When i tell people about how i saw beyond reason, they tell me i'm not making any sense. Ironically, that's exactly the point. Something beyond reason can't make sense, logically, but it doesn't mean there isn't anything beyond logic.
We as people often act defying logic, although, arguably, the logic we live by is relative, and that leads to certain logical conclusions. What i am more interested in is, if all the relative points of logic can be seen as parts of objective, or even universal logic, then can i map it's boundaries? The answer is no. For the reason that if you can't see beyond a certain point you can't tell what's behind it. Say i stumble upon the logical end of my thought - it seemingly ends at a certain point, but what is beyond - i cannot know, that's why i can not tell if it's the logical end of it is relative to me or objective. But that is a logical mistake on my part. It's the relatively logical way to think, but objectively it's doomed for failure. For the same reason why we can't find the edge of our universe - not just because we don't see beyond the visible space region, but because it is impossible to reach such an edge in three dimensional space.
Allow me to logically explain why, on example of a two-dimensional space. Imagine yourself in a jar with water, you are swimming on the surface. The boundaries of the jar is your observable, or for better word - reachable universe. But the jar is not the entire universe, beyond the jar there is enormous amount of water. Whether it exists on a three-dimensional sphere or simply goes forever is irrelevant - you will never swim to the edge regardless. But if you were to be able to jump up from the surface of water then you would have understood that the true edge of this universe was actually vertical and you've just escaped through it into a new 3-dimensional one that is an extension of the two-dimensional one you previously were floating in. Now how do you then escape this 3-dimensional one you found yourself in? You know the answer, you jump into the 4th dimension - the logically only true edge of it.
Whether you can do it or not is irrelevant, what matters is what it tells us about logic - the exactly same thing - you can't reach the end of logic by simply looking around for it's borders, you have to fundamentally defy logic and go beyond it from the start.
Before we attempt that i have to lay down some things i kept secret from you until now. Why do i even chase the logical end? The answer is - i don't, i chase the fundamental understanding of the universe. "Whoah - hold up there" you might say, "what a perverse charlatan you are with your irrational methods, leave the universe to scientists!" And i will tell you - you are completely right. I don't understand anything a physicist or astronomer does when they examine what they can about the universe, but i believe, even though objectivity is not a matter of belief, to have a full understanding one can't study things from one aspect. Logic is the counterpart to fact, it is due to logic that facts exist the way they do, and it is due to facts available to us that we have the relative understanding of logic that we have today. Logic is the interpretation of the universe. And to reach a logical limit, in a sense, would be similar to reaching the limit of the universe. I can't jump into the fourth dimension of space, but i still i want to gain the fundamental understanding. I am desperate. That's why i will not stop until i have found it.
I have to derail from logic, and to do so i first need to deconstruct it. Construct is the foundation logic. By tying things into constructs, logic allows for interpretation of facts. Take for example the three dimensional space. It's construct is simple - it is existing in a three-axis fashion. There is left-right, forward-backward, up-down. Very simple, yet if need be it allows for great complexity, which can always be traced down to it's construct - three axis. To go beyond logic's very basic construct would be reaching my goal, but it is too early for that, as i can't yet pin-point what that is; i can do it for the relative space that i operate in, since with logic i interpret it, but to break down the very thing i interpret the world with is a completely different task.
Let's return to constructs. As i have realized, they are the foundation of logic. But further than that, they allow for existence of concepts. Now, beyond being a pretty word, a concept is something that we can logically interpret - understand, deconstruct or construct. Now not to play this game of terms any further, for the sake of logical simplicity i have decided that there are two types of concepts (and nothing further) - relative and objective. Relative concepts are understood in connection to other ones, while objective ones don't need the presence of others to still be ready for interpretation. The truth is, no one operates in objective constructs, because for that you would have to be outside of logic and universe, know it completely and wholly, only then would you truly be able to tell what constructs are objective. Even though relative to us, some concepts seem objective, for example - evolution, we describe it as the process of continuous adaptation. Seems very objective, right? But to proclaim such a thing is a fallacy - as even though it may be connected to our entire relative field of logic, we cannot tell whether is a fundamental property of all layers of the universe beyond our own. Another example - the concept of process. Well, time flows and with it something changes. Very objective. But time is relative to our perception of reality, there may not even be "time" at all and all there is is the way we experience the universe. What if we experienced time backwards? What if we experienced all time available to us at once? What if we did not experience time at all and stayed in a single "time-frame"? Is the concept of process still valid then? As such, all concepts available to us lie in the relative region of logic, and as far as we can understand, they don't stretch beyond it at least objectively.
Now that i have decided upon the features of logic, i need to derail. I don't know where to start so i will attempt to deconstruct a concept, and hopefully i will reach a logical failure - that will indicate to me that i have reached the limit to which i can deconstruct the concept, unless of course i have failed to stay true to logic, which seems contradictory, but really it isn't, as duality is the nature of the universe - even in logic.
If i have to "derail" then i will go with the concept of "a train". The one that travels on rails. What is a train? Is it a machine powered by fuel that goes on rails to transport someone or something, and usually consists of many connected wagons? Yes, but a lot of that is formalities, as how exactly a train works isn't a fundamental part of it's concept. The human idea of train can easily be seen in how we use the word alternatively - "train of thought". Fundamentally, it's something that travels to (hopefully)_a destination (but this train is doomed to fail). As such, i have discovered that "train" is only one of the faces for the fundamental concept of "transportation". Transportation is so fundamental to not just our existence but all life on Earth; because of this the invention of train by humankind was inevitable.
Let us transport somewhere. Conceptually, transportation means continuous movement of object by another. I want to go from point A to point B and i transport myself: i put myself in a cart and the cart takes me there. I want to transport a can of soda from the store to my fridge: i transport it there by carrying it in my hand.
I have realized that transport is a bad word for all of this, since it is not yet the most fundamental concept. What an oversight by me! Let's quickly fix this by proclaiming that more fundamental than transportation is movement. That truly is a great concept, as it is very fundamental, so please replace the word "transportation" for the word "movement" in the previous examples i'd described.
Movement is the primordial concept. I have arrived to such conclusion by thinking for an entire minute. If the construct of our perceivable reality is the three-axis, then by adding the concept of time and cause-effect into the mix, movement inevitably appears. Actually i have messed up with the terminology, so i will clean up the mess: construct of perceivable space is three-axis, but the fundamental construct of our relative reality also consists of time and cause-effect. In such a formation, movement is the primordial construct of this relative reality, as it is the most fundamental act. If you didn't know, non-movement is impossible in our reality due to the principle of relativity: even if you stay in place - from many perspectives you are in fact moving.
How does movement occur?.. What does it describe?.. A process of me moving from one point to another in a certain period of time? But what if it can also be reversed and describe me as moving in time in a certain length of space? Yes, it should, absolutely. Because from a detached perspective, it's the same thing. For me to move a certain distance, a certain amount of time has to pass; when a certain amount of time passes, i inevitably move a certain distance. I can't move to a certain distance without passing through a certain amount of time. I can't pass through a certain amount of time without moving some distance. In fact, i have an idea, i will move through time just because i decided to, and for that to happen i only need to go over a certain distance, or i may not even need to go, as i move through space all the time anyway. I still can only experience the time in one direction which is dictated by the cause-effect first being cause then effect in my relative perception of reality, but all it takes for me to go backwards is to turn around the cause-effect axis the same way i would turn around in the spacial three-dimensional axis'es. Everything would be exactly the same, just going backwards, and would make perfect sense once you apply a different logical interpretation strategy (with the effect being prior to cause).
Now i turn on the cause-effect axis in such a way that to my right is the cause and to my left is the effect. Time is at a standstill. I can't tell for sure but either i experience just one time-frame or all of them at once, but time no longer plays a part in my perception of reality, in fact now i see that to my right is the past and to my left is the future - it's frames like the one in which i currently am but slightly alternated, only if connected in a sequence they combine into time, but standalone they are like three-dimensional pictures.
I have experienced the world in a way i never had yet, but it still makes complete sense. I need to start removing parts of the logical construct. As i still witness past to the right and future to the left i decide that i can also see the alternative pasts and futures - all of those that intersect the one frame i currently inhabit. Why did i even decide i can do that? Because quantum mechanics told me i can, since according to their principles, universe is both deterministic and random - all effects occur from all possible causes and thus form infinite amount of timeline forks - all of which happen but a single observer feels like he only experiences one.
So i am an observer who turned perpendicularly around the cause-effect axis and decided that he can see what other observers he interconnected with experienced and will experience - them being technically other versions of me that cross paths in this frame. Now, when i say i've decided, you must understand, that even though factually none of this is possible, logically it is, just as much as you don't need to actually perform an action to sort of experience it - when you play a video-game or imagine things. Now, back to my experience of this ultra-reality, it is not very comprehensible, as it is similar to having not just one vision but 3 powered by infinity. I can't take it all in, but all my counterpart versions did come to this time-frame too, after-all. Which means that right here and now there's infinite amount of me, and all-together we can comprehend this mess of infinite pictures, one by one. This is definitely some sort of super-consciousness, made possible by all of us observers realizing that we interconnected from divergent paths in this one frame, which in turn was made possible from us rotating on the cause-effect axis. This is as close as it comes for me experiencing something truly divine. Not factually possible, yet logically experienceable.
Now i have seen it all - the entirety of my personal observable universe - or to be more factually correct - the entirety of my relatively available logic. Being only one of those infinite converging observers, i can't really tell you exactly what it consists of, but if you follow me in my previous steps you will understand it without me having to explain it.
Now only just one thing remains to finally derail - as i see everywhere i could ever see, and still wish to see what i could never see. Just like from that two-dimensional water i jumped into the three-dimensional air above it, i have to jump from whatever this thing i currently am experiencing to somewhere beyond it.
And i actually do so. In a way. I can't see **** here. Or at least, i can't figure out what i see, it makes no sense, it is beyond logic, beyond comprehension. Not even the infinite amount of my brethren can figure it out, it is on a completely different plane of existence, or maybe it even is unexistance, i can't know. It's completely quiet, even though maybe it is actually loud, just that the sound doesn't make any sense to me, so it's the same as if i don't hear anything. I just stare into it which is both nothing and so much everything to me that i almost drown in it. It pretty much ***** my thoughtful entirety into it much like a black-hole, it can't really do it but all my thoughts are attracted to it. It is to me like a great void that probably has lots of stuff inside but i can't possibly ever reach it, so to me it's a void. A void beyond logic, the delirious nonsense itself. I cannot reach it.
I get back from it to my plane of existence and turn around into the normal position on cause-effect axis of my relative reality. I really did it, i found that edge, that border. It's such a strange insight unlike anything else i have ever experienced in my head. I both know and don't know so much more about the universe - i experienced that black hole in my head, the end of the line for the train of logic, that drowns out into the vast void of complete irrationality relative to me. Now i know where and how to find it, and while it's not of any use to me, it brings me both despair and solace.
And did You find your end of the line?

I hear my train coming
Chugging down the track
I hear my train coming
I won't be looking back
I hear my train coming
To take me away from you
I hear my train coming
But I don't know where its going to
I hear my train coming
Its taking me where I can shine
I hear my train coming
And I know I'll be just fine
I hear my train coming
To take me far away
I hear my train coming
I'm finally leaving today

It was aboard the Amtrak Crescent train to Atlanta and New Orleans
Railing tracks being a vacation to not look back
There were stops the train made
But as night had fallen needing no shade
I was sitting in coach folks, suddenly the train made an immediate stop
A passenger on the train wanted this be a “Death Knot”
Immediately the conductor ran through the train
The train remained still for a while
There was no one walking idle
The passenger wanted to commit suicide and jump off
Another Conductor saw the passengers and avoided the attempt
The passenger wanted the situation  to be “Passenger leaps to his Death”
But life was for him to live
Death wasn’t make a call
The passenger was subdued in stall
The train proceeded on
I don’t know how, but the train was on schedule and arrived where it belonged
Fate that could have come too late
It simply wasn’t the passenger’s time fitting the slate.

I'm back with the train gang,
sing
back with the train gang
Oh yeah.

It's not rocket science
although
Stephenson might disagree
It's just me on the tube line
wasting some more time
back with the train gang.

The guv'nor messaged me
wrote
' get into work early '
back with the train gang.


I know it's a state of mind,
but I have looked and am
unable to find
motivation
left at the station,
back with the train gang.

This is the rush
the shove and the push
and no use me grumbling
the tube keeps on rumbling
back with the train gang.

The next stop is Bank
( mind the gap)
never noticed a please!
St Paul's and Chancery lane
back with train gang
again
back with the train gang.

It was the holidays once again
The air was electric with anticipation
Everything was decorated for the season
People were  jubilant
Bright colors and lights were scattered around
The trains were running between two large cities on their usual run

This particular train was at the station
It was waiting for its passengers to board
It would be traveling north
To the next large city
It was early evening — around 6
The trip would take about 3 hours

For the season, the bar area was brightly decorated
Lights were even put on the outside of the train
The look was very festive

Passengers started to board
Dressed for the weather
In winter coats and hats
Many carrying packages
Some wrapped in beautiful paper

It was brisk outside
The air was crisp and fresh
Breath hung in the air like vapor

The train was readying to leave
Steam began rising
The whistle blew as the doors closed
Warning that the train was about to leave
Ever so slightly the train started moving away from the station

As the train made its way north
It started to pick up speed
The rhythm of its travel pounding
like a faint drumbeat to the ear
It was hypnotic and calming
Calling sleep to the listener

Faint music played in the background to set the mood

People were happy in their seats
Talking, some sleeping, some reading or on their phones
Others just watched the sights
Everyone glad to be heading north

Some were going home
Some only visiting
Every one excited about the trip
Anxious to arrive

After three hours or so, the train started to slow
It was arriving at its next stop

Passengers put on their coats and hats
They gathered up their belongings
As the train pulled into the station
the passengers lined up to leave

As people filed into the station they made their way out
Either to another train or to exit
Hundreds of people walked onto the street above
Creating a momentary crowd

Taxis arrived to take people to their homes or locations

Others decided to walk or catch a subway

Hotels were brimming with guests
Decorated in their best

The streets were filled with people
Coming and going
The air smelled of the holidays
Stores were crowded as shoppers reviewed their wares

A street fair was going on nearby selling homemade crafts from local artists
Coffee shops were brewing fresh coffee

The city was alive
Decorated in its best
Colors everywhere
Red, green, blues, gold, and silver

Street were vendors selling hot pretzels
Others with apple cider or hot chocolate

It was a beautiful sight to behold
This was New York at its best

At birth, we boarded the train of life and met our parents, and we believed that they would always travel by our side. However, at some station, our parents would step down from the train, leaving us on life's journey alone.

As time goes by, some significant people will board the train: siblings, other children, friends, and even the love of our life.

Many will step down and leave a permanent vacuum.  Others will go so unnoticed that we won't realize that they vacated their seats! This train ride has been a mixture of joy, sorrow, fantasy, expectations, hellos, goodbyes, and farewells.

A successful journey consists of having a good relationship with all passengers, requiring that we give the best of ourselves. The mystery that prevails is that we do not know at which station we ourselves will step down. Thus, we must try to travel along the track of life in the best possible way -- loving, forgiving, giving, and sharing.

When the time comes for us to step down and leave our seat empty -- we should leave behind beautiful memories for those who continue to travel on the train of life.


Let’s remember to thank our Creator for giving us life to participate in this journey.

I close by thanking you for being one of the passengers on my train!

It was the holidays once again
The air was electric with anticipation
Everything was decorated for the season
People were  jubilant
Bright colors and lights were scattered around
The trains were running between two large cities on their usual run

This particular train was at the station
It was waiting for its passengers to board
It would be traveling north
To the next large city
It was early evening — around 6
The trip would take about 3 hours

For the season, the bar area was brightly decorated
Lights were even put on the outside of the train
The look was very festive

Passengers started to board
Dressed for the weather
In winter coats and hats
Many carrying packages
Some wrapped in beautiful paper

It was brisk outside
The air was crisp and fresh
Breath hung in the air like vapor

The train was readying to leave
Steam began rising
The whistle blew as the doors closed
Warning that the train was about to leave
Ever so slightly the train started moving away from the station

As the train made its way north
It started to pick up speed
The rhythm of its travel pounding
like a faint drumbeat to the ear
It was hypnotic and calming
Calling sleep to the listener

Faint music played in the background to set the mood

People were happy in their seats
Talking, some sleeping, some reading or on their phones
Others just watched the sights
Everyone glad to be heading north

Some were going home
Some only visiting
Every one excited about the trip
Anxious to arrive

After three hours or so, the train started to slow
It was arriving at its next stop

Passengers put on their coats and hats
They gathered up their belongings
As the train pulled into the station
the passengers lined up to leave

As people filed into the station they made their way out
Either to another train or to exit
Hundreds of people walked onto the street above
Creating a momentary crowd

Taxis arrived to take people to their homes or locations

Others decided to walk or catch a subway

Hotels were brimming with guests
Decorated in their best

The streets were filled with people
Coming and going
The air smelled of the holidays
Stores were crowded as shoppers reviewed their wares

A street fair was going on nearby selling homemade crafts from local artists
Coffee shops were brewing fresh coffee

The city was alive
Decorated in its best
Colors everywhere
Red, green, blues, gold, and silver

Street were vendors selling hot pretzels
Others with apple cider or hot chocolate

It was a beautiful sight to behold
This was New York at its best

I said I am moving like a freight train....but I am trying not to go insane
Although I am in so much pain...I am still moving like a freight train
My love for her is so intense......I sit and to all of it I try to make sense
But I am still moving like a freight train .....trying to keep from giving insane
The pain I am in cuz I miss her so much.......and with reality I still lose touch
But I am still moving like a freight train.....maybe I am better off taking a jet plane.
This woman and the world I try to live in.....they are both always in my head.....and always remind me where I have been
But here I am still moving like a freight train.......but I am still trying to keep from going insane..
Everyday and night my life has got me going from left to right.....I keep falling but I won't stay down.....I refuse to walk through it always wearing this frown
But again here I am moving like a freight train...and trying to no end to keep from going insane
......(talk ) as long as this train keeps going strong ..I will always remember right from wrong
Because I am moving like a freight train.....and who knows if I will ever go insane.

Here comes the train.
the train, here is comes.
here comes the train.
hear it?
its getting louder, '
and louder,
and louder,
and louder,
more than ever before.
here comes the train.
i'm sure you hear the train.
it was the horn,
that she heard so well.
it was the horn,
that told her it was nearing.
it was the horn,
that let her know when to step out.
it was the horn,
that blew and sounded; loud and clear.
here comes the train,
the train here it comes.

The devil's speech say they:
Rolling, clattering, frolicking, hungry.
Billows of charred skeletons embrace the air
Black soot pumped straight from the pyres of Hades
Congealing to clouds of evil intent wherever it roam.
That charred old shell so terse,
Black as sadness and dead as a hearse,
Darling to death as he brings on the rain:
The dry rolling thunder of the funeral train.

In the coughing desert
Not a thing dares roam
Neither wind nor creature
And neither stick nor stone.
But then the silence disturbed by a horrible shriek -
The railway screams in horror and the train itself speaks, saying
   "Tell me, thou innocent,
       Why feel you special and best?
   For when all is done I take you
       And return you to my nest;
   Your world is bright and happy
       Full of high spirits and song,
Though soon you too shall step aboard
       And join my faceless throng."

Hot saliva on the heaving engines:
Weeping, groaning, ghostly, parched.
Rusted joints spewed onwards grinding resisting
Movement spat out like a violently beaded string of curses
Sloppily uttered as incantations of a malformed mouth!
From that charred old shell so terse,
Black as sadness and dead as a hearse,
Darling to death as he brings on the rain:
The dry rolling thunder of the funeral train.

That dark train cries out and all around
A mourning whimper rises like slumbering fog-
Bleak and yellow it obscures the land
Seeping out insidious in strange locales all:
The old lonely fisherman
Sleeping on his wharf,
The frustrated hawker's
Windblown barefaced booth,
Silent streets crying for attention,
Dark places hidden at the corner of every eye.

That solemn train cries out and all around
Her mourning whimper rises like harrowing fog
Calling all to upright attention and fear.
Looming like a spectre but a breath-span from your window
Slowly closing cold dread claws-
Naked numbness dumb as ice-
Cold dread claws upon thy waist.
And you,
You poor old thing,
Shivering in your pitiful shack of bones,
You never had any chance!
You were only human.
You were only human, you poor old thing.

Barreling on with brimstone slang:
Clang clang! Dang dang! Beelz Bub!
Sputtering an ocean of curses from turgid goat-flesh
Born of sadness to cause even more, yawning great maw
Jowls clanking with fresh hot oil drool steaming stark and lewd, and yet
That charred old shell so terse,
Blacker than sadness and slain like a hearse,
Is all that gives meaning to our every gain:
The dry rolling thunder of the funeral train.

My mind isn't a one way track
The weak train who is now almost giving up
From the back and forth ride
Decisions are made only after
Thinking about it a 100 times
After my actions are done
I think about it a 100 times more

The weak train who is now almost giving up
The train wants to stop
The train wants to rest

The train doesn't know itself
The train asks if he is indeed a train
The train thinks he is no longer a train
but a pendulum
from those thoughts always swinging back and forth

The doctor says thinking hardly is a good thing
Inorder to come up with a good decision
But doctor
what you dont know is
the train still hasnt made a decision
it's mind is still full of question
running back and forth
till now, it still hasn't reached its destination

You were like a train coming at me head-on. I saw you from a great distance, but I couldn't be bothered to move. Don't kiss train wrecks.
I wasn't afraid.

They say the seconds before your death are elongated, that time feels different there. The clock ticks in an altered fashion. What is nothing but a mere millisecond, a second if you're lucky, is outstretched in the passing between life and death. That's how our time together felt.

DON'T KISS TRAIN WRECKS

Like any other story,  my happiness was short lived. Reality intervened and that collision was far worse than any train wreck. You told me it was foolish, to presume we would ever truly be good together. You spoke these words in such a way, like I should have known- and oh, I should have. Don't kiss train wrecks.

You were but a passing train. I was lost, stumbling stupidly in your way, as if I was appointing you to save my life. Irony had never been so cruel.

I felt a numbness in my whole body.
And then there was smoke and it was dust that I'd become once more.
Don't kiss train wrecks.

"step right up, step right up
       the train leaves in an hour"
train? train to where?
       "oh, this train is magnificent
       technology from the year 3000
       it can take you wherever you want to go
       where the sun never stops shining
       fields full of flowers as far as the eye can see"
well, that sounds lovely!
could i lay in the grass and bask in the sun?
       "well, of course you can, beautiful!
       you can lay in the grass all day long
       sun shining on you
       and you never have to go back inside"
well, that sounds perfect!
what is there to do there?
      "anything you could ever possibly want!"
anything?
      "of course!"
are there rabbits to catch?
      "certainly!"
are there chickens to chase?
      "more chickens than you know what to do with, beautiful!"
how about water to traipse about in and swim in?
      "there is a beautiful lake under the shade of trees
      i'm sure you'd love it there!"
well, this place sounds wonderful!
i must tell them about it
they would love it there!
we can all lay in the sun together
and pick out shapes in the clouds
they could watch me chase the chickens and the rabbits
he and i could swim in the lake
oh, how lovely that would be!
       "my darling, that is the catch-
       one day, they will join you
       but it cannot be today
       you must get on this train alone
       for that is how you got off of it
       all those years ago"
i don't know about all this...
i don't want to go without them
please don't make me go alone
       "i'm sorry, sweet creature, but you must
       those are the rules, i'm afraid
       i know it is scary
       but you are brave
       i know you can do it"
i don't want to leave them
they are all i have
they give me affection and food
and i love them very much
if there is a place where the sun doesn't set
i want them there too
       "i know, but this is just how it is
       and this is how it has to be
       step right up, step right up!
       the train leaves in thirty minutes
       it is time to say goodbye"
goodbye? i don't want to say goodbye
i can't leave them!
who will they give hugs and belly rubs?
what will they possibly do with all those kisses?
       "i'm sure they can put them all to good use
       humans are good at that"
but who will kiss them?
who will say "i love you" every minute?
who will let them know about the thunderstorms?
they are very stupid and unafraid
so i must tell them when there is danger
tell me, who will do that if i'm not there?
       "they will be okay, i promise
       they will carry on
       humans are good at that
       step right up, step right up
       the train leaves in fifteen minutes
       be ready with your tickets"
i'm still not sure about this
it seems very sudden
for me to go on this trip
and not tell them about it
       "darling, it will be okay
       they will understand
       humans are not good at that
       but they will try their best for you"
how can you be sure?
they are very stupid and very silly
they need me to look after them
       "darling, it will be okay
       the time has come for them to look after themselves
       they will fail
       but they will try their best for you"
i am going to miss them though-
       "they will miss you too-"
i love them very much-
       "and they love you-"
but this place you speak of sounds so nice-
       "but it is time for you to go, my dear
       step right up, step right up
       the train is leaving now!
       say your final goodbyes-"
but this isn't goodbye, right?
and this isn't final-
it's just a 'see you later'
we'll meet again, i'm sure of it
because i was made for them
and they were made for me
       "it's time to choose now, love
       are you on or off?"
i suppose i have no choice
it is too good for me to pass up this offer
i know they will miss me
i know i will miss them
but as long as i keep in mind
one day they will meet me again
at their journey's end
it will all be okay
so you see
this is not goodbye
and it isn't final
this is 'see you later'
this is 'see you around'
i love you all
       "all aboard!"
but the train is leaving
and i must go now
goodbye, you guys
see you again one day soon
but not too soon
we will all be okay
one day you will join me
and then we'll all be the okayest we could have ever been!
i'm looking forward to that day
but for now
the train is leaving
and i must go now

It was Christmas Eve, a Thursday
On the Northern Express Christmas Train
We were on our way north through the wilds
And our  destination was to be old Hornepayne

One hundred and eighty two people
Three kittens, one goat and nine dogs
Were riding up north on the railroad
Oh, I forgot to mention six hogs

There was snow coming in from the waters
Surrounding the bays, both Hudson and James
The engineer was prepared for a whopper
This would not be a time to play games

It was nineteen twenty in the year of our lord
The great war had been done for two years
These people were travelling homeward
To spend Christmas with those they held dear

The storm was gathering force over water
There was no way to safely arrive
They only had one option before them
If he wanted them all to survive

He pulled the train off on a side spur
They were not getting home safe tonight
But, the train, being old wasn't worthy
Of surviving the storm and it's fight

The conductor gathered up  all his courage
And he entered each car in their turn
He said "It looks like we're here for a while"
The storm looked real bad, as they'd learn

Remember it was nineteen twenty
The trains had no heat to keep warm
There was just an old stove and the engine
To keep them alive in the storm

The lines were down, so no message
Could be sent via morse code machine
They were stuck in the Ontario wilds
In a storm worse than they'd ever seen

They prayed and they sang hymns all together
Christmas carols and some all would know
As they sat, and they watched out the window
At the wind whipping, white sheets of snow

It was just after four when it started
Six hours in it was worse
One man, a fellow named Woolner
Said "we're stuck on a CP rail hearse"

The children were kept calm by their mothers
The men were watching as well
They were keeping an eye on the weather
They would not die in this frozen hell

It was just before midnight I reckon
When the storm broke enough to see out
The snow was now done and was over
Of this there was surely no doubt

Christmas Day...it was now after midnight
Some were sleeping while others were not
They had left to go start a fire
This was an idea given plenty of thought

The people awoke and they followed
To the fire to keep warm and still pray
They would make the best of a bad situation
Don't forget it was still Christmas Day

Christmas happens, it doesn't pick a location
It doesn't give a **** where you are
Christmas happens, and it gives a feeling
Of goodness, whether you're close or home is quite far

These people all stuck in the forest
Still a day or so from where they would go
Spent a Christmas with a whole bunch of strangers
some dogs, cats and hogs and a goat

Gifts that were destined for family
Were opened that night by the crowd
And the carols they sang in the forest
Shook the snow, they were singing so loud

The trees were lit up by the fire
Snow was covering branches up high
When they looked up into the dark heavens
And they saw the bright lights in the sky

The rainbow of colours was awesome
It shone brighter than bright in the sky
But one thing stood out in the distance
The one star that shone bright from on high

What was it that brought them together
Made them share this Christmas as one
Was it the storm that was the only reason
Or was there something else there that had come

The word came on out from the engine
The lines of communication were back
They should all get on back to their carriage
And he'd get this train back on track

When they all climbed aboard to get moving
Every seat had a package, all wrapped
No one saw who delivered the presents
As they were all in this outland, and trapped

Was it Santa come through to deliver
Their presents while they all went to pray
It's a question that no one can answer
It's a puzzle that remains to this day

If you ever go north on the railway
And you pass by the park near Hornepayne
Remember the big storm they encountered
And the magic on the Christmas Train

From afar I knew her at school,
We talked once or twice,
She was a beauty you see.
Having a boyfriend elsewhere.

Came our Senior All Night Party,
Planned out all very cool.
After an afternoon Graduation,
Our entire class of several hundred
Embarked on a private train,
Eight passenger cars,
An Engine and caboose.
All Just for our use.

As a class officer I was in the entry car,
Handing out handshakes to the guys,
And goodbye kisses to the girls,
(One last chance to flirt.)

Until she, the leggy blond came along.
That kiss was not fleeting, not congratulatory,
If was mutually passionate and assuredly sincere.
It took my breath away, she tasted of lipstick
And honey, sweet as can be.

Minutes later we found ourselves
In a compartment, mostly alone,  
Stayed there though out the,
90 mile train excursion,
Discovering each other as
Young Lovers should.
Nothing seedy,
Nothing inappropriate,
Just kissing until our lips hurt,
And I felt like I might explode.
This beautiful long legged girl,
And I, fogging the windows up,
All Fireworks and night flares,
Like a steamy magic act on the rails.
Other people came and went,
But we hardly took notice of them.
Lost in a little world of our own.

We reached Oakland,
Departed the train,
Went aboard a three level,
Red Line Cruse Boat
And sailed away.
Two bands, music,
And just a little *****,
High on kisses, Royal Crown,
Jack Denials’ Black Label.              
All night on the Bay water,
A little dancing too, as I recall.

Then back at the Pier by six.
Breakfast and return train trip.
Somewhere along the way,
We lost track of each other,
Too many people,
All moving and shoving,
Friends pulling us in different direction,
Too tired to protest I guess.
I found a place to fall asleep and did.
And just like that it was over.

The next day and for years,
It all seemed like a dream.
How does that happen?
What had we both been feeling
For those four school years,
But had never expressed,
To ourselves or each other,
That put us together on that journey,
Of Steel Tracks and Water Adrift?

During those years,
What passions had we stifled,
All for lack of opportunity?
Both dating other people,
Busy moving blindly through adolescents,
As kids will do, with no real clue.   

After the train ride,
That ship on the Bay,
It was off to college,
And new friends with which to play,
Events and time took over, and
We both went our own ways.

For the first time, since that night,
I saw her some weeks ago.
And she still looks the same.
It’s been many years,
But she has not changed.
Lovely as ever and still my friend.
Both of us laughed as we talked,
Fondly recalled that night on the train.
She now a widow and me on my own.

Living 600 miles apart,
We email back and forth,
Pen Pals we tell ourselves,
And each other.

What was I thinking?
Back in those days.
How did I let her get away?
I suppose “Stuff” and something,
Called Life merely got in the way.

Now every day,
The first thing I do,
After I let out the dogs,
And brew a cup of Joe,
Is open my Email files,
To see if she is there.
So pleased when she is,
A little sad when she’s not.

Ignoring the fact that it has no engineman, no plan, no back-up, and it's passengers couldn't keep up.
My life feels like an empty train with no destination.
It's goal is to move away as far as it could with no hesitation .
Maybe I'm supposed to be the one driving.
If I do, then I might as well just forget about arriving.
Actually, can this thing even be on auto-mode? I see no concrete railroad track.
So far, I've been letting it do it's job and fall back.
But lately it's moving so fast, I kind of want to go back.

Just a while ago I was in station twelve, I got distracted and wasn't aware of the train leaving. Ever since, I've been wandering around, grieving.  From time to time I would get glimpses of my train. I would call out for it, but it refused to stop or even slow down. So I chose a town, and settled in. It was called town sixteen. Before I got comfortable, my train came by to fix it's engine. And I was getting sick from my routine. So I decided to get  in, and it was great.
Little did I know that this joy was yet to fade.
I got to see all sorts of  forgotten views: passion, friends, peace, God...
Little did I know that the temporary serenity was a fraud.

As we approached station seventeen, the train was gaining speed. "Slow down!" To the thickheaded machine I plead. I was not keeping firm ground. That before I knew it, I fell to the ground.
Out of the train I was shot.
My face felt hot.
Covered in blood and broken glass.
I have completely ruined someone's freshly cut grass.
I was so embarrassed and miserable, my own train threw me out.
Full of self-doubt
I decided to out run that thickheaded train.
I ran and ran and ran...
but in vain.
After some struggle, I came up with a simple plan:
to follow the most used railroad.
The freshly traced marks on the sand, I followed.
Thus, I arrived to the common land.
Everyone was so busy, going in all different directions at impossible speed. That no one bothered to give me a hand.
Not that I cared anyways.
For I too had my ways…
Ways that I hoped to discover anytime soon.

My ears pick up the sounds coming close
chugga chugga choo choo
patiently wait while excitement infects my bones
my cold squinting eyes scan the track
train is inching into sight
shaky cold legs, counting seconds till arrival
one two three four five six seconds
the train yields with screaming loudness
ears yell to hands
mittens push over ears with intent to rescue
see the conductor, let the wind push  me to the entrance
put headphones in and get lost in a world of my own
blast off, the train soars and my mind wanders
with a wandering mind I am leaning against a frosted window
                                    suddenly
my head bumps off the window and the train comes yielding
one two three four five six seconds
I feel panic shoot through my veins
we had not even reached a second stop
heads turn and questions are passed around like candy on halloween
careless and free
I see the hat of a conductor bobbling,coming closer
"a man has been killed on the tracks"
"we can no longer run this train"
one woman, " well what the hell am I supposed to do now?"
one man, " where do I go now? I have places to be."
other faces" angry and filled with eyes of annoyance"
One two three four five six seconds
people begin to put foot after foot, stomp off a train
left lost in my mind but in whole different world once again
one two three four five six seconds
Conductor: Miss are you ok?
silently I get off the train
one two three four five six seconds
life is gone
a man has perished
all aboard the train of realization
all aboard the train of ignorance
once two three four five six seconds
what has happened to the regard for human life?

The train chugged on in the darkness
Past meadows and cattle asleep,
And the night revealed its starkness
Puffing smoke on the backs of sheep,
Its livery was as black as the soot
That covered its ageing paint,
It couldn’t be classed as beautiful,
Though it might have been thought as quaint.

The night was such an inky black
As a cloud obscured the stars,
The train was sensing a nothingness
In the vast expanse to Mars,
The fireman sprayed its feed of coal
As the boiler felt the strain,
As tired pistons and tired wheels
Drove on the exhausted train.

A thought came out of the empty sky
And mixed with the sulphur stream,
‘Why can’t I be like the other trains
That little boys love, and dream,
Instead, I’ve spent my whole life long
Tied to an endless rail,
I’ve done all the driver wanted to
But I may as well be in jail.’

There was only an empty signal box
Unmanned at that time of night,
And miles and miles of dark ahead
With never a single light,
So an angry feeling was building up
At that Great Train in the sky,
That only commanded, ‘what thou shalt,’
But never explained, ‘but why?’

So into the dark it chugged along
With carriages in its wake,
While deep inside, the fireman asked
‘Did anyone fix the brake?
The driver shook his gnarled old head
As if in a quick reply,
‘There hasn’t been time for the loco shed,
But they’ll fix it, by and by.’

The boiler started to grumble so
They stopped at a water trough,
The fireman pulled the spout across
And turned it on, then off,
They pulled away with the tender full
Though the train was feeling pain,
‘I’m always doing the same old things,
I’m not going to stop again.’

So on they steamed to Hunterdown
Where at last the brakes had failed,
All they got was a steady sçream
As the wheels spun on the rails,
And though the driver cut the steam
Still along the track it sped,
While the driver and the fireman
On the footplate, stood in dread.

‘The rail runs out at Dead Man’s Eye
Said the driver to his mate,
If we can’t slow down this blessed thing,
I’m afraid, it’s much too late.’
They chose to jump as the rail ran out
But the train still plunged ahead,
Over the untamed landscape
Riding on meadow grass instead.

The carriages piled behind it
Were detached in an awful wreck,
But still the locomotive drove
On a joyous final trek,
It rambled over a grassy ridge
And fell over a pleasant hill,
Next to a colourful flower bed,
And today, it lies there still.

Now children gather to play on it
This pile of rusted steel,
A train that had a tender heart
And for once could see and feel,
If all of its life were memories
Then the one it’s surely got,
Is riding unfettered across the green
To a bed of forget-me-nots.

David Lewis Paget

By a stream of running water,
Underneath a moonless sky,
Like a nightmare of a slaughter
The blood-spattered train goes by.
Where the rails have long been rusted
All along the valley plain,
There the train, so blood encrusted
Will repeat its run again.

I can hear the rails humming
To the rhythm of its wheels,
As the train, it keeps on coming,
As the driver’s mind, it reels,
And he stares out through the darkness
With each glaring, bloodshot eye,
He will have to face the horror
When he stops the train, or die.

There’s a skull smashed on the boiler,
There’s an arm caught on a ledge,
There is blood and guts and gore all spattered,
On the front, and wedged,
When the train ploughed through the gangers who
Were working on the track,
Then their blood sprayed through his cabin
And he didn’t dare look back.

Then the fireman had to ***** as
Their blood sprayed in his face,
But he heaped the coals upon it just
To keep their frantic pace,
And now both their eyes are crazy at
The slaughter they have done,
They are bound for hell, not heaven
On this final ghostly run.

It’s been sixty seven years now since
That train raced down that track,
And those seven men were slaughtered,
But they keep on coming back,
By a stream of running water,
Underneath a moonless sky,
Like a nightmare of a slaughter
The blood-spattered train goes by.

David Lewis Paget

When my sister sits on the train
She loves people watching
And she watches the murals go by
Like sunsets and rises
Of new days
My sister does not dwell on the tracks
When we walk to the train.
They terrify her
She runs past them,
She is anxious and evening and morning.
The train is a path to the next day
I have never seen someone dwell
On the train tracks
Waiting for a train to come
To dissolve the path to the next day
And leave them dead
But I wonder
If that one who passed yesterday
Was once terrified of train tracks
And if they ever rode the train
Before there were murals
On a path to the next day.

In a station,
Beneath the rain,
Here I wait,
For the nine o'clock train.
Some say it goes far,
Down the old way.
To a better place,
You'll hear others say.
But I dance alone,
On the rusty train tracks.
I hear the train whistle,
Sigh, and relax.
In a station,
Beneath the rain,
I did not miss,
The nine o'clock train.

I never did fall in Love with the train so much after I moved into this house just three long months ago. I have spent many short nights near it, allowing its strong and heavy heart beat to pound heavily throughout my dreams, along with its striking whistles and screams, disrupting, even awakening me at some moments. I use to envy the train, and dance near it within the darkest moments of the night. It used to read me stories in the sheer warmth and brightness of a day next to my dear oceans and stones. Its powerful vibrations would sweep through me; a calm disruption yet shattering danger; as if I would be so high that I would forget to move out of the way! Or strong arms wrapped around, as if to protect me from my own danger.  This was my train.

And when I would first come to visit this house, it was the train that brought my heart pleasure. I would run up to its rusty frame, and speak of old technology and street art and sing along with all those noises that would penetrate the air!

“It is my culture! It was my home!” I would say.

All its great horns and moving. It rumbles on through, with no warning or consequence, shifting our city and angering young men in cars.

(And I think some men need to be angry.)

And Today I fell back in Love. My cigarette on porch step, she came through like an old friend. Although today my train looked sad. She was not moving so quickly, and struggled to cross. But I know why she slowed. Exposing bare metal and paints, we all needed this reminder, so we watched her strut slowly. Have I forgotten of good art?  This old grandmother of oil. Rattling my City; sweeping, grinding through.  Economists and Street Kids alike!  We all know of this train. Now lets watch it apart:

The old man near the tree does not have a home, though we watched it together. If he could, he would smile and kiss me on the cheek, though we both know I could never accept such kindness. You see, this neighborhood is the sort where kind neighbors come door-to-door asking for spare cigarettes rather than sugar, and where beer and ******* could be considered a better party.  So I shook her hand once, and exchanged good smiles and smokes, spoke shortly on the porch of our hobos and trains, and agreed in mutuality that we Loved our strange home.  

“This is such a great neighborhood with such character and jazz!”

Its roaming ground people, empty pockets and buildings, seeming so ******* ugly thus enchanting us all! That building like a tree lit up by the night, it was my great shining beacon directing me to light.

My rock.
My Land.
Earth.  

My rattling, tattered home, where I so nestle with Mine, my music, your screens.  Our Moon and your Sun.  And it blows…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Sat on a stationary train in Doncaster because the guy said my MOT would be done today. He said it would be done today or if he needed a part, he wouldn't start on the car so that I could use it tonight. But it wasn't ready tonight. And he didn't leave it until tomorrow. So tonight I'm on a train. Tomorrow I'll be driving a car. Today however, it's a train.

Just leaving Doncaster.

On a train. Not in a car. The car isn't ready until tomorrow. That's what the guy in the garage said. By noon at the latest. He's trustworthy right? I'm sure it will be ready. Sure. I won't be on a train tomorrow. No siree. I'll be in a car.

The lady just took my ticket.

I won't have to give anyone my ticket tomorrow. I'll be in a car. Not on a train. You don't need tickets in a car. You just drive it. Unless you like tickets. Then you could make tickets for your car and give yourself a ticket when you got in the car.

The trains horn just went off. It made me jump.

That wouldn't happen if I were in a car. I'd be in full control of the horn in a car.

I think I just found out why the horn sounded. A bunch of feathers just flew in through the window. RIP bird.

That might have happened if I were in a car. You can still **** birds in a car. But in a car I would have more of a sense of guilt. Being on a train isn't all bad I guess. Plus, if I were in a car and not, as is clearly the case, on a train, I wouldn't have been able to type out all my interesting anecdotal meandering as I chugged along.

That said, if you aren't enjoying reading all about this, might I suggest that you don't use Crown Motors?

My car is still there.

Not here.

I'm on a train.

The gates open,
the Masses rush through,
flowing like water and filling all space,
I am last on the train,
And just barely,
the gates slam my sides to remind me that I almost missed my ride.

There is a gloom in the air and it tastes like disappointment,
Kind of like when you leave French toast out too long after breakfast has been served,
It's old and stale and just not as it should be.

Long faces run for miles down the aisles,
every space in between is filled with resentment and bitterness,
This is not a feeling but a truth for New Yorkers on a long train ride home.

Amidst this gloom,
Rises a cheery little voice,

At first it's very faint,
Like a mouse amongst worlds,
But it begins to rise and grows more confident with every spoken word.

Wrapped in a violently pink scarf and topped with a baby blue hat with arms dangling down to her shins,
This voice construes words so simple and pure that the average heart can't help but to smile.
Even the tough souls,
The real down-on-their-luckers,
smirk and snicker as she reads.

The hero falls,
She cries out with angst!
The hero rises,
She cheers!
By now she has a following of non-admitters,
gently leaning in to hear more,
Because that's what they're coming to see,
To put face to the E Train Angel they’ve heard so much about,

The story is stock and so are it's characters,
They have been used and reused to fit every sequence,
We all know them well,
But for her it is real and true,
and it is not just a story,
but her story.

She reads on,
Words flowing from her lips like the sweetest song,
No lyrics and all melody,
She sings,
And by now the whole train is listening,
Even those many carts away,
can here a faint whisper of something warm and sweet.

The train rolls into station,
and our little angel rises to depart,
Hearts hit the floor,
a sound echoes through the train,
and it's something that can only be described as gray,
A fleeting moment of nostalgia has been abruptly ended.
Gloom soon sets in as she heads for the open doors,

Bodies disperse in front of her like a parting sea,
Slow and steady, and with minor hesitation,
they move to let her pass.

She's gone.

And what more can I say than I am glad that I caught the Train that day.

Night Train, travel through the world unknown
The black hills with a maroon sky thick behind it
The metallic sound of friction valiantly losing battle to the poignant silence
Night Train, write an epic of the hands that cup around the eyes
Of the eyes that talk to the distant light
Of the lights that blink and the ones that stay still
Night Train, don't slow down for each breath falls faster than the wind outside
Night Train, don't slow down for the still is more piercing than the dark blades of grass lying far below
The rhythmic oscillation of the half sleeping bodies stacked one above the other
The threatening aura of the stiff backbones stoically awake
The lone observer is lost in the nightly delusion
Night Train, chronicle a dark fantasy of the broken fragments the night narrates
Night Train, stop, send a jolt, deaden the incantations
Before the dawn or its harbingers intrude