Her heaving breast artfully spoke of sex.
He saw grayness in moral right and wrong.
Not that hard to see, but I understand if some people get confused.
Poetry / At The Back of the Bus (Come Take a Seat With Us)
“At The Back of the Bus”
The bitter scent of sweat, pungent in the night wind
Pitter pattering wheels on track, lunging through dark ways might hint
At the cargo loads of frozen flesh inside who defrost from their dusk-ended
Day.
The bus coasts past street signs and frozen glimpses of men
C-clunk, c-clunk
Holding them in second long captures of life and sorrow
That you know so well and feel a despising swell for.
A rising hell forms around your body as you pray for sleep,
Ignorance, death, or some way up out of this rumbling angry vehicle;
Life.
There in the back, legs pressed together, cheap perfume weather
With a chance of lazy storm fronts, up front sit a child and his mother.
Gaze upon them knowingly, eyes dripping degradation with a hint of envy
Always walking forward with neck twisted one hundred eighty degrees for solicitude
Contemplating the loss of life and time while numbing present calendar whines
To silence with your nostalgic empty air-bitten life.
Thump, thump, head against the glass, darkness woke
Lumped against a young woman leaving class, heaving breast of sex artfully spoke.
Avert your eyes and feel an awareness of careless passion and doomed fancies frozen midair
Of loves she’ll find, men with minds and sharp ivory-tooth combs to hold her hair
And the years of fraught love-sought games ending inevitably in old age, a smoldering bare visage
Of experience not wished for and the young woman you see now armored in the cynicism you already
Hold.
At the back, prefer viewing open moments of life rather than be viewed
Stay the viewer, comfortable with a hint of paranoia,
May the lure of the eternal voyeur soul of man hide your fear and any pain of existence; Hence the only thing to fear is being viewed yourself.
Staring at others smothered with this ever present clog of smells and air
Forcing itself through your nostrils, wondering at the shared traits you see
In the viewed;
Hoping the television screen remains hard and unflinching,
Stay static, until no one sees you.
The darkness is closing, cloaking interminably the illusions of life outside
Remind yourself with strife touched eyes that the averse lack of light is just that
Not some perverse hustle of killers with matted hair and chain fussed bats,
Just an opposite, see day in night, see gray in right, see light in death;
See your effort and vigor and raise you a few milligrams of turquoise pills
To subvert those shills who raised you in a filching fawning childhood
Of no hurt past bills to be paid.
There at the back of the bus, an observing ghost, that swerving vehicle
Winding between dark buildings and unnerving hope with each c-clunk c-clunk
Of its wheels and spokes.
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Silveressence reviewed Version 1 -
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Travis_Tee reviewed Version 1 -
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Are we from the same place, same streets, same folks?? Were we on the same team? That one that is perpetually losing. Man, I feel like I know you and I’ve never seen you, although I probably have, just as you have seen me a hundred times before. And I’m sure I’ll see you again, next time I’m on the bus, you wear the same mask as I.
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mizzpris reviewed Version 1 -
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This was an interesting poem and I didn’t really car for it all that much. I felt like it was hard to follow, had no form, and was too wordy. I didn’t understand some of the line like, “heaving breast of sex artfully spoke” and ” see gray in right.” It was overall very confusing… even for poetry!
JDAriza reviewed Version 1 -
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THIS is the type of poetry that I aspire to write! I absolutely loved it (though I’m sure you get that all the time). This line right here it my favorite:
A rising hell forms around your body as you pray for sleep
I love the contrast between hell and pray.
I love the rhyming. The fact that it rhymes without necessarily being at the end of the line. The flow is great. It’s awesome how you transition into the next thought or concept without their being a break; it’s very smooth.
As far as your other works…I would like to read some more. If you think this is not as good as your others, I can only imagine how good of a writer you are.
halebop reviewed Version 1 -
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Honestly,past the great imagery there needs work on theme.Subject is lost in the vagueries.Structure needs a lot of work.I would say pinpoint and step out your wants on conveyance.
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