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great ending! -----Original Message----- From: Max Richards Sent: Wednesday, April 27, 2016 6:15 PM To: [log in to unmask] Subject: Re: On a country rail platform / poem by Kenneth Slessor The Night Ride [layout & punctuation not guaranteed] Gas flaring on the yellow platform; voices running up and down; Milk-tins in cold dented silver; half-awake I stare, Pull up the blind, blink out - all sounds are drugged; the slow blowing of passengers asleep; engines yawning; water in heavy drips; Black, sinister travellers, lumbering up the station, one moment in the window, hooked over bags; hurrying, unknown faces - boxes with strange labels - all groping clumsily to mysterious ends, out of the gaslight, dragged by private Fates, their echoes die. The dark train shakes and plunges; bells cry out, the night-ride starts again. Soon I shall look out into nothing but blackness, pale, windy fields, the old roar and knock of the rails melts in dull fury. Pull down the blind. Sleep. Sleep Nothing but grey, rushing rivers of bush outside. Gaslight and milk-cans. Of Rapptown I recall nothing else. Kenneth Slessor On Apr 27, 2016, at 9:59, Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > Well, I like the girl here, but otherwise would take 2 from the first set. > > It is up-to-date, but it also reminds of one of (I think) Australia’s most > highly thought of poems, Kenneth Slessor’s ‘The Night Ride,’ & that sets > rather a high bar…(in that its image have stayed with me for years, even > if I don’t remember the exact lines). > > Doug >> On Apr 26, 2016, at 9:41 PM, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]> >> wrote: >> >> Thanks, Max, Andrew. >> >> Unsnappishly, I have had another go. My hesitation with 'no life form' >> was >> that trees were obviously about in the area, Andrew. Maybe I have >> addressed >> that here. I didn't realise the Anzac connections till afterwards: pine, >> uniform. It was more that the rail lounge, counter and toilets were >> closed >> but the trains kept running. >> >> Max, thanks for yours below. 'only life' I might get away with if readers >> didn't count trees. So, barring ents, my new version might pass muster. >> 'ambulatory' might have Anzac associations too I thought, many now (all?) >> unable to amble if veterans. I do see the structure you have, Max, is >> attractive, instructive but I thinks I might stick with the military >> precision of the quatrains. I accept your hyphenated suggestion on >> rail-straight. Maybe by altering the gender at the end, it might seem >> more >> of a chance of being a peace train? >> >> >> On a country railway platform 3 >> >> The only ambulatory life forms here, >> scatter-strung-out, ready, we wait. >> A pine wind scuffs crisp pin oak leaves, >> rustles trousers, riffles skirts. We gaze >> >> hard into rail-straight distance until >> a far-off glint reassures. Anticipatory >> milling kicks in. No uniformed presence, >> a computerised voice crackles. The 11.55 >> >> from Ballan, stopping all stations to Southern >> Cross now arriving. Restrooms and ticket >> counter remain closed. Anzac Day. >> A tow-haired girl respools her yo-yo, boards. >> >> bw >> 27.4.16 >> >> Bill >> >> >> On Wednesday, 27 April 2016, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> >> wrote: >> >>> Well, Bill, I favor inclusion, combination and expansion. >>> I wouldn’t mind being able to see more on the platform >>> than just you and the boy. >>> >>> Max >>> >>> On Apr 26, 2016, at 15:49, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask] >>> <javascript:;>> wrote: >>> >>>> On a country railway platform 4 >>> >>>> Ranged, ready, >>> we want out of here - >>> >>>> we’re the only life in town - >>>> we wait to get away. >>> >>>> a pine wind scuffs >>>> crisp, crablike pinoak leaves >>>> and rustles trousers. >>>> >>>> We gaze hard into rail-straight distance >>>> till a far-off glint reassures. >>> >>>> Anticipatory milling kicks in. >>>> No uniformed presence but >>>> a computerised voice crackles. >>>> >>>> The 11.55 from Ballan, stopping all >>>> stations to Southern Cross is now >>>> arriving. >>> >>>> Neither restrooms nor ticket >>>> counter have been open. Anzac Day. >>> >>>> A tow-haired boy pockets his yo-yo. >>>> >>>> bw >>>> 26.4.16 >>>> >>>> On a country railway platform 3 >>>> >>>> Ranged, ready, >>>> we want out of here. >>>> A pine wind scuffs >>>> crisp pin oak leaves >>>> and rustles trousers. >>>> >>>> We gaze hard into rail straight distance >>>> until a far-off glint reassures. >>>> Anticipatory milling kicks in. >>>> No uniformed presence but >>>> a computerised voice crackles. >>>> >>>> The 11.55 from Ballan, stopping all >>>> stations to Southern Cross is now >>>> arriving. Neither restrooms nor ticket >>>> counter have been open. Anzac Day. >>>> A tow-haired boy pockets his yo-yo. >>>> >>>> bw >>>> 27.4.16 >>>> >>>> Bill >>> > > Douglas Barbour > [log in to unmask] > https://eclecticruckus.wordpress.com/ > > Recent publications: (With Sheila E Murphy) Continuations & Continuations > 2 (UofAPress). > Recording Dates (Rubicon Press). > > Transforming once reasonable human beings into gullible idiots is one of > the biggest businesses we have. > > Charles Simic.