deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Blue Bus
A meeting place of vapors,
Beams stream like willows which weep;
Frost accosts
The
Window’s
Surface,
As consciousness
Surfaces
In
The
Senses, sensed -
Condensed
In
Monuments
Of
Moments,
Written in rising horizons,
Followed
From
Dust to dusk
In
A frame
Of
Pleasure and pain
That
Remains
In
Songs
Of
The end of things:
End
Of
Things.
Published 5th Dec 2021
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likes 4
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The author encourages honest critique.
5th Dec 2021 12:24pm
Dear CO,
I admit to a mixed bag of emotions with this poem. Kind of saw an encapsulated life journey, seasonal events and finally end of life. Your closing stanza and it’s spacing were so effective in punctuating a recent experience for me I had to keep it together from bursting into sobs. Incredible piece! H🌷
I admit to a mixed bag of emotions with this poem. Kind of saw an encapsulated life journey, seasonal events and finally end of life. Your closing stanza and it’s spacing were so effective in punctuating a recent experience for me I had to keep it together from bursting into sobs. Incredible piece! H🌷
Anonymous
- Edited 6th Dec 2022 00:45am
5th Dec 2021 2:49pm
<< post removed >>
5th Dec 2021 4:13pm
My first thought was the big blue penitentiary bus, the motherfucking bluebird special! I am familiar ☺️
Ok ok, ahem,,, all jokes aside,
Deep thoughts here not sure where it’s coming from .
Loves you lots n lots Cipher xoxoxo
Jackie ♥️
Ok ok, ahem,,, all jokes aside,
Deep thoughts here not sure where it’s coming from .
Loves you lots n lots Cipher xoxoxo
Jackie ♥️
