Those absinthe eyes hide someone who's died many times...
at least that's what the other scanners convey as I walk down the path.
I'm like a bar code.
I wonder whether trolleys have feelings?
Is that even important?
Probably not.
Flashes of judgment blind my line of sight,
this must be what the celebrities feel like.
All I want is for my bag straps to fit my shoulders correctly,
why the fuck did I buy the smaller one.
Well here comes the bus...
looks like another fun day of
"Cracking skulls in Rugby in Science,
Cracking skulls in Rugby in P.E.,
Cracking skulls in Rugby in Maths,
Cracking skulls in Rugby in History,
Cracking skulls in Rugby in English,
and finally,
Fixing the skulls in Religion"
iPod shuffle has changed to a happier song.
Look at the trees outside. Swaying in the breeze.
The only tranquil aspects of this bus station.
They provide solace to birds and termites alike.
That's a juxtaposition if ever there was one.
I wonder why termites would want to harm a tree?
Like what the fuck is their problem?!
That old woman looks like she could use some help.
I wonder whether she expects other people to help her?
I wonder whether other people feel obligated to help her...
The bus starts. Violently vibrating, the engine is resurrected.
The bus operator takes a 7:32am breath, and looks in the mirror.
I wonder what he sees? Does he see an accomplished escorter of school children,
or a failed doctor...
Rain drops gather on the windows like beads of sweat.
Another bus runs past.
Red lights stop the bus from continuing its odyssey.
I wonder whether that person in the car next to our bus knows I'm thinking about them.
The bus driver exhales an 8:03am sigh as each set of earphones stumbles past,
mumbling "thank you" as they go.
The birds sing as the boys moan.
A symphony of bag-slammings and shoe-draggings enrich the corridors.
This is where the lambs become sheep,
and depending on their choices either wind up evolving into a shepherd,
or in the slaughter house.
The hours that follow can be likened to that of ball of yarn -
reaching the end is one hell of an effort.
Back on the bus, looking at the world drive past.
Everything looks different in the morning.
I could have sworn that tree had one more leaf.
The station hits you in the face like a tennis ball.
Smoke billows out of every orifice.
Sad souls wear happy faces.
There's an old man playing clarinet and children laughing at him.
And then you see it.
Well...more of a "her", if she can be called that.
The enigma.
Dark thoughts flood into your mind. Dark marks stain you.
How could you be so stupid!
I can't bear to look at you...so stop smiling at me.
I don't care, just let me sleep!
Green grass is beneath me and the bus is speeding off into the distance.
The annual pilgrimage home is commencing.
I slide my key into the lock.
It wont turn. Why does this always happen.
After much profanity and turning you manage to coax the door into opening.
Bag falls.
Shoes thrown.
Belt dropped.
Tie hung.
Button undone.
What a day...
Author notes
MysteriousStrangerX
A contest entry
- with the abstract in mind.. by The-Phoenix.
900 points, ended January 10, 25 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Honourable Mentions Only! by amaranthine lover.
775 points, ended January 22, 63 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think?
Comments
1 - 14 of 14
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I really enjoyed reading this . it sounds like you've been on the bus with me a few times.either that or you're a mind reader. i tend to ramble along with my imagination wondering this and wondering that just as this poem does.i think this is a very good piece of work.
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wow, this is so good!! it holds such graphic detail its great, how did i miss this one? lol x
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I really liked it. It was strong in all of the right places.
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amazing
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This has to be one of the best and most creative things i have ever read, (and I read a lot) seriously its a masterpiece, each time i find a bit i think is my favourite, i find another, and then another.
A definate favourite bit is
as each set of ear phones stumbles past
murmering thankyou, as they go
epic, i can see it all in my head
another is
an accomplished escorter of schhol children
or a failed doctor
This is such a clever line, giving a whole new dimension to your work,
Actually im lost for words, this is really excellent stuff, i salute you, bravo
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An introspective write, you did a pretty good job, but I enjoyed the one before this a little more.
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I like how this is about your day
It shows what you do every day and helps your reader connect to you and your poetry
It is a good poem.
A little on the long side but not too long!
The ending is good.
Thanks for writing this
It was a pleasure too read! -
I love the overall questioning of everything and yet hinting of complete understanding of everything at the same time (as gathered from your first couple lines). A very deceptive poem that shows one mans quest of enlightenment, even if it never seems to come. Indeed there are many questions left unanswered, but atleast you haven't resorted to being the one screaming at these people wishing to know the truth of what exactly is ticking behind their nonexistent existence. It shows a level of sanity only present in the socially insane, which should give you a lovely reception here.
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well the title hooked me in to reading this piece, and im very glad i did
i love the randomness and realism in this. it feels like your letting the reader into the mysterious workings of your mind, and quietly questioning whether other people think the same things. and yea, they do.
i could relate to a lot of this and i really enjoyed reading. great unique write. its nice to read that other people's minds are weird too
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haha oh yes,
we're all mad here
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i personally rather liked it, and the cussing didn't bother me. it was full of interesting randomness, and quite like the way my own head works, or one of my diary entries. i like the way that at some times it's very literate, and at others 2 word sentance fragments, showing when tired. nice write!
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cheers
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Hmmm... the double dropping of the "F"-Bomb didn't do anything for me... the rest is sort of like a self-centered diary entry... "I wonder this..." and "I wonder that..." and "I could have sworn..." and "I don't care" and "I slide my key..." and I, I, I.
"Frankly, Scarlett, I don't give a damn."
Well, that's not quite true. There was some interesting imagery.
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hey thanks for your comment i appreciate it
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