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Open Poetry #24
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At the Bus Stop
| Open Poetry #24 |
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At the Bus Stop |
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Professor Gloom Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082of Depression |
Swirl down flakes of white Dance between buildings that stand Abandoned to night, Pretty to dirty they land Midst the rushing car head lights. My smoke cloud billows Up to greet the dancing white Falling in shadow Falling in beauty of light Only a few see, Dancer watches the dancing, Others too hazy Not bothering the glancing At the light twirling beauty. The bus then arrives To convey us from downtown The deep night survives There’s no snow left on the ground Only child thoughts it revived. Gloom This is the poetic part of the story, but it’s probably to vague for understanding so I wrote a prose bit also, and include it here. Waiting for the bus on a gray January night, smoking a fairly cheep five dollar cigar and pondering the fact that five dollars once was the price of a Good cigar. A light snow begins to fall drifting slowly down between the tall building to change from white to black as they touch the dirty street, but as the fluffy flakes are drifting they are lovely. He sends a puff of pungent smoke to greet them on their descent watching as he leans on his cane wrapped in the warmth of his long black leather jacket. Just a few others wait for the bus, but they stand back against the wall of the old store that once served coffee and pastries to the business people arriving to work. Now the window is a plywood barriers and the clientele are spiders, rats and drug addicts that had hoped to escape. There is no escape, except the bus to another place and a rearrangement of basic thoughts. Drug addicts are just hard liner drunks and winos who spend their lives trying not to think just barely being. A stripper from one of the less sleazy clubs walks up to the bus stop with her big bag of skimpy outfits and scrubbed clean of makeup. She stares off into space and watches the snowflakes. A blank expression comes over her and perhaps she is thinking of a time of her youth when snow meant fun and play. The bus arrives and the small group slowly files in paying with small bits of cash or bus passes. He climbs in last being somewhat slower than the rest and easily finds a seat on the nearly empty bus. The snow has stopped as the bus begins moving once more through the dirty potholed streets. Gloom |
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| © Copyright 2003 Aszard Drazlom - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
Gloom, I like both entries but quote what I like the best, "There’s no snow left on the ground Only child thoughts it revived." |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
Good morning, Professor! You have an incredible talent for putting your readers right there at the scene of action! I see and feel as though I am actually there. You most definitely are an observer of life and nature--and I especially enjoy your poems--and prose--such as these fine pieces of writing. Warm angel hugs, EA |
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regards2you Member Elite
since 2002-10-01
Posts 3940California |
Professor, I especially liked this poem. It causes me wonder, how you can take a sentence, eliminate all but the most vital words and come up with a perfect picture...I'd have to quote most of the poem to show what I mean. Though I know, you know, as anyone who reads you, understands. Though true, I sometimes have to scratch my head, trying to figure some out...this one leaves nothing to the imagination. I like it very much. Thank you for sharing your talent with us. Pat  ..without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
No, Professor, the poem was not vague in the least...just the vacant feeling left behind...you make people feel with your words...and that, Sir, is a good thing. |
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Professor Gloom Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082of Depression |
Thank you, Seymour, Pleased you enjoyed, Always nice to see your comments Thank you, Earth Angel, Glad you liked, I was there and just recorded what I saw. You highly praise me with such kind words. Thank you, regards2you, I am a minimalist in my writing And have had many years of practice to work on it. Glad you liked my humble effort Just trying to get it write still. Thank you, Sunshine, I beg to differ on the vagueness of it, Without the prose how would you have known about the cigar, It could have been my pipe, which lends an entirely different feel to the poem. Cigars set you apart from the crowd. Nothing like a stogie to give you a little space in a crowd. Gloom |
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passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
very good! I am impressed by this! |
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