Primal (new poem, Edit 3)

[jdvanwijk]

Edit 3 (SkaaDee, trueenigma, milo)

Our living room shook violently
every ten minutes or so;
my brother and I spent hours
howling as the trains crashed by.

A funeral today, another
bridge support crumbling down.
And like a ghost, I appear

in front of my old home.
They buried the tracks,
topped it with a little park.

I close my eyes, hear
the fast train approaching,

inhale all the air
in the park, the streets, the city,

the light from the windows,
the sun -

and let it all out.


Edit 2 (Heslopian, milo, trueenigma, beaufort)
Primal

Our guest room shook violently
every ten minutes or so.
It was small, but treasured: my brother
and I spent hours howling
at the trains crashing by.

A funeral today, another
support of the bridge down.
And like a ghost, I appear

in front of my old home.
They buried the tracks,
placed a little park on top.

I close my eyes,
fast train approaching,

and inhale all the air
in the park, the streets, the city,

the light from the houses,
the cars, the sun itself -

and let it all out.

Edit 1 (Heslopian, SkaaDee)

Our guest room would shake violently
every ten minutes or so. It was small,
useless, but most treasured: my brother
and I'd spend hours there, howling
and roaring at the trains crashing by.

A funeral today, another
support of the bridge gone down.
And like a ghost, I appeared
in front of my old home;

it was quiet.
They've buried the tracks,
placed a little park on top.

I closed my eyes,
fast train approaching -

inhaled all the air in the park,
the streets, the city;
inhaled all light from the houses,
the cars, the sun itself -

and let it all out.


Original

The room would shake violently
every ten minutes or so.
It was small, useless,
most treasured: my brother
and I would spend hours there,
roaring and howling at the trains
crashing by.

A funeral today, another
support of the bridge has gone down.
And like a ghost, I appeared
in front of our old house.
It was quiet:
they've buried the tracks,
placed a little park on top.

I closed my eyes,
fast train approaching.

Inhaled all the air in the park,
the streets, the city;
inhaled all the light from the houses,
the cars, the sun itself -

and let it all out.

This poem is a bastard child of my poems "Whoosh" and "Primal", mixed with some memories of living very near the railroad tracks when I was young, and jderimend's observation that all poetic composition is a rally cry against the inevitability of death. Oh, and a splash of "Cabaret".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zu_aHXfr7Sg