"Last Train" by Leonid Afremov
You are at the train station. As you wait for your train to arrive, you ponder about your life asking yourself important questions like: Am I really comfortable with where things are? Where I am headed? Who owns my time? These are only a few of the questions which are at the core of my current project I am creating. But what could poetry have to do with any of that, you may ask. Why would poetry be such an important form of literary expression in a world that is currently turned upside down? The answer is not simple, but I shall provide an example of why that is so. Others would harshly criticize saying that poetry is not an answer for the current world pandemic crisis, for example, and to them I would say the following. No, poetry cannot solve a world pandemic but poetry can serve the mind in ways which are invaluable to human life experience in that it could prepare the mind to face a world pandemic or anything that life throws at us. Being mentally prepared to face challenging times, in a time of isolation and social distancing, might serve invaluable to many. Poetry can also be an instigator of peace which is much needed in this world. Some may claim that poetry is a lost art. Well, to those folks, my answer would be simple. If it's a lost art I am on a mission to resurrect it, and I will spend the rest of my life doing so because I want people to know both its beauty and its power.
In Awe of Trains (XII)
Carmen A. Cisnadean
For my life’s gnawing aches I seek no magic bullet
But bravery surmounting the surly inner fret
Like the committed shooting steam of trains
Perseveres despite sky’s cataract of raindrops frigid.
My driving wheels advance despite my melancholy
Over life’s bumpy hills and their hinterlands
With exigency demanding a passion stronger
Than the burning heat bursting within steam engines.
I do not fear the ride despite the troubled weather
Which aims to freeze the hardwearing pistons
For fear is coal I burn inside the firebox’s chambers
I calm the agitated boiler with my painstaking labor.
To free my heart I send away the burdening disquiet
Up the smokebox through the chimney’s hallway
Via ear-piercing screeches of escaping smog
I release unease so ease can fully occupy my heart.
I laud the force by which they carry their so heavy loads
Across the rails that grasp the passing landscapes
With a perseverance that augments my moxie
I am in awe of trains and their appearance dauntless.
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