I found the railroad, but the trains were long gone. Probably melted down to create these towers. Who knows, really, though. They’re done, along with the cars and the planes and that’s where our trouble really comes into play.
Katya strolled absent mindedly onto the rail road, stooping often to collect the lumps of coal left behind by the steam engines that frequented the rout. These lumps would keep her warm through the harsh winter that lay ahead of her. She was so engrossed in her train of thoughts that she did not hear the ominous rumble of the Warsaw-Poznan Express that was hurtling at breakneck speed in her direction. By the time she was jolted out of her thoughts, she was dead, crushed by the sheer weight of the train.
Indulekha
Katya strolled absent-mindedly onto the railroad, stooping down often to pick up lumps of coal left behind by the steam engines that frequented this route.These tiny lumps would become part of the tiny pile, that was gradually growing bigger and bigger, under the stove. These lumps would keep her warm through the harsh winter that lay ahead of her. She was so engrossed in her train of thoughts that she didn’t hear the ominous rumble of the Warsaw-Poznan Express moving in her direction at breakneck speed. By the time she was jolted out of her thoughts, she was dead, crushed by the sheer weight of the train.
Indu
We wandered down the railroad, following our feet as much as we followed the tracks. Occasionally we exchanged glances, our fingers touched. At night, I heard her breathe. We looked at the same stars but we were railroad apart. I wanted to follow her, follow the path of least resistance, but soon I saw that there were barriers and boxcars boxcars boxcars.
Daisy King
We wandered down the railroad, following our feet as much as we followed the tracks. Occasionally we exchanged glances, our fingers touched. At night, I heard her breathe. We looked at the same stars but we were a railroad apart
Daisy King
It was near there
that we met
and twenty six times a day
or more
mostly more
I think about you
and your smile
and the way that your laugh lights up my insides
and I know what it feels like to be loved
She looked at the rusted tracks longingly, remembering the days when they were built. She had been alive for so long; too long. She would welcome death with open arms the day that it came.
Krismera
the railroad just went through the tunnel, when a train goes through it it was felt like it went into a black hole
Sonu Nigam
their paths seemed so uncertain
at times
and in years it would seem to falter
they only knew to carry on
the paths they’ve made
so long ago,
they fear the unknown
the paths long lost
to them.
Lynn
The steam comes out of the top and mingles with my tears
The face in the window becomes distant and I run after
Until machine overpowers beast
A Railroad. A path of wood and steel that we constructed to guide the most powerful form of ground transportation that we have. The very nature of a railroad is based on predestination. Railroad tracks only go one direction at at time, and only forward or back. There is no freedom to a train’s mobility. Once moving however, trains become nigh unstoppable due to their shear momentum and mass. What the train sacrifices in control it makes up for in speed and power. People are like that too. We can choose to focus all of our energy and strength into a singular path and achieve something great, but when we are prepared to sacrifice the freedom we have to change direction at a moments notice.
how many railroad lanterns are there now in mom and dad’s basement? come time to sell them we’ll count them up and sell them as a batch. maybe someone with a train-themed restaurant will buy them. maybe one of those restaurant shows will pay big bucks to outfit their makeover restaurant with them. dad was so nostalgic about trains for a while, he collected stuff, we got him train-themed items, calendars, VHS tapes, for his Bday and father’s day. but it’s sad, he was a boarderline hoarder I’d say. it will be nice to get rid of them.
´´ Railroad on the side of the wide is where the future be´´, said the gold miner
´´ This is simply a railroad for the time of reality´´, replied his wife.
Robert Kohlhammer
The Skeleton King lay his head on a sack of grain. It’s gonna be a long road from here on out. The man on the edge of the rail car began singing Jimmy Crack Corn. The Skeleton King sprang up and lopped the man’s head off with his cutlass. It’s gotta be a quite railroad.
Ever since I was little, I was always told what the “right” thing was. I rarely ever was told of other options. it was one way or another. As I’ve gotten older, more experienced in life, I know for a fact that there are so many other ways. I was so scared of what would happen if I didn’t stay on track. I feared failure, of being derailed. Now, I can’t say that I fully embrace failure, because it is the worst feeling; however, I can say that I have learned to embrace the fact that I can take failure as a lesson, or I can take it and forever dwell on it. After my own personal derailing, it was difficult to see the bigger picture. It was like it was the end of a map. As if it was not a map of the world, or even the state, but it was just of the city. I really had to open it up further to see all other directions I could take. I was not stuck on these two tracks. There were twists and turns and hills and tunnels, lefts and rights. I know now that my life is not a “right” way and a “wrong” way. I can make my decisions by feeling. It was so hard to open that heavy door to get out of the box. I took a leap, tumbled down but got back up. Not every one can fit onto one train. Not every one ends up in the same place. And not every one came from the same place. This is what make every person so unique. Regardless of my doubts and my guilt, I can see that I finally took the right train; now I need to find the right tools to detach the cargo that weighs me down. Free, from my caboose.
Railroads have become compasses
to us. We’ve never loved less
in the valley of these mountains,
never more outside its edge.
I prefer meetings so brief
they already drip nostalgia.
When the audience swoons
and says “maybe you’ll meet again,”
I hope we don’t.
It holds a stronger impact.
Railroads are paths to us.
I’ve been following one, and
while its hidden beneath the earth
my feet know the turns.
I don’t ask how I know.
I just know.
‘It wasn’t necessary to pick me up; I wouldn’t have missed the train The railroad runs just behind the house, I walk past the station every day.’
‘You never know what is around the corner,’ he said.
‘Don’t be creepy now. I’m not sure if you are looking after me or making sure I go. Mostly I think it is the latter. What are your plans for the weekend?’
‘Better pack warm clothes,’ he said. ‘It gets cold there at night. I wish I was coming with you.’
‘If you want, I can wait and we can go together.’
‘No, that would be selfish if me. You need this break.’
‘Maybe I will spend my time worrying about you. If you come we could have fun.’
The railroad path was long. Cut through a forest just outside of town. It marked the end of the city limits and the beginnings of where she was told very specifically where she could not go. If she wandered too far, she could end up lost to the fey.
She stood at the side of the tracks, waiting to be able to go again. Waiting for the train, without using it … she hated it. If she wanted to wait for the train, she’d go to the station.
Silke Seßler
therein a railroad track by my house, we use to hear the tracks just a chatter and the engine whistle blowing. and I remember that noise i
abby
The children at the clinic love to watch the trains go by. Some afternoons, when the afternoon cargo train announces its presence by gently rumbling the back wall of the clinic, we all go outside and climb up into the clubhouse at the playground and point and watch the graffiti-tattoo-ed cars clunk past us. Even kids who won’t make a peep will point and say “AAA!”
Kiki H
the metaphoric line to cross don’t know why though?????????
How long have you been working on the railroad? Has it really been all the live long day? Because last I checked, you were the heir to at least twenty million dollars as soon as your super wealthy father kicked the bucket. I guess you weren’t exactly proving to him that you earned it. So, nothing like an afternoon’s worth of labor and sweat, huh?
Only I’ve been working here way longer than you could ever imagine. I’d say you ought to learn from me, but you don’t seem to be the learning type.
Belinda Roddie
She watched the train out the window, chugging along with a consistent momentum. Objects in motion. He stirred in the bed behind her. “Hey.”
“Go back to sleep.”
“Come back to bed.”
“I will.”
“Okay.”
She could feel him waiting for her to come back. She didn’t even have to look over at him to know he was propped up on his elbow, that look of concern and awe on his face that he always looked at her with. She couldn’t bear that right now.
The train kept moving, endlessly long perhaps.
Railroad, why so often do abandoned railroads become a place for
moments captured in time
Does it stem from the magic of transportation
where it once gave man beauty of prospect in commerce
and perhaps entertainment
Yet it also ferried others to the worst
nowhere-in-sight.
Issie Kay
Railroad, why so often do abandoned railroads become a place for
moments captured in time
Does it stem from the magic of transportation
where it once gave man beauty of prospect in commerce
and perhaps entertainment
Yet it also ferried others to the worst
nowhere-in-sight.
I found the railroad, but the trains were long gone. Probably melted down to create these towers. Who knows, really, though. They’re done, along with the cars and the planes and that’s where our trouble really comes into play.
Katya strolled absent mindedly onto the rail road, stooping often to collect the lumps of coal left behind by the steam engines that frequented the rout. These lumps would keep her warm through the harsh winter that lay ahead of her. She was so engrossed in her train of thoughts that she did not hear the ominous rumble of the Warsaw-Poznan Express that was hurtling at breakneck speed in her direction. By the time she was jolted out of her thoughts, she was dead, crushed by the sheer weight of the train.
Katya strolled absent-mindedly onto the railroad, stooping down often to pick up lumps of coal left behind by the steam engines that frequented this route.These tiny lumps would become part of the tiny pile, that was gradually growing bigger and bigger, under the stove. These lumps would keep her warm through the harsh winter that lay ahead of her. She was so engrossed in her train of thoughts that she didn’t hear the ominous rumble of the Warsaw-Poznan Express moving in her direction at breakneck speed. By the time she was jolted out of her thoughts, she was dead, crushed by the sheer weight of the train.
We wandered down the railroad, following our feet as much as we followed the tracks. Occasionally we exchanged glances, our fingers touched. At night, I heard her breathe. We looked at the same stars but we were railroad apart. I wanted to follow her, follow the path of least resistance, but soon I saw that there were barriers and boxcars boxcars boxcars.
We wandered down the railroad, following our feet as much as we followed the tracks. Occasionally we exchanged glances, our fingers touched. At night, I heard her breathe. We looked at the same stars but we were a railroad apart
It was near there
that we met
and twenty six times a day
or more
mostly more
I think about you
and your smile
and the way that your laugh lights up my insides
and I know what it feels like to be loved
journey, life, travel, vacation, destination, end, beginning, middle,
She looked at the rusted tracks longingly, remembering the days when they were built. She had been alive for so long; too long. She would welcome death with open arms the day that it came.
the railroad just went through the tunnel, when a train goes through it it was felt like it went into a black hole
their paths seemed so uncertain
at times
and in years it would seem to falter
they only knew to carry on
the paths they’ve made
so long ago,
they fear the unknown
the paths long lost
to them.
The steam comes out of the top and mingles with my tears
The face in the window becomes distant and I run after
Until machine overpowers beast
Trains can only run on railroads.
A Railroad. A path of wood and steel that we constructed to guide the most powerful form of ground transportation that we have. The very nature of a railroad is based on predestination. Railroad tracks only go one direction at at time, and only forward or back. There is no freedom to a train’s mobility. Once moving however, trains become nigh unstoppable due to their shear momentum and mass. What the train sacrifices in control it makes up for in speed and power. People are like that too. We can choose to focus all of our energy and strength into a singular path and achieve something great, but when we are prepared to sacrifice the freedom we have to change direction at a moments notice.
how many railroad lanterns are there now in mom and dad’s basement? come time to sell them we’ll count them up and sell them as a batch. maybe someone with a train-themed restaurant will buy them. maybe one of those restaurant shows will pay big bucks to outfit their makeover restaurant with them. dad was so nostalgic about trains for a while, he collected stuff, we got him train-themed items, calendars, VHS tapes, for his Bday and father’s day. but it’s sad, he was a boarderline hoarder I’d say. it will be nice to get rid of them.
´´ Railroad on the side of the wide is where the future be´´, said the gold miner
´´ This is simply a railroad for the time of reality´´, replied his wife.
The Skeleton King lay his head on a sack of grain. It’s gonna be a long road from here on out. The man on the edge of the rail car began singing Jimmy Crack Corn. The Skeleton King sprang up and lopped the man’s head off with his cutlass. It’s gotta be a quite railroad.
Ever since I was little, I was always told what the “right” thing was. I rarely ever was told of other options. it was one way or another. As I’ve gotten older, more experienced in life, I know for a fact that there are so many other ways. I was so scared of what would happen if I didn’t stay on track. I feared failure, of being derailed. Now, I can’t say that I fully embrace failure, because it is the worst feeling; however, I can say that I have learned to embrace the fact that I can take failure as a lesson, or I can take it and forever dwell on it. After my own personal derailing, it was difficult to see the bigger picture. It was like it was the end of a map. As if it was not a map of the world, or even the state, but it was just of the city. I really had to open it up further to see all other directions I could take. I was not stuck on these two tracks. There were twists and turns and hills and tunnels, lefts and rights. I know now that my life is not a “right” way and a “wrong” way. I can make my decisions by feeling. It was so hard to open that heavy door to get out of the box. I took a leap, tumbled down but got back up. Not every one can fit onto one train. Not every one ends up in the same place. And not every one came from the same place. This is what make every person so unique. Regardless of my doubts and my guilt, I can see that I finally took the right train; now I need to find the right tools to detach the cargo that weighs me down. Free, from my caboose.
Railroads have become compasses
to us. We’ve never loved less
in the valley of these mountains,
never more outside its edge.
I prefer meetings so brief
they already drip nostalgia.
When the audience swoons
and says “maybe you’ll meet again,”
I hope we don’t.
It holds a stronger impact.
Railroads are paths to us.
I’ve been following one, and
while its hidden beneath the earth
my feet know the turns.
I don’t ask how I know.
I just know.
‘It wasn’t necessary to pick me up; I wouldn’t have missed the train The railroad runs just behind the house, I walk past the station every day.’
‘You never know what is around the corner,’ he said.
‘Don’t be creepy now. I’m not sure if you are looking after me or making sure I go. Mostly I think it is the latter. What are your plans for the weekend?’
‘Better pack warm clothes,’ he said. ‘It gets cold there at night. I wish I was coming with you.’
‘If you want, I can wait and we can go together.’
‘No, that would be selfish if me. You need this break.’
‘Maybe I will spend my time worrying about you. If you come we could have fun.’
The railroad path was long. Cut through a forest just outside of town. It marked the end of the city limits and the beginnings of where she was told very specifically where she could not go. If she wandered too far, she could end up lost to the fey.
She stood at the side of the tracks, waiting to be able to go again. Waiting for the train, without using it … she hated it. If she wanted to wait for the train, she’d go to the station.
therein a railroad track by my house, we use to hear the tracks just a chatter and the engine whistle blowing. and I remember that noise i
The children at the clinic love to watch the trains go by. Some afternoons, when the afternoon cargo train announces its presence by gently rumbling the back wall of the clinic, we all go outside and climb up into the clubhouse at the playground and point and watch the graffiti-tattoo-ed cars clunk past us. Even kids who won’t make a peep will point and say “AAA!”
the metaphoric line to cross don’t know why though?????????
How long have you been working on the railroad? Has it really been all the live long day? Because last I checked, you were the heir to at least twenty million dollars as soon as your super wealthy father kicked the bucket. I guess you weren’t exactly proving to him that you earned it. So, nothing like an afternoon’s worth of labor and sweat, huh?
Only I’ve been working here way longer than you could ever imagine. I’d say you ought to learn from me, but you don’t seem to be the learning type.
She watched the train out the window, chugging along with a consistent momentum. Objects in motion. He stirred in the bed behind her. “Hey.”
“Go back to sleep.”
“Come back to bed.”
“I will.”
“Okay.”
She could feel him waiting for her to come back. She didn’t even have to look over at him to know he was propped up on his elbow, that look of concern and awe on his face that he always looked at her with. She couldn’t bear that right now.
The train kept moving, endlessly long perhaps.
Railroad, why so often do abandoned railroads become a place for
moments captured in time
Does it stem from the magic of transportation
where it once gave man beauty of prospect in commerce
and perhaps entertainment
Yet it also ferried others to the worst
nowhere-in-sight.
Railroad, why so often do abandoned railroads become a place for
moments captured in time
Does it stem from the magic of transportation
where it once gave man beauty of prospect in commerce
and perhaps entertainment
Yet it also ferried others to the worst
nowhere-in-sight.