Sun and sea. The best combination.
Warm sunshine gently plays with the surface of dark, salty water.
As my train quickly passes tunnels, the sunshine bounces back at me each time one ends and the other begins.
Blinded for few seconds I smile at the warmth I receive through the dusty window I sit next to...

I sat on this train for one reason...
I wanted to get away from this muddy season,
To get away from these many people,
Sick surroundings and daily fever.
I wish this train had no destination
Just let me stay here and travel ages...
Tell me. Please tell me the name of desired station.
My type of travelling creates new pages...
Train stops. One more sensation.
Ghost town. Forever forgotten...
Should I stay here or travel further?
Sea glimmers. How not to sink right to the bottom?
Engine starts again. Moving faster.
I remembered days with my dear father
I am just like him...The Journey Lover...

I've got a name and its Adventure Seeker.
The closer I am to things I love, I get so much weaker.
Smell of the breeze, old books, fir needles,
Moist after rain, rain droplets,
The sound of fire, cracking noise...
Heartbeat...quicker and quicker
Forest and fog my A.L.W.A.Y.S choice
To be found or lost?!
Excitement grew bigger.
I am euphoric when I travel places
New station..one last destination..new blurry faces....
Flashing lights,
Damp nights.
Dark skies,
Billion stars.
****** moon,
Thoughts doomed.
No humanity, no regrets.
One-on-one with nature and its threats.

I've got a name and its Adventure Seeker,
Prefer outskirts over sin cities,
Keep no secrets, but a passion keeper.
Civilisation- long time dead lilies.

I took this train for one and only reason,
To get away from this deadly prison...

I ponder what my parents told me,
“The light in your eyes is back.”
Not because I am happy,
(or sober…)

Its because I stare at the dimly lit skyline
In the City of Brotherly Love,
In a melancholy manner.

While I could make some cliché allegory
Of a cigarette being another source of faint luminescence.

But I am a college student,
A speck of a presence drowning in dimwits,
With such bright futures ahead!
(Along with a large sum of debt.)

So while I sit and stare
At the city lights,
Soaking in suicidal thoughts at the SEPTA station.

Remember the light in my eyes
Is a reflection of those city lights.
Dimly lit,
Not aflame.
I have no one but myself to blame.

how scared you must be
to be exposed to the elements
with all your windows broken in
and all alone

Spiral of fate foreseen
A Vegas winning sure thing
A journey to realms beyond
Where those already gone
Traveled before I
With letters sent home
still left unseen
Wait, I'm not ready!
Is there another?
This train came too soon!
Excuse me,
I'll wait for the slow train!
Can I exchange my ticket?
For a later departure?
Perhaps tomorrow?
Of course tomorrow,  
Can never be!  
Round trip ticket please!
I wish to not be gone long!
I must return, otherwise,
who will care for the wee ones!  
Wait, I still must pack!
All my silver and gold
Can I bring?  
Is First Class an option?
A sleeper car?
Bring any friends?
My loved ones
should meet me
after reaching the end!
Must I board,
This train?
An evil angel at the controls
in the locomotive's cab
steam billowing all around
conductor in a ghastly robe
bearing the cutting scythe
leaning out the door
shouting out
to the platform crowd
"All aboard!"
"All aboard!"
this train
always runs on time
and no one ever
gets left behind
except perhaps a few
entering heaven alive
first stop is Sh'eol
all disembarking to wait
then chugging on to the
station with pearly gates  
those remaining aboard
catching a glimpse
then fast downhill all the way
to the end of the line
the last stop of Abaddon

©  2017 Jim Davis

Trapped inside this stinking train
People off from work, off from class
Too much crowd, heating arguments
It's not their land, so no trouble here
Step aside, we are the locals here
Give not a chance, a politician barked
Who do you keep your respect for, huh?
Another lane, another sinking ship

Just a drop of whisky will cheer him up
He believed in it, poured a quarter cup
Tasted good, felt better, lightened head
Some dark grapes for a touch, he said
He looked around, saw me staring at him
All this people worried about the whining
Sparked from his friend, just for a seat
He had to cool the heat down for now

chapped lips in the underground.
cream skin with Blue eyes
held red bars closer than me.
This is erratic.
Listening to screeching underfoot
To drown out
blonde wild winds
a cyclone
to taste the sky.
It was far too brief.
come back.

The urban legend going round the mummy club
A woman
On a tube
Breastfeeding her baby, 5 months old, under her t shirt.
Not **** out
No feminist flags waving
No brazen cocky smile.
Just a hungry baby and a mother made by nature
And some milk

"Put em away Love", slurs an ugly man halfway down the carriage.
The other passengers are divided.
Some sink deeper into their headphones, under their broadsheets.
The others are ready for revolution, sit up straighter and plan an attack phrase or a protective move.

But this is what she's been waiting for since she so triumphantly became a successful, proud breastfeeder.

With a wet plucking noise she pulls her baby from the ****** where he was so contentedly feeding, where his warm little head was halfway to milky coma dreamland.
And she holds him aloft, her grip is confident and full. No one is afraid she will drop him, but he does not want to be there.
And in the stark light of the carriage, arms and legs chilly and free in the air he begins to flail them about. His voice throws out mews to every window of the carriage, turning into scratchy shouts as his protest gets stronger.
Until the baby, in a blue furry jumper, little bear ears for cute effect, is screaming.
Red faced, and with tonsils and tongue vibrating in the storm of his voice.
Arms and legs swimming frantically, looking for the bank of the river where warm mummy sits.
And over the storm, mummy looks over at the swaying, squinting man and shouts,
"WOULD YOU PREFER THIS?"
In one movement she cradles the yelling blue cub, shushing and quietly speaking to him as only a mother can, offering her ****** to his mouth until his round fuzzy head is bobbing and his mouth quietly busy resuming his meal.
"Or this? " She looks over at him.

The man mutters to himself and looks away. At the next stop he gets off the train, tripping down the step onto the platform.

The mother releases the challenge in one large breath.

She looks up at the two young men sat in front of her.
They are smiling, staring in awe. Choking and speechless one of them starts to applaud her.
Clapping her and shaking his head, his mate joins in.

A boy on the train ran his fingers through his hair in the same way you used to. It was nice to remember... and then it wasn't.