The Wonder Bus

Like a fork dragged across a china plate
her voice cuts through 
creating a wavelike wince along the aisle
my neck turtles in and I ignore her loudly
turning to stare out the window as if a new territory was unfolding
instead of the same street 
same route 
as the day before and before
I wear my isolation like a large black jewel
a thing of sparkle without light
and wonder if I am the only one so uncomfortable… 
and wonder why I am?
and wonder why she isn’t?
I guess bus rides make me ponder odd things
with blank space to fill strange thoughts rise up
 like discarded rattles thrown on a floor for attention.`
and I wonder if I am the only one who has these questions?
and wonder why I do?
and wonder why you don’t?
 
©jayetomas2014

 

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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2 Responses to The Wonder Bus

  1. beingeternal says:

    Random thoughts are honestly and nicely put. Even I too wonder if I am the only one who has these questions……………

  2. Once you start to ponder you get lost in a labyrinth. Sitting on the bus used to be a terrible place to ponder. There’s so much to get on your nerves on a bus. I love the rattle thrown down to get attention. I have 22 year old who still does that.

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