Quotes about rail, page 3
The Rhyme Of The Three Sealers
Away by the lands of the Japanee
Where the paper lanterns glow
And the crews of all the shipping drink
In the house of Blood Street Joe,
At twilight, when the landward breeze
Brings up the harbour noise,
And ebb of Yokohama Bay
Swigs chattering through the buoys,
In Cisco's Dewdrop Dining-Rooms
They tell the tale anew
Of a hidden sea and a hidden fight,
When the ~Baltic~ ran from the ~Northern Light~
And the ~Stralsund~ fought the two.
Now this is the Law of the Muscovite, that he proves with shot and steel,
When ye come by his isles in the Smoky Sea ye must not take the seal,
Where the gray sea goes nakedly between the weed-hung shelves,
And the little blue fox he is bred for his skin
and the seal they breed for themselves;
For when the ~matkas~ seek the shore to drop their pups aland,
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poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Beyond highways and roads, we need more money for mass transit, intercity passenger rail and freight rail. We have a long way to go to bridge the funding gaps.
quote by Bill Lipinski
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mumbai In August
Mumbai never sleeps
But in rainy it creeps
When August sets in
For days it is resting.
Rain disrupt road, rail, air
Impossible go any where
Water logged on roads
Streets looked more broad.
Commuter’s morning start
Getting ready for the work
They packed tiffins taken
Reach nearest rail station.
Find railway track sunken
From station they return
On announcement listened
Their train is cancelled.
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poem by S.D. Tiwari
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I Am Not The Freight Train
I am not the freight train
I am not the rail or the wheel
I am not the conductor or the caboose
I am not the the mail car
Neither the dining car nor the meal
I am not the rail or the spike
I am not the timbers or the pike
I am not the hammer or the strike
Neither the coal nor the fire
Neither the electricity nor the wire
I am hard and cold
I glow red and gold
and rust as I grow old
strong and bold
real
forged
beaten
blued
hard ened
quenched
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poem by James T. Adair
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terrorism ***** MRT and LRT RIZAL BOMBING
Zooming
roaring
coming
falling not from sky
humming like bees
rushing-hour
a city train, it's a metro rail transit
passing
rail road track
along EDSA
goes to and fro
escaping from traffic jam
curing headache commuters
quick halt
dropping
snatching token passengers
then buzzing
zooming falling not from sky
it is the city MRT rushing - hour city train
passing by malls, galleria, shrine
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poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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It sifts from Leaden Sieves
311
It sifts from Leaden Sieves—
It powders all the Wood.
It fills with Alabaster Wool
The Wrinkles of the Road—
It makes an Even Face
Of Mountain, and of Plain—
Unbroken Forehead from the East
Unto the East again—
It reaches to the Fence—
It wraps it Rail by Rail
Till it is lost in Fleeces—
It deals Celestial Vail
To Stump, and Stack—and Stem—
A Summer's empty Room—
Acres of Joints, where Harvests were,
Recordless, but for them--
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poem by Emily Dickinson
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Drunken Pig
from famished ashes upon ashes
through broken bone to broken bone
heedlessly smashing through the temple
of the weakened and alone
from salty nail to salty nail
into the sentimental tides
never to croon of anything
except the thrashing of your lies
from spineless lashes upon lashes
through shattered trust to shattered trust
never to bare sincerity
(Continue on… do what you must)
from tarnished rail to tarnished rail
unto her helpless, feeble cries
never to show your sympathy
please, drunken pig… take your prize
from bloodied gashes upon gashes
and callous stone to callous stone
heedlessly smashing through the temple
of the weakened and alone
poem by Ruth warren
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The Train Winds West From Wagga
The train winds west from wagga
Me - sitting sweating from the sun
My swag up on the swaying rack
Me - beholden to no-one.
It's a morning on the sky line
The sun slides slanting rays
The countryside is counting
In years and not in days.
Way out west of wagga
Is where the journey ends
I’m off to find my people
And cast off city friends.
My mob came from out that country
That the white folks made their own
They sent us off to rail yards
And Redfern was our home.
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poem by David Keig
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Way Out West Of Wagga
The train winds west from wagga
Me - sitting sweating from the sun
My swag up on the swaying rack
Now beholden to no-one.
It's a morning on the sky line
The sun slides slanting rays
The countryside is counting
In years and not in days.
Way out west of wagga
Is why the journey ends
I’m off to find my people
And cast off city friends.
My mob came from out that country
That the white folks made their own
They sent us off to rail yards
And Redfern was our home.
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poem by David Keig
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Vic and Vo
When one remembers Vo Rogue the famous race horse one remembers his trainer Victory Rail
For they were great together and they never seemed to fail
To give value for money Vo Rogue the gallant bay
Was a champion on pace galloper who often led all of the way
The mighty weight for age horse who galloped without shoes
He won many group races and was seldom seen to lose
Well trained by the likeable Vic and ridden by Cyril Small
Their feats Australian racegoers forever will recall.
Not one bred in the purple and of an unfashionable breed
But when the starting gates flew open Vo bounded to the lead
An out and out front runner he did not need a racing plan
He galloped on relentlessly and 'twas beat him if you can.
Since Vo Rogue was a champion a decade has gone by
And on looking back those years have sped how time just seems to fly
He must be getting on in years and time has left him slow
And where he lives in retirement now I wouldn't even know
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poem by Francis Duggan
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