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Anya Apr 2019
Rap music, discernible except for when the rumble and bumps of the jumping wheels takes over
But still subordinate compared to the twitters, chattering away
The scent of chicken wafts over from the seat across the isle (mind you I’m a vegetarian)
The seat head vibrating my head, thumping the same spot
From rap to pop, voice like a silky cord, winding, winding, grating
Piano back to rap
Head bends and peers, teases, smiles, the turtle returns back into the shell
Phones, phones, busy busy bees those thumbs
Back squished, precarious water bottle about to-HORN
Blasts, the wheels jump, and I’m gone with the sway
My **** falls, my body shakes, the chatters, the charters, the laughs, the shrieks
I’m swept up, I’m swept up
And washed away
...
We’re here
Silverflame Apr 2019
The city's drowsiness
seeps into the bus,
leaving behind misty
eyes and empty promises
of a better tomorrow.
For a while, everything
seems perfect.
But I know I'm playing
a dangerous game
with this self-fabricated
pipedream.
It will eventually
burst and leave me
halfway there, enveloped
in a nirvana of despair.
Despite knowing this,
I still dive in; head first.
Bus Poet Stop Apr 2019
spring planting, spring harvesting, spring garlic

One of the great joys of having a job in agriculture
is to think days, weeks, even months ahead,
One of the great joys of having a job in poetry,
like a fireman,  a patient planter of love,
you wait to be called,
then becoming by being,
part of an all consuming burning

come spring, take advantage of the cool, wet weather of spring
to put in multiple crops of peas and lettuce, also a great time
to get your perennial vegetables,
like asparagus and rhubarb, started

the planting cycle is not an either/or,
come harvest thy labored fruits,
nine crops to harvest come March,
kale, pick leaves as needed,
leeks, best left in the ground
and harvested as needed,
parsnips, purple sprouting broccoli,
rhubarb, spring cabbage, spring cauliflower,
and of course, my personal fav,
Spring Garlic

Garlic, like like love, is generally planted in the fall,
before the frost and harvested the following late summer.
But from March to May,
once the ground has truly thawed,
the young lover plants, spring garlic or green garlic,
can be harvested.

it’s a long bus ride to Western Canada
where the garlic spring has come,
ain’t complaining lots of time to write foolishness
and plant a few good bus poems in northern ontario
and even michigan,
the window slides, and the seeds scattered,
but at every bus poet stop,
those that need it,
planted many inches deep


April 2 naught how I wish I was nineteen again
Bus Poet Stop Apr 2015
eye sometimes go to bed wearing an old hoody. It has a metal zipper  to close the front and the zipper is always cold, unpleasantly so, on my bare skin.  After awhile though, my body temperature warms the metal just enough, that it is no longer a cause of discomfort though the metal still remains inherently cool to the touch

While science can easily explain this I guess, I felt this to be a major miracle.  That flesh pliable and heart-heated to 98 degrees could conquer the molecules of metal that were made in China struck me as extra ordinary (always two words, please!) and nothing short of a personal intervention by a personal deity

When I put the hoodie on at first I would think
******* (that's cold)
When I awoke, cosy and warm, I would think
******* (that's so cool)

having studied philosophy in Cleveland,
I knew that the logic of the situation,
what I had experienced was not an
interregnum, but the invisible intervening handiwork of god, who, also knocked my glasses from the nightable to the floor,
just cause she/ he was in a bad mood, on account of having to come such a long way, just,
to reheat me
one more time.
In terre gnum - freedom from the terror of chewing gum discard actions and a phobia of gnus
Alex Zhang Mar 2019
Television static
Falls on my umbrella
Glass tears popping
At my feet
As I wait for a bus
To somewhere without rain
Arisa Mar 2019
I missed the bus seconds after the last passenger boarded.

Now I sit here alone,
Waiting for another vessel
To drag me to my destination.

The air is cold,
And my heart is still thumping away
Due to physical exertion to reach the thing I missed -
But like everything else,
My hopes,
My dreams,
They're too far to reach.

I don't know how to end this
But mention the tiny speckle of headlights
And the roar of the large vehicle in the distance.
So now I think:
'There's always another bus.'
One of my meh poems.
Hugoose Feb 2019
Glowing Windows embedded into mouldy brick walls
Ivy climbing the gutters of neighbourhood roofs
Skies becoming burnt out like charred blackened fields

Tall spiny trees project shadows onto the road below
Leaves curl up to receive some weakening light from above
A formation of sputtering cars cling to each turn they decide to make
Cloudy milky light bounces off faulty windows that exhale the aroma of somebodies impending supper

A heavy truck manoeuvres itself into the blistered bitumen horizon
Dry deflated branches make obscene gestures towards passers-by
Gardeners rummage through their bags as they near the end of their working day
Their faces filled with an expired enthusiasm for breathing

Parked hunks of metal pelted with dead itchy leaves
Windscreen wipers hold fragile twigs down against grotty neglected glass
Chain-link fences link disparate housing and the sleeping people within
Some dispirited unsatisfied psychos gaze up as they catch a moving bus

Smoky Incense billows down from some apartment balcony
The air becomes cold and sharply fills these ordinary streets
Engine sounds try to supress the divine quietness
They only merge into it

Now the stars are out and about
Bright specks waddling in an aerial pool of dark blue
You turn the key and walk through the front door
Hopefully you enjoy this, I'm kinda strange about sharing what I write and I get rather shy but yeah enjoy, I'll stop talking now
Shiv Pratap Pal Feb 2019
Ticket, Ticket Everywhere
Money, Money Everywhere
Everything is Reserved
For the Money makers and Rich

Want to ride in a Bus, Car or Taxi
Or Travel in Ship, Train or Aeroplane
Use your brain, my dear
Please shell out some money

Oh Sorry, You dropped that ugly idea
Then what you are going to go?
Going to Circus or to watch a film
Want to go to a Book fair or a fete

Still have to Shell out some Money
It's not that funny, O' Honey
It's Business, Serious Business
Oh No, You can't even go to Public Park

Or the River bank either
Oh want to use Public Toilets
Do you think it's free?
No my dear, just Pay and Use

You need some Food, Nice Cold drink
Or want to sip just a glass of plain water
Pay Some Money, Money and Money
Money is the religion and the faith

Need a Pen to write your pain
Again I have to ask for Money
We Money monger are the rules
You Un-employed are the problem

Either pay or perish, that’s a simple rule
That’s a golden Rule, Follow it
Don't try to break it. If you do
I bet, you will fail and fall in jail
Money is Everything. Long Live Capitalism
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