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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 09-June 17:36:28 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 164753
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => the last bus
[time] => 2011-02-13 17:18:38
[hometext] => couldn't afford a taxi
[bodytext] => Raindrops they are rolling down the window glass together never deviating on their path to ground whatever coming tantalisingly close but they are never merging other drops disappear fast as they are converging This is Friday and this bus it is the last, oh brother! full of drunks & punks and a sprinkle of timid others the drunks and punks they don't even try to get along the timids they witness too much, but they're faces just don't let on the driver motors crazily as fast as he is able inebriated heads rock,hands clasp tight in keeping stable I look out at the window, merged outside and night reflections glad i'm too drunk to suffer an engine seat erection traffic lights, they shine as if on command from red to green street lights they float in rhythm as illusion shakes upon the scene I study other passengers , both real and through the glass they're voices loud and proud, as repeated nonsense they do gas The bus brakes hard in order to make a late notified stop a punk bounds down the aisle , he's now firmly in the dock I've taken sides much earlier when I first stepped on my inhibitions (like my night out) are now just as good as gone. Spilt sprite, or something other, runs in rival streams down the aisle At least I hope it's sprite, for some other reason I smile I think of you at home there hoping that you're waiting for me either awake in bed, or sat not really watching T.V. My stop is coming next but there is no need for a fuss I'm confident I'm not the only one getting off the bus bus stopping sign lights, bell rings, the engine shrilly revs hard I face my own reflection merged with a passing house yard the drips I studied earlier, they are now in trouble gravity sways them wildly whilst the size of others double I think they should be proud of how long they may have lasted. Oh no, a huge descender now they're memory is blasted I reach and bound down the aisle my hands are whacking columns my wedding ring it rings out as my hand is whacked upon them the doors spring open quickly as the bus is still a stopping heaven knows, I'm careless, stand on carton starts it popping I'm off the bus now walking and my mind it starts a thinking it tends to do this periodically when I'm drinking the two of us are solid, I truly believe in both of us did they ever see it coming? Those two raindrops on the bus? [comments] => 2 [counter] => 115 [topic] => 48 [informant] => poeticjestix [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
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