong
But Im walkin by that railroad till Im home
Theres been lies told in my story
But aint juiced none of that glory
But still, I served my time
And theres no use in cryin
cause Im walkin by that railroad till Im home
So Ill walk by the railroad anytime , anytime
Walk by the railroad anytime
Tell my women that I missed her
That I cant wait to kiss her
So Im walkin by that railroad till Im home
Yes Ill walk by the railroad anytime , anytime
Walk by the railroad anytime
Tell my women that I missed her
And I cant wait to kiss her
cause Im walkin by that railroad till Im home
Yes Im walkin by that railroad till Im home
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Railroad Man
I feel like an old railroad man
Ridin' out on the Bluemont Line
Hummin' along Old Dominion Blues
Not much to see, and not much left to lose
And I know I can walk along the tracks
It may take a little longer
But I know how to find my way back
I feel like an old railroad man
Who's really tried the best that he can
To make his life add up to something good
But this engine no long burns on wood
And I guess I may never understand
The times that I live in
Are not made for a railroad man
I feel like an old railroad man
Gettin' on board at the end of an age
The station's empty and the whistle blows
Things are faster now
This train is just too slow
And I know I can walk along the tracks
It may take a little longer
But I know how to find my way back
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Was Nothing Left To Write
THERE WAS NOTHING LEFT TO WRITE
There was nothing left to write
Everything had already been written
And was being written over again and again
By thousands elsewhere-
There was nothing left to write
And nothing new to say -
And no need for anything he had to give-
It was over for him as a writer
Whether he accepted it or not-
No one would ever need or want anything he could do again-
And so when he despite all this still wrote
It seemed to many simply pathetic-
The obsessive reflex of an already lost soul-
Who wrote and wrote and wrote
Who writes and writes and writes
Who cannot stop
However senseless all he does, is.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I've Often Been Alone
God is always close to me
And speaks words of comfort;
I've often been alone, but never lonely.
The Lord walks with me each day
His footprints next to mine;
I've often been alone, but never lonely.
The Holy Spirit shares my grief
My heart's many pains;
I've often been alone, but never lonely.
When I pass the veil of death
And see my Saviour's face;
I'll no longer be alone, and never lonely.
Galatians 6: 4
poem by Richard Merrell
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Lonely Wind
When I'm needin' a friend I can talk to the wind
God I sure am glad that I found him
Sometimes he seems to be the only one beside me
Who can feel the Lord's breath all around him
Winter's cold frozen ice or a bright autumn day
On a warm summer night you can hear him say
Cry for me, sigh for me, sad breezes flow
Stay for me, play for me, the song my friends will know
My lonely wind must blow
Mighty friend that is mine, can you give me a sign?
He'll leave nothing but only to hear him
I've seen the tall trees bend low when his mighty winds blow
And that's all the more reason I fear him
Hear him call for the earth lonely I can feel his great pain
But on the eve of this day
I'll join in his refrain
When I'm needing a friend I'll remember the wind
And my life here with the breezes of sorrow
I'll be leaving him soon 'cause I've got to make room
For the lonely that will find him tomorrow
On a black stormy night in your bosom I'll cling
And I'll know I've found love and the last song we'll sing
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You wander as a lonely
Each day you wake up with a frown
Rumours keep spreading around town
That you’re suffering a mental breakdown
A solitary walk you walk
A lonely talk you talk
As you wander as a lonely
You wander as a lonely at night
You wander as a lonely on sight
You wander as a lonely at day
You wander as a lonely and pray
You wander as a lonely each day
Slow down, slow down
Shut down, shut down
Shutdown the lonely before you drown
Embrace your friends with warmth
They can give you assistance
Deliver you from your lonely existence
You keep fighting love
Bending it around like a curve
With your glowering face
Reserving only a lonely place,
Halting happiness to arrive in your life
Do you ever stop to wonder?
Do you ever stop to ponder?
Are you the reason for the lonely blunders?
Slow down, slow down
Shut down, shut down
Remove from your head that lonely crown
You wander endlessly as a lonely
Searching for a spot called homely
But your face is missing that vital smile called lovely
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.com
Check out my latest 'Justice & If I were a girl'
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Share
Whether you have a million shares or one share,
You share in life’s the same.
You share some of its benefits
As well as some of its blame.
The real difference for you is if you share your share.
That will decide if your life really has been fair.
Be it a million shares or one share, your responsibility
Is to find here on earth where you can share
For your share of eternity.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Cross The River
A hot cloud was hangin'around
We were a rowdy crowd
Drinkin'beer and smokin' at the end of the pier
Danny was shufflin' through a magazine
Clippin'out pictures of a car
To get us out of here
Laura was hounding him to get a bike
Warning him the time was now
Or he'd be out on his ear, she'd disappear
If only we could cross the river
We couldn't get a jump-start on life
The whispers across the Hudson
Grow louder in our ears
Louder in our ears every night
We were all somewhat out of school
Jersey by birth, relaxing but not on a holiday
An appalling amount of time spent at the mall
Not a tragedy, but not exactly the Milky Way
Looking for a bigger laugh, a better store,
A cutter guy, a shorter working day, better pay
If only we could cross the river
We couldn't get a jump-start on life
The whispers across the Hudson
Grow louder in our ears
Louder in our ears
Louder in our ears every night
When Laura and Danny broke up
She set her sights on Billy Stone
Well, I had just split from Jonathan
So by chance, I was all alone
Danny and I got along as well
We spent hours on the phone
Just talkin'on the phone
When I was twenty and crazy as a joke
I went to bed with a broker
When I was broke
I got used to doormen and limousines
And Christmas cards from friends signed by a machine
And woman, they were calling me "Ma'am"
As they cleaned up after me
If only we could cross the river
But something is holding us back
A way of life that's too familiar
Like the lines are to the railroad track
If only we could cross the river
We couldn't get a jump-start on life
The whispers across the Hudson
Grow louder in our ears
Louder in our ears every night
Dear Laura, I know it's been years
Since I crossed the bridge back to the Palisades
How are your kids?
Mine are both swell little fellas
Here are some clippings of me and Brad
At a charity ball and a White House sup
I've perfected my smile for the camera
Chin is up
I miss you all so much
If only I could cross the river
But something me holding us back
A way of life that's too familiar
Like the lines are to the railroad
Lines are to the railroad
If only we could cross the river
We couldn't get a jump-start on life
The whispers across the Hudson
Grow louder in our ears
Louder in our ears
If only we could cross the river
But something is holding us back
A way of life that's too familiar
Like the lines are to the railroad
Lines are to the railroad
Railroad track
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Linda Song
Music: Barry Manilow
Lyrics: Enoch Anderson
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He never wrote a song for Linda
He wrote as though he lived alone
He wrote of dreams that end
And of sad brave men
Inventing worlds he'd never known
But he never wrote a song for Linda
And she was right there all along
Loved him back to life
When his luck ran low
But he never wrote a Linda song
He nearly broke his heart at writing
Linda kept him from despair
Standin' by his side
through the hungry days
But he hardly seemed to see her there
And he never wrote a song for Linda
And she was right there all along
The one real thing in his crazy world
And he never wrote a Linda song.
When the bills piled up
He couldn't pay
He couldn't dream no more
So he hitched a ride and he rode away
And he left a note for Linda by the door
By the door
When times got rough he'd phone her
Once or twice she took the call
Then she changed her number and she turned her head
And Linda never looked back at all
He'll never write a song for Linda
And she was right there all along
All he knows is no one understands
And he never wrote a Linda song
No he never wrote a Linda song
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Finding Chicago
I wanted to write poetry like Carl Sandburg.
I wanted to write about big cities and small towns,
about open prairies and rivers in the sky.
I wanted to write about the people:
plumbers, politicians, poets,
but I’d never been east of Tucson.
So I quit my dead end job,
closed out my savings account, all 600 dollars,
and went to Chicago in search of a poem.
Chicago—City of the Big Shoulders, wrote Sandburg.
But I couldn’t find it.
I found Chicago falling down around an old black man
leaning on his battered bass case, the way you lean
on a friend when you’re in need. And Thomas Jefferson
Brown was a man in need, shoulders sagging under
the weight of six decades of back alley blues bars
and his thirst for blended whiskey.
Chicago—Player with Railroads and the Nation’s Freight Handler,
wrote Sandburg.
But I couldn’t find it.
I found Chicago in a rusted heap of railroad cars, twisted
tracks and 55 gallon drums where bums built their fires.
Factories and warehouses empty, workers sitting in nearby
bars drinking beer, expecting checks at the end of the week.
Chicago—Stormy, husky, brawling, wrote Sandburg.
But I couldn’t find it.
I found Chicago shimmering in the shadows of towering
concrete, steel and glass along 32nd Street, poets reading
in bookstores and coffee houses, children marching
to museums, women with slim hips in black silk gowns,
men in tuxedos and Italian shoes, dressed for the theater.
I wanted to write poetry like Sandburg.
But I couldn’t find his Chicago.
poem by Clifton King
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An Apology To Dr. Clayton, Bishop Of Killala, And His Lady
My Lord of Killala, I find to my Sorrow,
I can't have the Honour I hop'd for, Tomorrow.
But why I'm so wretched, my Friend must rehearse;
For I never can write my Vexations in Verse.
Disappointments are sent to poor Mortals to show,
'Tis in vain to expect to be happy below.
Yet you've a fair Prospect, it must be confess'd,
Who with Fortune, and Station, and Delia are bless'd;
With Delia, whose Soul is so fitted for you,
Who shares, with such Pleasure, the Good which you do;
Who visits your See with far other Designs,
Than conning your Rent--rolls, and raising your Fines.
No longer let Rome her old Argument boast,
That by Marriage the End of the Priesthood is lost;
That, toil'd and entangled in Family Cares,
The Clergy forget their celestial Affairs:
For, had she known Delia, she must have confess'd,
That the Church, in the Marriage of Prelates, was bless'd.
poem by Mary Barber
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And What Have You To Say?
I MIND the days when ladies fair
Helped on my overcoat,
And tucked the silken handkerchief
About my precious throat;
They used to see the poet’s soul
In every song I wrote.
They pleaded hard, but I had work
To do, and could not stay
I used to work the whole night through,
And what have you to say?
’Twas clever, handsome woman then,
And I their rising star;
I could not see they worshipped me,
Because I saw too far.
(’Tis well for one or two, I think,
That things are as they are.)
(I used to write for writing’s sake,
I used to write till day,
I loved my prose and poetry,
And what have you to say?)
I guess if one should meet me now
That she would gasp to think,
She ever knew a thing like me,
As down the street I slink,
And trembling cadge from some old pal
The tray-bit for a drink.
I used to drink with gentlemen
To pass an hour away:
I drink long beers in common bars,
And what have you to say?
But often, in the darkest night
(And ’tis a wondrous thing)—
When others see the devils dance,
I hear the angels sing,
And round the drunkard’s lonely bed
Heaven’s nurses whispering.
I wrote for Truth and Right alone,
I wrote from night till day;
I’ll find a drunken pauper grave,
And what have you to say?
Good night!
Good day!
My noble friends,
And what have you to say?
poem by Henry Lawson
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I Weep I Weep - For The Lost Poem!
I weep I weep - for the lost poem!
I wrote it in the night
I wrote it in despair
When to my beating mind
There was no light.
I lament for the lost poem!
Was it torn? If no, where lies it?
I wrote it in despair
And now like a lost sheep
I fetch it.
How time passes!
How the black hair
To more graying hair
Will turn!
And in the meantime
My poem my lost poem
I rue.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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