Juggling Trains

Hey Alex! I saw this poem in the Green Room, and wanted to give it a review.

Alright, I am still far from great when it comes to poetry, reviewing or writing it, so I won’t blame you for taking this review with skepticism. Hopefully, we can both use this as a means to improve, right? Haha.

Anyway, as far as I can see, this is great. I really love the theme of trains, and how they seem to symbolize this exploration of some old memories here. It feels like some complicated emotions are being explored through this lens of nostalgia, and I think that’s really cool. Then with that subtle turn at the end, “When dreams and love compete, It's my heart that ends up torn”, I get the sense that this is going beyond just leaving home, and tapping into that feeling of choosing between home and something else, to pursue something bigger or greater. It’s something easy enough to understand on the surface level, but it’s definitely something that hit me hard as I read it, and I think a lot of young people struggle with these feelings when they’re still fresh out of school and dropped into the world of adulthood. I hope you don’t read that as me saying, “this doesn’t feel original” or anything: I actually really like when poetry is able to dig into those more broad-reaching feelings and experiences. I think it’s really cool.

Anyway, it’s a great poem. Solid theme, good structure and delivery. Nice job, bro.

Reading it felt like stepping into someone’s mind mid-spiral, but in this strangely beautiful way where the imagery carries you along even while the emotions pull down.

The trains metaphor hooked me immediately. It’s not just “thinking about the past,” it’s chaotic, busy, noisy, like memories clashing instead of lining up neatly. That’s such a cool and honestly refreshing way to portray nostalgia.

And then when you hit the “back home apparently” section, I actually paused. That feeling of being somewhere familiar but not feeling like it belongs to you anymore? You nailed that. The split bricks image was so vivid I could picture it without even trying.

I also love how quietly intense the poem is. You don’t scream the emotion, but it’s huge. There’s so much pain just under the surface. Lines like “my closing throat smothers me” and “the cyclone I bury” are so specific that it hits harder than if you were dramatic about it.

You describe beauty, the landscapes, the sights, but you’re still haunted by the pull of everything else. That feels so honest. It’s not sadness with a pretty bow, it’s sadness in motion. I also appreciate that the landscapes doesn't fix anything. So many poems treat nature as healing or saving, but you’re honest in acknowledging that beauty doesn’t always cure a deeper grief. It feels real, not romanticized.

And that ending… I felt that.
It’s not neat or resolved, it just sits there aching.

Honestly, this reads like someone unraveling in both directions, past and future, and trying to hold still long enough to survive the moment in between.

It’s heavy, and gorgeous, and painfully recognizable.

I’m kind of in awe of it.