Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
L Oct 2018
What good is it to want things.
So much longing.
So little input.
Mygreatestescape Sep 2018
In the morning when
I have spent myself,
I am serene like
a hurricane,
--(I will call myself
Katrina)
a giant conspiracy
of lovers,
I took a step
without any feet,
the preacher
speaks of god,
of a childhood innocence
that was lost before
it begun,
the stillness of
the soul,
living in the
abyss of
my loneliness,
I cannot believe in
a god that lets
the world rot,
that lets flies die on windowsills,
but yet I believe in
a beloved that
makes me sweep
the ground,
stoop till my back aches,
who looks at me
without any eyes,
and brings tears
to mine,
everything that I ever
loved grows like
flowers
when I see this beloved,
if I know of love
--like a child,
I only know through
my beloved,


and yet,

yet  

    yet


god is a tattered
coat that my grandmother
wears,

to have you listen
to me -- that is my beloved,

spilling my tears onto
ginseng leaves,
dust gathers
like grime,
a second layer of skin,
watching Aphrodite rise
from homes riddled
by lust,

this whole nation cursed,
and yet here is mecca (Medina)
here is Bethlehem
where apples grow freely,
and Eden lies north,
where money rains onto
nudists,

here lives the prowling
sphinx,
here Thebes rises
from the gold dust of
the Sahara ,
her salivating tongue
licks up our dissent,
and our leaders
drags Artemis by
her hair,
the sinners of
earthly lust,
Lucifer wears
armani suits
and defiles cherubs,

they have lit our
children on fire,
and have called
it a sacrifice,
we watched kindness
fall into the deep marrows
of the Styx,

living in a nation
of free will,
undressed free
will and
ravished her against her
will,

my beloved
who wears my anger
like furs,
and milks the world
like a daunting king.
suis-je en train de mourir? - Am I dying?
Juhlhaus Apr 3
Fingers on the rails can feel
The pulse of steel and diesel
Engines, the working muscles
And sinews of a continent.
Ten thousand horses throb the air
And bear down on a mile of freight.
It rolls by like thunder
Under a clear blue sky, stirs the soul
With memories of lonely whistles
In the night, a desert wind, mystery lights;
When little fingers at the open window
First felt the pulse of steel and diesel,
A million iron miles ago.
For my father who loved trains from childhood and worked forty years on the railroad, traveling approximately five million miles by rail during his career.
ryn Sep 2014
Doom train hurtling along
Through the fog in my mind
Towing freight, rectangular and oblong
Dim headlights, you're travelling blind

Five carriages long, excluding engine and caboose
Metal against metal, spitting sparks on steel
Undetermined path, rails will choose
Chugging along on dirt covered wheels

In the cabin, I see the light
Emanating from your furnace
Swallowing up coals in your gaping bite
Tongues of flames licking the surface

Fire breathing, spewing thick black smoke
Almost unseen, against the dark of night
A long plumy arm as if extending to choke
And plug the remaining sources of light

Meandering precariously on tracks that weave
Over uncharted, unfathomable terrain
Your store, so reliably you heave
Worming your way through my brain

What's in that cargo of yours?
What lies within those boxcars?
What drives you to diligently run your course?
What fuels you to travel near and far?

Loads of self pity, self loathing and self reproach
Snaking your way to an unknown destination
Screeching brakes as if a stop you approach
Herald the train of dubious intentions

Light is upon you, dark will dissipate
Your plumes starting to lessen from your stack
The dawn breaking horizon you didn't anticipate
To see another charging towards you on this very same track...
See "Light Train"
See "Collision Course"
pk tunuri Jun 2018
To see more and more
Every time, I used to sit at the train door!!
I didn't capture this imagery before
So, I kept my eyes wide open to store!!

Well, I must agree
You'll get to see
Wide angled views for free
All that I can recapture is a tree
And, It never stops surprising me
Meanwhile, the people who come to ***

Will mistake me for a *******
Thinking that I'd jump off to make my life Departed!!
They'll try hard to get me safe Guarded
Finally, they'll close the door and have me Discarded!!
Zell Sep 2017
On the other side of the tracks, you smiled.
My train arrived before i could return the gesture.
I decided to stand by and just wait for another.
To see your face once more before we part ways again.
But the moment the train moved, yours arrived.
And you, you took the train and i missed mine.
All for the sake of you, here i am waiting again.
© 2017 D.A. Barreras
Abby Mendoza Apr 2017
to that bespectacled beauty
whom i fell in love with on the train
i wish i could've told you how i felt
i wish i could've held your hands
before you alight the train.

-a.m.
for my crush ****
ryn Sep 2014
Light train chugging, working to outrun
Over exerting, pulling along your freight
Sand is running out under the diminishing sun
Fastidiously you tug on your enormous weight

Segmented equal in seven hulking proportions
Weaving between sleeping rocky giants
Assertion in your drive gifted from the high heavens
Borne of light your cargo load of tenants

Silver blurred rays glinting back as reply
As you power your way through
Defying seconds, before the last rays should die
Against odds, delivering what is due

Questing to alleviate my inflicted darkness
Spear of brilliance slicing through my mind
Illuminating the farthest and tiniest of crevices
Nook and crannies that willed me blind

Careful manoeuvring to keep your balance
Through scenic views fraught with treachery
Furiously working to keep your cadence
Hopeful of unloading the load you carry

What lies dormant in that cargo of yours?
What sleeps easy within those boxcars?
What stokes the fire to diligently run your course?
What promises you bear, travelling near and far?

Bales of hope and crates of strength
Supplies of kindness and self-worth
Reside within your immense length
Intact and lay quiet within your formidable girth

Reliant on the light that fuels and feeds
Your axles seem tireless guiding forth those wheels
Thundering over land with the power of a thousand steeds
Armed to your teeth with alloys and steels

Expelling grit and dirt as you pummelled across
Grey-white fumes, shoot up to the sky
Flag flogged by wind, billow and toss
Blaring your whistle as you race on by

Propelling forward, horizon up ahead
There it is...in all its tenebrous glory
Darkened locomotive seething mad with dread
Brace for the clash and the loads the two carry
See "Doom Train"
See "Collision Course"
Deborah Birch Nov 2011
One day I rode upon an Autumn train.
The sky was slate, the wind was cold and blue.
I saw stark trees and brilliant leaves and rain,
and yet I only thought again of you.
I'd come out on this trip to hide myself.
I thought I'd not be found right in plain sight.
Music I had, and earbuds from the shelf,
I soothed myself with them all through the night.
And when the morning came, all cloudy cold;
all still and sad and broken I became.
For in my heart, I'd suddenly grown old
and all I'd left to whisper was your name.
I droppped my hat down low upon my eyes,
and hid in Love's most distressing disguise.
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
I was a dog, I was a plane, and then I became insane,
I blew my top, a volcano as a prop, and found out
There awaits a train. It took me places far and wide,
It showed me mountains, what's inside, It gave me
A place to go each year, and it left me Mad ness
Death, and fear. I'll never outgrow my random poem,
Bit by tidbit you should be careful, I'll warn you of this
Only once, you shouldn't EVER read it all alone!
I actually had to type to write this, hope you like it!
Peter B Sep 2018
He passed away in 1791,
aged thirty five.
He never saw a car,
never heard a noise of a machine.
His lungs
never breathed a smog.

He didn't wait
for the industrial revolution,
wild capitalism
and their awful consequences.

He left much earlier,
saving his senses
from the ugliness of the world,

from the unpleasant times,
which were soon to come.

He didn't die,
he only withdrew
from the end of the world.
trf Nov 2018
a hundred years of rain
drops down the tall, tilted rooftop
towards the porous landscape below,
as love soaks, the dust settles.

dreams of fluid summers
in the nineteen hundreds,
children's laughter echoing
through candle lit halls of timber,
front porch rocking chairs squeaking
after grandpa's dinner
where this happy home
is a dream you'll remember.
Lone Luna Mar 2016
Poems, you will never know when it will come to you
It will hit you right then and there
Like thunders and flashes of lightning
You got to be prepared
But you can never be prepared
It will be as if time halted and all you can ever do is stand still
As the words pour out of your mind
Helplessly you are struggling to put them back
So you can remember everything when you write them down
Poems, it is a long train of thought on a winding rail
It will be impossible to jump out of it
And you will never jump out of it
Because it's a quicksand, all you can do is sink, sink, sink
But what you will realize
Is that, after all the empty drafts and coffee mugs
You've just created something that might change the world
Then you should know it's all worth it
Luna
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
Before I knew it I darted towards her like a train.
Barreling toward her fast as I could.
Inhaling deep, releasing deep huff.
The rumble of what came to be manifested before I was seen.
The notion of steam clouds and rod hot like iron.
Darting past the station.
Caution thrown to the wind in a solid fluid motion.
The rumble of my heart lead the way.
Stead fast, the scenery of steeping in front of emotion.
Track after track.
Winding and twisting with nothing to block the way.
I shot into a tunnel.
Stepping head first into what I have always known.
The express route to desire.
To inhale in ultimate asphyxiation.
The next station miles and miles away.
We were punctual.
Breaking down in deep huff.
Trails of smoke funnel where I lost my breath
elizabeth Jun 16
i cried today for the first time since i moved to the city

i cried on the subway

it was nowhere near as glamorous as the movies make it out to be
the lighting was fluorescent  
and a homeless man begged for change
the air felt stale and i could smell the banana a toddler was eating across the aisle from me

i don’t cry beautifully
the tears came out in a heavy stream
and stained the collar of my white t-shirt
i knew my carefully shaped eyeliner was already halfway down my face by the time we stopped at 14th street  

i cried today for the first time since moving to the city
it finally felt like my city
usus Aug 20
Clouds are bright
Railtrack’s beaming with light
Sky’s high
Winds are mine

I just wanted to get on the train,
any train.
Where was it heading?
Doesn’t matter really

I very nearly did it lol
Third Eye Candy Dec 2012
At Nineteen Miles An Hour, Smoking On A Train

chugging along the lilacs of twilight in the plasma darkening of a stretch
we fetch the improbable road to our destination. we give a ****. but the birds are listening.
and that might lead to luggage. so much, you might sweep the light fantastic
into army hats. you might march a sustained coup on your hopeless epiphanies.
at nineteen miles an hour, on a train... you see your god.
are you too light to darken the right words
to a happy demise?

are your zeroes at odds?
Next page