a poem: about steam trains

(yet another brief synopsis)
as i said in my previous synopsis; about that friend who was more than just a friend for a while, this was one of the poems i wrote about him. Or for him, you could argue either way but it was my first ever slam poem. It is quite pleonastic and i apologise, but i seemed to have too much to say and that was shown evidently throughout this poem.

here goes…

There is this steam train,
who is quite hard to keep track of,
but ironically,
tracks were, for a long time,
the only thing she ever knew.
And looking back,
She had a respectable amount
of self esteem,
and produced an excessive amount
of coal fuelled steam;
like any steam train would.
sitting silently, stationery
each night,
she would always think about how
her route never really varied.
and as decades went by,
her memories became history,
and her purpose turned to mystery.
You see,
the thing with steam trains,
is that once they run out of coal,
it’s very hard to keep them moving,
because their engine stops turning,
and their souls stop burning.
And technology
and society was changing.
Rearranging her priorities.
And because of that, she,
at many times was naive,
and believed
everything people said about her.
From her parents complaining that;
too many times,
she’d gone off the rails,
lost track,
of her own tracks,
and refused go back.
To these new speedy trains,
with their fancy electric engines,
acting so incredibly vain,
they’ve lost their character.
‘you’re not unique,
you’re old,
you’re a dying breed,’
and indeed,
their insults made her bleed.
They would tell her that she was too slow,
that her technology was outdated,
and because of that,
she felt hated.
The judgement about her loud noise,
her excessive steam,
and how the coal in her engine,
was coal in her soul;
a darkened black dust,
that settled into her hollows.
she felt an overwhelming
amount of pressure,
so she slammed on the breaks,
in hopes to take a break,
from everything that was breaking inside her.
And she became blinded by
her own tunnel vision.
Refusing to widen her view,
because,
why would she need to?
Her own ignorance,
began to consume her.

That was until she met this train,
one day in the pouring rain,
and he grinned,
feeling the sudden urge to smile,
which was
something he hadn’t done in a while.

In her eyes,
He was strange,
not your typical electric train.
His paint was chipped,
his wheels screeched,
his doors shuddered,
he had flaws.
But that’s not what she saw.
There was a strange sense
of beauty
about his imperfections,
about his lack of direction,
and his perspicuous disconnection.
He would always have a wise look
in his eyes,
something that he could not disguise,
and it made her curious.
There was always more,
than she had realised before,
that made him who he was.
And slowly,
their contemplations,
became conversations,
and their communications,
started containing subtle flirtations.

But one day,
he found her crying,
her tears refusing to dry,
because she was denying
any nice words he tried to comfort her with.
And so she her spilled her story.
Which took him aback.
because these verbal attacks
had quite evidently created wounds.
Not the kind of wounds you see,
but the kind that you feel,
which are some of the most
difficult to heal.
But he was clever however,
and he told her that:
‘everybody goes off track sometimes,
but detours,
are what make up your journey,
and even when you reach your final stop,
it’s not about the destination,
it’s about that journey.
So fly all the way off the rails,
lose track of time,
diverge from these established lines,
and fuel your soul,
with the adventures you dream of
even if you’re powered by coal.’
And she didn’t know how he did it,
how something so small,
could make her entire world change,
so there was no darkness left at all.
And as time went on,
she began to realise that,
when he was there
it sparked something.
She could feel this,
untameable surge of electricity
coursing through her.
And when he smiled,
her heart went wild,
because nothing
had ever made her feel
this alive before.
The hours they would spend together,
would never be enough,
and so saying goodbye,
would always feel a little tough.
But no matter how promising
their friendship seemed,
deep down,
she felt something more.
Something that at first,
she could ignore
but now,
it filled her engine,
with increasing pressure,
a different kind of steam,
that intoxicated all her dreams;
And that terrified her.
Because she had no idea how to tell him
how she felt and
how his presence made her soul melt.
And despite everything he accepted her for,
the idea,
would always disappear,
because she was scared.
She was scared to lose this amazing friendship,
scared that it would rip,
into a thousand pieces,
the moment she shared her feelings.

But what she didn’t know,
was that he could tell.
Because sometimes,
actions do in fact speak louder than words,
and the words,
that he never heard,
didn’t need to be spoken.
Because he knew that if she did
she might feel a bit broken.
But he was willing to piece
her back together,
whether or not she wanted him to.
And somehow he knew
that she needed him,
in the same way that
he needed her.
This kind of
mutual love,
that no matter how hard he pushed,
he could not shove,
because it was real.
So one day,
he looked her directly in the eyes,
smiled a grin
that he could not disguise,
and told her how much
she meant to him.
and at first,
she thought he was lying,
but the sincerity behind his smile,
and the way he paused
every once in a while,
to look deeper into her eyes
was too undeniable.
He said that the only kind of time
he ever lost track of
was the time that
he spent with her,
and the lines he was confined to were
no where near enough
to deter,
what he felt.
And so,
She clipped him to the
back of her freight,
not caring about his
unusually heavy weight,
and sped off.
Ignoring the tracks
because she knew that
these established lines
would indeed keep her confined
and the only way
that she would ever feel whole,
would be to follow
the adventures
that lived in her soul.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s