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On Trains and Swimming

January 1, 2018

On Trains and Swimming


  • When neatly the trains align at the final destination of a tiring working day’s agony

smoothly floating
on rampaged rails into the hopeless home harbor-

  • When no one’s watching their night sky dance, blind passengers and smoke,

  • when the agitated heart of the lonesome traveller rests
    from fulfilling one of life’s quests

  • When the silver fish glide through the water
    each finding their niche in the light rails of the sea-

  • When shimmering fins touch the glittering water bodies
    and the silent sound forms bubbles in my ear-

  • When the restless traveller arrives at home
    she pulls her anonymous hat
    off her crown
    to bend down
    and unlace her metal boots-

  • Then when his feet touch the malleable white marble
    soft like the surface of the pool,

the floor hugs his feet,

cradles them to sleep,

until they weep

for their mother’s soft bosom

like a baby-
so lonesome

  • When the sound of the engine
    drowns in the density of water molecules-

  • When my eyes cannot help but closing their blinds-

  • When the hypnotizing humming sedates
    every last traveller’s saddened soul

  • When the train reaches the Northernmost pole
    and the sleepy eyes awake
    just in time for the bistro’s breakfast cake

  • When the head breaks through the surface
    gasping for air
    awaking from a dreamy haze
    forgetting where
    to direct a refreshing new gaze
    at the strokes that lie ahead
    turning her back
    to all the layers
    that had to be shed 

This is the point where
heaven meets hell






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