The unplanned morning unfolds

And It makes your blood run cold.

For lurking on a coreflute sign

An unseemly fate foretold..

 

Of a conveyance hated by the masses

Since it’s very first trip.

When somebody, after riding it said, 

this is really shit…

 

The faces of those onboard

read like a horror novel.

As they sit there fiercely seething

While being shaken, b...

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On a rainy, silent night in Thornfield
the deserted streets, houses shrouded in fog
a town where time seemed to stand still
each shadow dancing beneath the flickering light
of the old train station
a relic of red bricks and worn wood

Clara Byrne waited
a young reporter, heart pulsating with mysteries
rumors swirling around her like the rain
about a train that departed at 11:59 PM
never...

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On the train this morning
I sat alone, by the window
Where normally there’d be coffee, warm
and all the world’s news in my ear

Instead, I chose dry silence
I chose the undulating wildness
strobing past my view way
I chose high green hills
and glinting mirrored rivers 
I chose lone trees, centuries old
strong against the elements
I chose lambs and sheep
moving in pairs or herds
I cho...

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Darkness shrouds the train

Blue flashes flicker in the rain

Alone with strangers left to hide

As a man lies down on the line

 

Time stands still when death enters

The breath becomes hard to centre

My luck at catching the last train

Becomes silence in the rain

 

Everyone is on the line

Phones in hand, not the time

Words turn inwards

Soiled and sinful 

 

...

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By Bill 53 1/2

 

The announcement we all dread..

Filters though the Station air

‘Buses are replacing Trains’

my smile turns to a glare.

 

I know how this unfolds…

as I drag me to the bay

Where the throbbing omnibus coyly waits

to make miserable my way.

 

The PTV bus is an unholy child

Born of misery and desperation

It’s ruins you day and makes you late

...

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if you must touch me, make it brief

I am averse to women with designs

my life wanders its own sweet way,

runs on long-distance parallel lines

 

avoiding people doesn't come easy

takes a full life-time of deliberation

alone in a cold third-class carriage

that never quite reaches a station

 

tunnels never ending, dumb that

wild clatter as rolling stock slows,

memo...

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I am at the station
but there won't be a train coming.
Not yet.

I am looking into the distance
searching for any movement
in any direction
wishing for a train
wanting the journey
needing a destination.

I remember the blur of motion
the thrum of sound
the rush of wind
the satisfying halt.

Even before the train comes
you can imagine getting in
finding a seat
settling down
wond...

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inspired by The Last Night of Your Trip

on the train ride home 
your smile flashed between buildings, 
lights flickered and i couldn’t tell 
if it was the spark in your eye 
or the streetlights beaming 
onto the dark streets. 

i saw your smile and your hand
reaching for mine, 
those bedroom eyes 
that whispered “bring me 
to your hotel.” 

we weren’t made for cheap 
sex, we were ...

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Based on the opening scene of Stardust Memories.

...

The clock ticks in desperation to move us along, to where we belong. 

Our eyes remain forward, no longer looking back. 

The man in seat 2B sobs with tears streaming down his face. He’s left his life in his old place.

I soak in the faces of passengers around me, stern looks all around.

All longing for company, for answers that c...

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And I waited hours on that station,

for the train

Which didn't even start it's journey!

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The train is getting slower and slower

Giving me time to rehearse my script

Eve is to meet me at the station

No doubt still furious, fine and ripped

 

Facing up to Eve, I can't do it

My nerve has gone already

I light a prohibited cigarette

My hand is no longer steady

 

The door opens and I alight

Ready for yet another squabble

There seems to be be no sign of Eve

...

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This isn't the last train. But the late train

has no quiet cars. If a baby squalls no conductor

shushes her. You must shush her yourself.

The late train has no dining car. So board

 

this train now, or pack a picnic, your own

tablecloth, napkins, napkin-rings, silver,

porcelain. The late train has no schedule.

Depends on how many girlfriends the brakeman

 

wants to vi...

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Standing on the platform, waving goodbye to yesterday’s train.
Perhaps you wanted to feel you had a little bit of control.
You’re saying you hope that train never comes back again.

 A peripatetic pretense helps to ease the pain.
It’s a phantom journey, but no one has to know.
Standing on the platform, waving goodbye to yesterday’s train.

You collected yourself, stood erect, and hoped to ...

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Of the man who maintained 

That women should refrain

From applying their make-up on a moving train.

 

I ask where is your brain?

And how dare you complain?

And does your arrogance stem from a taste for cocaine?

 

You’re archaic forsooth

Sickening #metoo my back tooth 

So yeah, you’re about to get burnt by the fire in this booth.

 

You claim that she’s uncouth

...

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This gushing of love from my eyes

At the dark-haired mug of the stepped-in passenger

Ugly like a dark night with no moon

Dirty with paint and with a grin

Of pain and tiredness and incomprehension.

Love gushes through eyes and pores

Of my skin, leaking out of any orifice

At the reticent hard reality of a train car,

The suited and tied clerk fingering

His phone oblivious o...

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I've never been one to board common trains of thought.

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Down in the subway in the middle of the night, I hear a train approaching giving me a fright, For no train is scheduled this line has been closed for years, As the train grinds to a halt at the platform, it confirms my fears.   For this is the ghost train and its heading straight for hell, I hear the whistle blow and the signal man yell “All aboard! Its time to go our journeys...

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When the steam clears

 

There’s a proper sound

something real

a “Clunk”

a proper chunk of past

proper steel to steel

wheel to wheel

a “Thunk”

something you can feel

 

I Thunk!

I clod about in boots

steel toe capped boots

heel to heel

steel to steel

It suits me

 

they are my rails

my parallel tracks

in them

I feel secure

on track

...

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An evening, sitting, wanting, ripping, blackening.
An acerbic wind.
Wait for the train and the glut of passengers to spill out.
The end, endless encircling madness, himself in the wilderness.
Girls, Judas and their selfish wives, lives pass, suck Jesus.
In his selfish mask.
Tormented, pushed down, I’m full: kill, hell thoughts.
Giggle to stifle grief, uncomfortable familiar family and perfe...

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AMERICAN MIGS

 

We lost Hugh. Flying such a beautiful little airplane in a blue desert sky, what a nice handling jet. Do what you want with her but no high speed turns too tight, might hit invisible wall in the sky. Dogfight every American jet fighter built none can beat the Mig17 Fresco. Turn on a dime, Russia did this almost right. Ultimate aggressor trainer, what better than to...

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