Friday, August 15, 2014

Two poems about trains

Train of Thought

Every now and then, you climb aboard my train of thought
with that stereo from hell blasting away, awakening 
the passengers from their humdrum existence...

(Now look at the riot in my head!
You're one little brat I dread!)

Still, the thought of you never 
entering my consciousness
again, makes me quite

Trains (for Kaleb)

I don't remember who always noticed the train first: You, little three-year-old boy, or me, 
35 years old and making the most of what we had. Every time it appeared 
in the distance -- initially as a blur at the vanishing point of the LRT 
or MRT railway -- we'd always say, "Train!" You in your excited 
tiny but low voice (yes, that's how you spoke); me, 
in a lower voice. 

(I think I always saw the train first, given my height advantage. 
And I always kept you away from the edge 
of the boarding platform.)

Those train rides...

One time you were so happy! You kept smiling on your seat, 
your delighted eyes on me, squeezing my hand as I stood 
watching over you (oftentimes the trains were full).
I kept squeezing back, and the world 
passed us by.

I'll always remember you, Kaleb, and will always carry you 
in my heart everywhere I go...

Sorry I decided not to see you anymore. Hopefully
it's for the better, as you deserve better. 

Nay, you deserve the best!

Someday, when you're grown up, 
you'll be riding trains...alone. 

And perhaps in search of me.
If I'm still alive by that time, 
you'll find me...

You'll find me.

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