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this must be
the correct train
there was not
another option
it was waiting
        on the expected platform
it departed
        at the expected time
and
it headed
        in the expected direction

despite what I might tell myself
i remain on edge
at every juncture
        of the journey
every announcement
sets me on edge
every stop
sees me checking
        double-checking
that this is
the anticipated station
that i am on course

even when assured
of heading
the right way
there is no relaxation
instead
a countdown is commenced
of each station
to be visited
before reaching
that final destination
as each station
is passed
another count is completed;
numbering
one stop less
than the previous

but still
i will lose track
of where i am
of how far i need to go
panic will set in
blinded by doubts
and undue regrets
i will question
it all
kippi Dec 2021
the locomotive moves steadily across the tracks, puffing thick black smog into the air, never a whine until you pull the breaks.

the great rolling beast carries its prey, flaming fauna displaced from their rocky habitats, that wait to be swallowed up and converted to new life.

the procession of metal bodies traverses across worlds, taking its indomitable wheels into the tundra, the prairie, the urban jungle, at speeds unknown to lesser beings— or even the creators themselves.

but the mighty locomotive does not just conquer mountains and valleys, cities and forests alike.

it takes friends, partners, clients on the journey.

the smallest ones fall into slumber and breathe soundly, blending with the giant’s hum.

as the client’s size increases, their alert eyes dart across the land as the train rips through gravel, rock, and earth; a pasture of horses may be seen and addressed accordingly.

the full grown passenger opens their notebook, jotting down thoughts, identification numbers, budgets, letters, and the like.

they are often the assumed leaders within the belly of the beast, but the train knows of the true captain’s identity.

the final friends to name, the eldest in the cars.

they know the locomotive, being the on its quest across continents, possessing a gentle care with the resting of a hand upon the velvet organs of the beast.

the old ones know the displaced embers, rusted iron bones, cracked glass eyelids, and slowing wheels that come with conquered continents.

so, when the great train creaks to a stop, the elders exist their trusty cars, leave a tip for the porter, and whisper a quiet “thank you” to the train before stepping cautiously onto the oak platform below.

from the locomotive, never a whine, not even to beckon its favorite patrons farewell.
i wrote this while waiting to be picked up from music school lol
Ahmad Attr Oct 2021
I used to love train stations
They gave me the perfect situations
To think about you
Now it’s the exact reason I hate them
I just sit in the corner-most bench
And your thought drops like the first drop of  the rain
Then it is all a downpour from there
I get so lost in you
That I end up staring at my own reflection in my glasses
I try to diffuse it all
By focusing on the crows, the crowds and the cars
But they lead me back to you again
You’re loud like these black birds
I see your face in these crowds
And the cars remind me of your obsession with them
It hurts just to think about you
I check the time again and again
One more station
Till the arrival of my train
So I can escape from here

I used to love trains
They gave me the perfect realm
To think about you
Now it’s the exact reason I hate them
I just sit in the corner-most seat
And your thought drops in as the train starts moving on the track
It harmonizes with the click-click-clacks
I get so lost in you
That I end up staring at my own reflection in the window
I try to succumb to sleep
By listening to songs, with melodies come memories
But they lead me back to you again
Almost like all the songs in the world are about you
You’re my love and my anguish, my inside and out
My first, and my last, like I have turned into nothing but you
It hurts just to think about you
I check the time again and again
One more station
Till I’m home
So maybe I can escape from you

Just maybe…
B Morgan Talbot Sep 2021
When they came down from their disk
With their blinding lights
And their alloy ramps
It quickly became obvious
Unexpectedly, in our hubris,
That they wished only to
Gas up,
Take some pictures of squirrels
And stretch their limbs
Before setting out toward a finer frontier.
Did you hear something about an intergalactic highway being built?
Ashwin Kumar Jun 2021
I deeply miss those days
When I used to travel
Of course, not just by any vehicle
But a vehicle with a thousand wheels
Clattering away on iron rails
Like there is no tomorrow
A vehicle I had fallen for
Hook, line and sinker
Since the age of two
A love that I refuse to let go of
And a love that refuses to let go of me!

I deeply miss those days
When we railfans got together
Not simply to eat and drink
Not simply for some chat-chit
But to follow our passion
And shoot videos of trains
Thundering away into the sunset
Like there is no tomorrow

I deeply miss those days
When we railfans got together
And did train trips using circuitous routes
Akin to moving from the head to the mouth
Via the entire body!

I deeply miss those days
When I used to do solo train trips
On a monthly basis
Sometimes, even twice a month
An ideal way to **** work stress!

I deeply miss those days
When I used to write blogs
About every trip of mine
And post them in IRFCA
The largest association of railfans
At least as far as India is concerned
Including many railway officials
With an encyclopedia of information
About the Indian Railways
Whether it be the locomotive classes
Whether it be the train operations
Whether it be the timetables
Or even the food!

I deeply miss those days
When I used to lie down
Not on a bed, but a berth
And get lulled into sleep
By the gentle swaying motion
The rhythmic clickety clack
And, occasionally
The melodious chugging
Or the mesmerising humming
Of the roaring diesel
Hauling our train
Accompanied by its horn
Which itself, was music to the ears!

I deeply miss those days
When I used to sit on my Side Lower Berth
And watch scenery fly past me
As we traversed the countryside
The villages and the small towns
The cattle, goats and sheep
The farms and paddy fields
The bushes, shrubs and trees
The ponds, lakes and rivers

I deeply miss those days
When I used to travel the Konkan route
Through a plethora of bridges and tunnels
Lakes, rivers and mountains
And a plethora of greenery
Accompanied by the fierce chugging
Of the ALCO engine hauling us
Or the rhythmic humming
Of the EMD engine hauling us
Of course, it was a diesel heaven!

I deeply miss those days
When I used to travel by "toy trains"
Whether it be the Neral-Matheran train
Or the Kalka-Shimla train
Or the Siliguri-Darjeeling train
It was so romantic
The way we crawled
Right through the heart of the mountains
With a plethora of tunnels
Bridges, viaducts and loops
After all the high speed drama earlier
It was a surreal change
Enjoying the scenery at our own pace
While getting overtaken by joggers
And sometimes, even animals!

I deeply miss those days
When I used to get down
As we stopped at a station
One of so many in our journey
And take a walk on the platform
To check out our loco
And sip from a piping hot cup of coffee!

I deeply miss those days
When we travelled in single-line sections
And our train came to a halt
At a nondescript wayside station
With a platform on only one side
And total darkness on the other side!
I waited for the signal on that line
To turn green, after a while
And heard, from a great distance
The horn of an approaching train
Followed by the lamps of its engine
As it proceeded to burn the tracks
And raise a great heap of dust
Thus shattering the calm of the night

I deeply miss even those days
When I used to go to office daily
Commuting by the famous Mumbai locals
As the train pulled into Vikhroli
I staggered into the First class compartment
Packed to the hilt
With pretentious male executives
Filling the air with testosterone
Such that it was quite a challenge
To even inhale the air properly
It was quite a relief
When Dadar arrived
But then came another challenge
The famous changeover
From Central to Western Railway
Across a sea of commuters
Followed by a brief ride
In another train, to Lower Parel
By the time I reached office
I was drenched in sweat
From head to toe
Not to mention, thoroughly fatigued
What to do?
After all, this is what life is
For the average Mumbaikar

I deeply miss those days
When train travel was the norm
Rather than the exception
However, as far as I am concerned
COVID19 may have taken me out of the train
But it certainly can't take the train out of me!
My longest poem, on deeply missing trail travel since the pandemic struck.
undefined May 2021
walking through the dark
on the outskirts of Baton Rouge
just me and a bunch of stars
no one else to talk to

the yard is staging cars
expecting a train
gather my gear
trying to   beat   out   the rain...


wind is a howling
roosters start to crow
6-string on my back
bound for a Houston show

I like the early morning
quiet, dark, and cold
watching for that engine
and   tryin ta breath    real    low...


the "CLASP! of thunderous coupling
"SkReeeech," its time ta go
wind is a rushing
this steel     carries       me       on...
You, you had me hooked from the very first, the very first moment,
Stories of Peter Pan running in my head,
We flew away and had times of the greatest value,
Now here I am, stuck in this tragic place,
Under the ground of a trainstation,
Like the punished soul of that Anna you missed,
A russian girl you'll never forget.

You, you had me hooked from the very beginning,
Our eyes met only for a short recognition,
Only then I knew who she was to you
And what I meant all along.
shipwrecked Nov 2020
i've been jumping in front of trains lately

asking myself if it's really worth the risk

the way a skydiver looks at the ground miles away and wonders if today is the day it doesn't work out

while you're halfway across the country by now, leaving this all behind

i've been jumping in front of trains lately

wondering what the hell it will take for you to see the pain you left inside me

if I could just find the right thing to prove to you that I'm dying

maybe then you'd come back home
11/12/20 | 2:47pm
Waiting for the trains.
Waiting for the feelings.
Waiting for that, rush.
And something new.
Such dark nights,
I can't see,
But I still keep waiting
For the trains and the feelings
I'm still waiting
pilgrims Oct 2020
Rickity-tickity-clak. Onomatopoeia for a bygone age.
Soon the distinct, sometimes irritating/sometimes soothing signals
of a box sailing along a track will be stuck in the past.
A vintage sound.
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