because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse

the loneliness of train whistles

tracks over Mayo
the loneliness of train whistles
has been known
to keep us up at night.

when there is moon,
we play hopscotch
onΒ  old sidewalks

with chalked silhouettes
of desire. when there is not,
we walk white-footed the rails

by the river, counting
darks between shadows
until the sun

comes and grows and
our backs bend too heavy
so we turn them

from the creosote-soaked
tang of the city
to dig holes in dry dirt,

filling them up
with all the weight
of emptiness.

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34 responses

  1. Agh, the exquisite pang of longing – no one does it like you Poetessa. You start on a great sensation (Loneliness of train whistles) and end even better on the “the weight of emptiness.” You’ve been away too long, my dear.

    September 3, 2013 at 2:27 pm

    • It’s good to be back, Mosk! πŸ™‚ Thanks for not giving up on me.

      September 4, 2013 at 9:08 am

  2. Lovely!

    September 3, 2013 at 3:12 pm

  3. Oh…indeed a brilliant write with all the ‘pangs’ of loneliness so eloquently embedded in the poem.

    September 3, 2013 at 3:14 pm

  4. digging holes to fill them with our emptiness….really nice close…i love the train whistles and clacks…grew up with them at the foot of the hill…creosote…you gave it smell….that is some nasty stuff, just saying….smiles.

    September 3, 2013 at 4:07 pm

    • thanks, b.! *smiles back*

      September 4, 2013 at 10:43 am

  5. Well it’s great to have you back.

    And everythings aces as always.

    September 3, 2013 at 4:52 pm

    • πŸ™‚ gracias.

      September 4, 2013 at 10:44 am

  6. scotthastiepoet

    Very evocative and rather tender piece – I enjoyed this and will be back for more…. With Best Wishes Scott http://www.scotthastie.com

    September 3, 2013 at 6:04 pm

  7. I grew up on a blackwater river right next to railroad tracks..whenever I hear a trainwhistledamper it is evidence of the past and always a whimper of regret from past hurts never felt again…

    September 3, 2013 at 6:16 pm

  8. That long sad whistle reverberatesates through me.

    September 3, 2013 at 6:37 pm

  9. Like sneaking out after dark on a summer night. Lovely~

    September 3, 2013 at 6:50 pm

  10. ugh beautiful yet sad, lonely write… weaved in a way that there is a sense of peace that slighty hums throughout…

    September 3, 2013 at 7:36 pm

  11. I love every line πŸ™‚ Welcome back πŸ™‚

    September 3, 2013 at 9:00 pm

    • thanks, girl! πŸ™‚

      September 4, 2013 at 10:44 am

  12. hisfirefly

    “counting
    darks between shadows
    until the sun”

    love love love this

    September 3, 2013 at 9:10 pm

  13. This struck me as a collage of wonderful memories from childhood… I suppose it’s because I had similar experiences growing up. But your last line made me feel a little sad. I so wish I still had those experiences every day, that I didn’t need to grow up. Life is filled with so many different things though. Luckily I am a marauder of life, robbing away memories of those special times. And I keep them locked away in a very special place that only poems and dreams remember…. I think you do too. lovely poem.

    September 3, 2013 at 9:16 pm

    • a marauder of life… i like that.

      September 4, 2013 at 10:45 am

  14. Tiffany Coffman

    I am extremely fond of the sound of trains. There is something beautiful but painfully lonely about a train whistle, and you captured that so eloquently here. I felt and heard every nuance. I loved every word.

    September 3, 2013 at 9:31 pm

  15. …the melancholy is palpable…. i’ve seen some vintage trains when i was younger & i know they sing like that… smiles… loved this!

    September 4, 2013 at 12:40 am

    • thanks, kelvin! welcome back any time!

      September 4, 2013 at 10:46 am

  16. kinda creepy that the moment I clicked on your link and read the title a train passed by blowing it’s whistle! Ha! Anyway, nice job, I loved the opening especially. Thank you for sharing this πŸ™‚

    September 4, 2013 at 1:45 am

    • i’m sure it was just coincidence πŸ˜‰

      September 4, 2013 at 10:46 am

      • Ha ha yes. A creepy one lol

        September 4, 2013 at 11:02 am

  17. living near trains, I appreciate ‘loneliness of train whistle’ that hollow bemoaning in the empty darkness, drawing you from the sleep of numbness to the pangs of emptiness. beautiful poem

    September 4, 2013 at 2:15 am

  18. The second stanza just blew me away, and I was enthralled thereafter. Terrific.

    September 4, 2013 at 6:34 am

    • wow. thanks so much, Misky.

      September 4, 2013 at 10:47 am

  19. Anonymous

    loved it!

    September 4, 2013 at 11:14 am

  20. Anonymous

    Loved this one – I felt your heart.

    September 4, 2013 at 11:30 am

  21. I seem to recall train related theme present quite often in your poems.

    September 6, 2013 at 10:54 am

    • you recall correctly. πŸ™‚ it comes of having them always nearby.

      September 12, 2013 at 7:09 am

  22. Impresive. Every time I read it I get something new out of it. Impressive.
    ~CGR.Pink

    September 12, 2013 at 8:07 am

    • thanks, CGR. πŸ™‚

      September 13, 2013 at 8:23 am

  23. Zia Vanger

    It’s always a bad idea to live near the station. But very well written. Its a lovely piece.

    October 21, 2013 at 9:33 am

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