the metro smelt of piss and blood. He had been there tonight feasting on the hearts of the innocents; innocents who has expelled urine at the sight of such a monstrous beast. I stooped under the tape which sectioned off the body from the masses that began to gather
A Metro is one huge city. A huge city where different people wpould meet. They would intersect in our lives, either in a good way or in a bad way, like how we would do to theirs. who have you met in the metro?
metro city, is that a thing?
im afraid of the metro
i worry that someone will push me in front of it and ill die horribly
if that happens please push whoever pushed me too
but what if that creates a chain?
so nevermind, much too morbid
new yawk new yawk
the subway death I would never want to get pushed in front of that. i dont know where im going, ive always been bad at directions. isnt there a band named after that? i think i used to like them in eigth grade… new york city is great but i dont wanna die.
I waited for the Metro bus to take me to my son School, but I did not realize that I was at the wrong bus top. I caught a taxi and I arrived in time at the school in time to see his performance in the dance completion.
MetroNorth, LIRR, New Jersey Transit, Amtrak, rails and subways taking me away from all of this heartbreak. I’ll leave you here forgotten in the heart of my city.
Wyjechałam na wakacje do Warszawy. Tam udałam się do metra. Miałam problem z kupieniem biletu ale pomogła mi pewna miła pani. Była piękną kobietą, z długimi, falującymi, czarnymi włosami. Wyglądała jak prawdziwa dama. Towarzyszyła mi aż do końca podróży metrem.
Metro could mean a metropolitan city or it could mean a subway system as it does in my city of residence. Metro, the city is generally based on the population and the level of development of the city. My city is a metro and has a metro system too!
bound by the globe I think to much depression
is at the risk of the moonshine wine that appears just
before
I change
my head you can touch the stairs of emotions running as
I would kissed you still 22 and its just time time time
nothing more nothing less
bound in thedisre I admire the wquarless tier
of the moonshine wire a tthe tiameness of time
and the yellowish rain is found outside the pane
of the seashell reflection
chilling your temptations is the only divistion
of your taking the train through a division of pain
when a man say hello
thinking
of the swaure in the millimitere deer
founding the witer of the breakign dawn
where the doctors respect the buldings of the fightin spawn
in the mignidght I hear a word of the break a motortruck is left alone
in the mistake of time
The Metro station was packed. And yet I still had to find a way to weave through the crowd without getting cursed at, stepped on, or tripped over lest I end up late at my first day as an intern at a literary magazine.
Let’s just say, the day did not start well.
The metro area was filled with police cars and federal agents as they hunted for the suspects. Their activities that night had alert authorities who converged on the city from all area. Their hope was that this could be resolved without anymore bloodshed.
she went onto the metro and stayed on the train until it took her anywhere. She didn’t care where she was going. She just wanted to get out of town. She sat and waited until the train reached its final destination and when she departed, she realised… She was nowhere… but this was home.
the metro north. us. that cold day in new york. we’d never been to the city; hadn’t even been out of our own state. but we saw it that day, dark and cold and shining and interesting and repulsive all at the same time. just us, riding on that train, each bump in the tracks another step toward growing older. to this day i can’t remember why we came home.
Not many people understand what I say when the word “dark” comes to mind. Most think of demons, the fear of the unknown. No one would understand that I truly mean home. Where I feel more comfortable. The unknown itself. No light save for the passing train. I am not the normalcy you expect. I am the living. I am the dead.
light, dark, light, dark. I stare out the window my eyes slowly closing. My breathing sync with the trains movement. The booming voice shouting out the stops jolted be out of my doze but I quickly slumped back as I realized it wasn’t my turn to exit yet.
Though dusk had only broken in for a few minutes, the metro was overcrowded with men and women and children — as if it were already the time to return to their homes after an exhausting day from work, excited to seeing their families once more. Policemen were stationed around every entrance and exit, searching for an unusual suspect amidst the sea of groggy, ill-tempered civilians.
A little boy, swallowed by the crowd, rushed frantically towards the train headed for ___. Just before the doors closed in, with everyone inside packed in like sardines in a bottle, a certain policeman looked at the little boy square in the eye. He gestured a thumbs up to the boy, and smiled sadly. With a stifled sob, the boy turned away from the door.
The train sped away.
In the next minute, the bomb detonated.
It’s a rat race, squashing and piling on to the metro. You’re just a number, a face in the crowd if you’re lucky. Just one of thousands trying to get from A to B, a curse of the modern age.
Whats the thoughts that come upon my mind when i see this word metro. It’s a traveling agent. it takes you from one place to another. Some within minutes, some within days. Time doesn’t matter for this guy. it just does it’s job.
I rode the metro today towards downtown L.A. I haven’t seen the city like this in ages. The tunnels rush past me like I’m descending down into the depths of the Earth. I reach my destination, my companion is a homeless man; dirty, disheveled, and smells of piss.
i want a spontaneous getaway. i want to look outside my window and see the waves of buildings appear before my eyes. i want to see the tunnels cave in, giving a sense of closure to bring me to where my home belongs in suburbia.
the metro is a marvelous place to meet new people. from extravagant to bland to beautiful to strange, it is a place where you could immerse yourself to the culture of your city.
today i took the metro to school. i don’t usually do this, but on the particular day i decided that i was obliged to take the bus. the bus was unusually crowded, partly due to the inclement weather, but that did not stop the many pedestrians walking down the street. i sat away from the general population and as i glanced up, there was a woman who caught my attention. he was small in structure, with an unusual grimace on her face which lighted up the whole bus.
i love the metro. the tunnels are like woosh. i also love looking at the different people who use it. haha metrosexuals. i realy do want to move to the city and live my dreams and hopefully use the metro more often then i do right now
metro PCS, metro station. yes, metro station. the city, the big city. where they dwell and swell until their heart’s content but never getting their fill beucase there it just too much to be filled. yes, i dont ride the light rail, i wish i road the metro. because there, you are no body but like everybody.
follow me, down the stairs, down this monument of stone that lies beneath the city. i will lead you to places you haven’t known, to the city under the city just quick, jump on the rails, go into the tunnel and through the door guarded by the old blind man whom you pay with air freshener trees and who’ll open the Security Personel Only door for you.
immersed in the metro. missing suburbia. moved because of hoping for greener pastures. didn’t necessarily get that. loving the skyline though. loving the polluted air.
i am stuck on this infernal metro loop and wondering how far this bullet train will take me before it splits into a billion butterflies intent on proving chaos theory is a hoax and that it’s all about cheese. That’s right, cheese.
As I stepped in, the crowd turned around and stared at me in ezpectation. I opened my mouh as if I was about to say something. Then I thought about it for a second and closedmy mouth again. They looked at me for another second and went back to their business. I was just going to travel this time, but I am so used to reciting poetry that I couldnt help myself marking my entrance.
the metro in Paris was an amazing site for a 17 year old girl. The most astonishing thing to her was the old woman feeding rats down on the track. it was 1979, and she had never been out of tucson arizona, except to visit san diego with her family in the summertime. the young french woman that she was with, sylvie pulled her arm to get her to hurry up and get on the train, she wasn’t sure if she should be excited or frightened. The car was completely full, nowhere to sit, she ended up having to stand next to a greasy middle aged man who wasn’t able to conceal his excitement of being near the 17 year old blond american.
I had hoped to lose him on the metro. It was late afternoon, the end of the work day. Faster than he could grab me, I let the swift crush of bodies carry me away from his searching eyes and into the cramped corner of a subway car. Thank heavens I’m so small; there’s no way I would have fit otherwise. I was able to wedge myself uncomfortably in a sliver of space between two businessmen, back against the far wall. I had no choice but to face the window. When his slitted, furious eyes finally found me through the glass, the subway was already lurching out of the station.
I’m tired. So tired I could fall asleep anywhere….the metro, the house, the….zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Okay, now I’m tired of sleeping. What SHALL I do next?
the metro smelt of piss and blood. He had been there tonight feasting on the hearts of the innocents; innocents who has expelled urine at the sight of such a monstrous beast. I stooped under the tape which sectioned off the body from the masses that began to gather
A Metro is one huge city. A huge city where different people wpould meet. They would intersect in our lives, either in a good way or in a bad way, like how we would do to theirs. who have you met in the metro?
metro city, is that a thing?
im afraid of the metro
i worry that someone will push me in front of it and ill die horribly
if that happens please push whoever pushed me too
but what if that creates a chain?
so nevermind, much too morbid
new yawk new yawk
the subway death I would never want to get pushed in front of that. i dont know where im going, ive always been bad at directions. isnt there a band named after that? i think i used to like them in eigth grade… new york city is great but i dont wanna die.
I waited for the Metro bus to take me to my son School, but I did not realize that I was at the wrong bus top. I caught a taxi and I arrived in time at the school in time to see his performance in the dance completion.
MetroNorth, LIRR, New Jersey Transit, Amtrak, rails and subways taking me away from all of this heartbreak. I’ll leave you here forgotten in the heart of my city.
Wyjechałam na wakacje do Warszawy. Tam udałam się do metra. Miałam problem z kupieniem biletu ale pomogła mi pewna miła pani. Była piękną kobietą, z długimi, falującymi, czarnymi włosami. Wyglądała jak prawdziwa dama. Towarzyszyła mi aż do końca podróży metrem.
Metro could mean a metropolitan city or it could mean a subway system as it does in my city of residence. Metro, the city is generally based on the population and the level of development of the city. My city is a metro and has a metro system too!
bound by the globe I think to much depression
is at the risk of the moonshine wine that appears just
before
I change
my head you can touch the stairs of emotions running as
I would kissed you still 22 and its just time time time
nothing more nothing less
bound in thedisre I admire the wquarless tier
of the moonshine wire a tthe tiameness of time
and the yellowish rain is found outside the pane
of the seashell reflection
chilling your temptations is the only divistion
of your taking the train through a division of pain
when a man say hello
thinking
of the swaure in the millimitere deer
founding the witer of the breakign dawn
where the doctors respect the buldings of the fightin spawn
in the mignidght I hear a word of the break a motortruck is left alone
in the mistake of time
The Metro station was packed. And yet I still had to find a way to weave through the crowd without getting cursed at, stepped on, or tripped over lest I end up late at my first day as an intern at a literary magazine.
Let’s just say, the day did not start well.
The metro area was filled with police cars and federal agents as they hunted for the suspects. Their activities that night had alert authorities who converged on the city from all area. Their hope was that this could be resolved without anymore bloodshed.
she went onto the metro and stayed on the train until it took her anywhere. She didn’t care where she was going. She just wanted to get out of town. She sat and waited until the train reached its final destination and when she departed, she realised… She was nowhere… but this was home.
Metro. The city. The City. Hustle and bustle and craziness and a roar and a silence all at the same time. A good day.
the metro north. us. that cold day in new york. we’d never been to the city; hadn’t even been out of our own state. but we saw it that day, dark and cold and shining and interesting and repulsive all at the same time. just us, riding on that train, each bump in the tracks another step toward growing older. to this day i can’t remember why we came home.
Not many people understand what I say when the word “dark” comes to mind. Most think of demons, the fear of the unknown. No one would understand that I truly mean home. Where I feel more comfortable. The unknown itself. No light save for the passing train. I am not the normalcy you expect. I am the living. I am the dead.
Boop shewhooopdewhoo, this jello pudding is the bees knees kids, you should zibbity bippity bop de woop on over to the store and get some.
light, dark, light, dark. I stare out the window my eyes slowly closing. My breathing sync with the trains movement. The booming voice shouting out the stops jolted be out of my doze but I quickly slumped back as I realized it wasn’t my turn to exit yet.
Though dusk had only broken in for a few minutes, the metro was overcrowded with men and women and children — as if it were already the time to return to their homes after an exhausting day from work, excited to seeing their families once more. Policemen were stationed around every entrance and exit, searching for an unusual suspect amidst the sea of groggy, ill-tempered civilians.
A little boy, swallowed by the crowd, rushed frantically towards the train headed for ___. Just before the doors closed in, with everyone inside packed in like sardines in a bottle, a certain policeman looked at the little boy square in the eye. He gestured a thumbs up to the boy, and smiled sadly. With a stifled sob, the boy turned away from the door.
The train sped away.
In the next minute, the bomb detonated.
It’s a rat race, squashing and piling on to the metro. You’re just a number, a face in the crowd if you’re lucky. Just one of thousands trying to get from A to B, a curse of the modern age.
Whats the thoughts that come upon my mind when i see this word metro. It’s a traveling agent. it takes you from one place to another. Some within minutes, some within days. Time doesn’t matter for this guy. it just does it’s job.
I rode the metro today towards downtown L.A. I haven’t seen the city like this in ages. The tunnels rush past me like I’m descending down into the depths of the Earth. I reach my destination, my companion is a homeless man; dirty, disheveled, and smells of piss.
i want a spontaneous getaway. i want to look outside my window and see the waves of buildings appear before my eyes. i want to see the tunnels cave in, giving a sense of closure to bring me to where my home belongs in suburbia.
the metro is a marvelous place to meet new people. from extravagant to bland to beautiful to strange, it is a place where you could immerse yourself to the culture of your city.
today i took the metro to school. i don’t usually do this, but on the particular day i decided that i was obliged to take the bus. the bus was unusually crowded, partly due to the inclement weather, but that did not stop the many pedestrians walking down the street. i sat away from the general population and as i glanced up, there was a woman who caught my attention. he was small in structure, with an unusual grimace on her face which lighted up the whole bus.
i love the metro. the tunnels are like woosh. i also love looking at the different people who use it. haha metrosexuals. i realy do want to move to the city and live my dreams and hopefully use the metro more often then i do right now
metro PCS, metro station. yes, metro station. the city, the big city. where they dwell and swell until their heart’s content but never getting their fill beucase there it just too much to be filled. yes, i dont ride the light rail, i wish i road the metro. because there, you are no body but like everybody.
follow me, down the stairs, down this monument of stone that lies beneath the city. i will lead you to places you haven’t known, to the city under the city just quick, jump on the rails, go into the tunnel and through the door guarded by the old blind man whom you pay with air freshener trees and who’ll open the Security Personel Only door for you.
People are strange. I sat on the metro, in the only available seat. Bad idea. There was a stick substance on the seat, and I don’t even want to
immersed in the metro. missing suburbia. moved because of hoping for greener pastures. didn’t necessarily get that. loving the skyline though. loving the polluted air.
i am stuck on this infernal metro loop and wondering how far this bullet train will take me before it splits into a billion butterflies intent on proving chaos theory is a hoax and that it’s all about cheese. That’s right, cheese.
As I stepped in, the crowd turned around and stared at me in ezpectation. I opened my mouh as if I was about to say something. Then I thought about it for a second and closedmy mouth again. They looked at me for another second and went back to their business. I was just going to travel this time, but I am so used to reciting poetry that I couldnt help myself marking my entrance.
through beneath everywhere
lost in yawns and tangled hair
swaying in some lonely air
just knowing something might be there
systems ridden underneath you
colours light up in your hue
they dance laugh love and woo
like the first time I once met you
metro metro metro metro metro metro metro metro
There are so many stains, the eye does not know where to settle except in space—past people.
the metro in Paris was an amazing site for a 17 year old girl. The most astonishing thing to her was the old woman feeding rats down on the track. it was 1979, and she had never been out of tucson arizona, except to visit san diego with her family in the summertime. the young french woman that she was with, sylvie pulled her arm to get her to hurry up and get on the train, she wasn’t sure if she should be excited or frightened. The car was completely full, nowhere to sit, she ended up having to stand next to a greasy middle aged man who wasn’t able to conceal his excitement of being near the 17 year old blond american.
I had hoped to lose him on the metro. It was late afternoon, the end of the work day. Faster than he could grab me, I let the swift crush of bodies carry me away from his searching eyes and into the cramped corner of a subway car. Thank heavens I’m so small; there’s no way I would have fit otherwise. I was able to wedge myself uncomfortably in a sliver of space between two businessmen, back against the far wall. I had no choice but to face the window. When his slitted, furious eyes finally found me through the glass, the subway was already lurching out of the station.
She ran down the wet cobblestone ally hurrying so she could catch the metro that night. She had to go to the opera. She had to see him again.
I’m tired. So tired I could fall asleep anywhere….the metro, the house, the….zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Okay, now I’m tired of sleeping. What SHALL I do next?