The City Bus

by Maple Tree   Apr 14, 2015

I've become a watcher
of humans, a stalker
on the bus; bringing auras
alive within poetry.

Growing older,
tired of writing the
same old things
that lay dormant within
my tattered nightmares.

These spirits, people,
they have stories
I will never know
and yet I write about
the tears they have shed
because I feel sorrow-

on the corner crossing
of Court street and Genesse.

The man behind the glasses,
wishing for a puff of smoke,
I see the yellowing
formed upon the tips
of a cigarette holder,
his fingers bare more tales
than stains from tobacco.

Writing about them won't
make my tears go away,
it allows me to realize that I am
not alone in this city...


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Latest Comments

  • 4 years ago


    A city stalker, huh?! Your poem ozzed excitement and imagery. Loved it!

  • 5 years ago

    by Sagedream


  • 5 years ago

    by Brenda

    Awesome! I totally get the people watching, you see so much of someone when they don't realize they are being watched. I love the stalker and being able to feed off their auras-so deep.

  • 6 years ago

    by mossgirl19

    Yes, a commuter's tale! Brave and lovely.5/5

  • 6 years ago

    by GB

    Weekly contest April 27th
    Judging comment:

    Smashing piece, no doubt. Somehow we are connected invisibly in this world, lonely but not alone. These thoughts are interpreted brilliantly in this writing.
    The truthful insight portrayed in attractive layout, great imagery and use of language, the poem is very vivid.
    A professional use of contradiction also must be noted,
    ~bringing auras alive within poetry/ lay dormant within
    my tattered nightmares...
    and lastly she knew very well to end this human experiment realistically.
    Excellent, a joy to read.

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