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Jenny Gordon Mar 2019
...every morning, great is Thy faithfulness."  (Lam 3:22-23)



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCXXXVII)


O hark now as the train's voice rumbles! Pale
Night else is dead asleep til ah, from hence
That warning whistle pierces through suspense;
And I just listen, rolling to avail
Those words across my silent tongue to scale,
Half seeing that mighty being which passes thence
As wont through woods none save the beasts fr'intents
Troll, wondring dimly over which detail?
Ha, I dunno.  Like, since I canna stir
Good slumber now, should I erm, rise and *****
That effort, to ink down this thought?  Tis poor.
Thus roll oer and exhale.  If morn debut
Sans fanfare, say a chance to write in tour
Shall yield that note a voice?  And what is new?

28Feb19a
Trains.   Don't you just love their reality AND the metaphor?  Timing too,...AFTER midnight--what's that signify?
Hunter Green Mar 2019
As the train rolls by,
ground shakes,
the tracks thunder,
and the breaks squeal,
I feel another destination calling from the cars,
I see a place in the windows through the dark.
My dreams seem to convey the same kind of reaction.
A distant location I am carried to through my mind’s locomotion.
Each arrival is just as beautiful as the last, but in turn and as well each arrival is met with an instinctual tinge of pain from the unknown knowledge of swift and soon departure.
I constantly desire a ticket to ride, sometimes I think I find one in different people, which makes it unbearable to let them go when I know how close I am to home.
I just want to ride that train, someone help me find driver.
Arisa Mar 2019
An insect.
That crawls upon my body, except I can't quickly swat it away
Without causing attention to myself
and everyone noticing that my
white ******* are pulled
all the way down
to my ankles.

My lips are dry so I bite them.
Knuckles whitening while I hold onto the grip-strap
And I hear his heavy breathing against my neck.
I look at the tunnels, quickly passing by.
'Maybe this will end fast too?'

Naive of me to think so.

Sliding into my flower
Like a toxic, little aphid.
Stuck on my sticky leaves
As petals are parted and

I pour out of the open doors in Shinjuku station,
And run out, wiping a tear on my sleeve.
I tug up my decency
While I run to the ticket booth.
Angry foreigner was yelling at the old man who sits within.
The clock above strikes eight.
I decide that it's not worth it.
I won't tell anyone.
It doesn't matter.
Could be worse.
It's okay.
I'm okay.







I wasn't okay.
I recall a time where I was molested by a pervert in the trains of Tokyo when I was in middle school.
Hugoose Feb 2019
Not One Hours Rest, Moon Still Standing Nice and Tall

Stars Still Hanging on, You Ride Hazily and Lazily to The City Train Station

Seeing Faces, Seeing Slouched Shoulders, Seeing Tired Eyes all around you

Waiting and Thinking of Home, Observing Yet Constantly Yawning

In No Time You Are Propelled Forwards and Out Through the City Limits

Metal Container Rattling, No Snooze Alarm for the Rising Sun

The City Dissolves into the Back of Your Eyes as You Hit A Tunnel and Enter the Suburban Void

Suddenly Fantastic Splotches of Greenery Drift into Sight, Dabs of Golden Light Float Like Dandelion Spores in The Air

People Move Up and Down the Carriage Schizophrenically, Fidgeting, Never Considering Sitting Still, Not Even Once

Please Just Look Out the Window

Outside Battered Tree Trunks Lay Lifelessly in the Middle of Wondrous Sprawling Fields

Clouds Ripple Insanely Throughout the Horizon, Livestock Enjoying Themselves While They Still Can

What Follows This is a Series of Dilapidated Sheds and Abandoned Roads Leading Up into the Hills so Jagged They Must Have Been Cut by a One Single Colossal Breadknife
mderdun Feb 2019
Train graveyards
Old warehouses
Concrete trees
which double as
slutty shelters
to help the
young women
find their footing
on piano wire
as enchanting
as it is dangerous
because it will constrict your throat
and then what will the ambassador do ?
Colm Feb 2019
Tomorrow is coming, like a train of iron on a track of steel and nothing can stop it.  Nothing that is or ever will be derailed. Tomorrow is coming between friction and steel.
A Train Named Tomorrow
Sharon Talbot Feb 2019
A prim, lavender skirt and a napkin on it,
Tells me this is serious, and I mustn’t
Rain upon it, not say what I think,
And much less what I feel.
You have found a lover
And she isn’t me,
I wish I was an eel
That could glide away
Into the primordial sea.

On second thought, it makes me
Wish that we had never met,
That I’d never looked at you and loved,
Or at least never brought you home.
It was there that it all began;
I assumed your were mine alone,
And now I am empty man.

Oh, my love,
For the first time in my life!
You did this to me,
Without knowing, charmed me
Until I was undone.
But accidents will happen;
It was only hit and run;
Such investigative fun!
Don’t tell the other one I feel this way.

On second thought let him…..
Follow me into danger
Since a gamble is good as a rest,
Or the off chance I’ll get shot.
After all, this admirer’s the best
Of a mediocre lot.

But he knows about me, I’m sure.
He’s gets so little reward,
But takes credit for what I do
And hangs upon my every word.
He listens to me in the dead of night
As you used to do.
It’s comforting that he’s not you.

-Unfinished Lament
Wolf Feb 2019
Seated on a bench
Carved with words
Waiting for the train
To take me away

Somewhere far from
This empty town
The streets are too quiet
Only ghosts remain now

A fireplace flickers
Somewhere down the road
Piercing the night
And the whispering breeze

Cackling relatives
Curious children
The smoke curls
As the sounds fade

Beneath my feet
A deep rumble
The train screeches
To a halt beside me

Mist kisses my cheeks
Before I step into the light
The laughter stings
My scarlet ears

I take a seat
And press against the glass
Breath painting shapes
On the foggy window

I've left the town behind
My home nowhere in sight
I could be going anywhere
Yet I'm headed nowhere
Tiger Striped Jan 2019
I dreamt of two trains running parallel.
They could see each other, hear each other, feel each other, but they could never get any closer or farther apart.
The tracks stretched on for miles and miles and miles with no change in direction in sight.
The trains run together side by side - together, yet lonely.
The trains can only hope that someday, the tracks might bring them closer together.
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