I Traveled Once by a Spare-bus!
I traveled once by a spare-bus;
It was from my grand-mother’s house;
I was in hurry and therefore,
I boarded the bus, my college to go.
The seats looked ripped and so much torn;
The old-bus’ body’s bad weld shown;
The iron frame-work shocked to touch;
The window’s glass looked cracked so much;
Without good lights, the bus was dark;
Across the road came dogs to bark;
The diesel-engine’s cranky noise,
Drowned the passengers’ loudest voice.
The cassette played a hoarse, dull song;
All had to listen to the gong;
The conductor, a man quite stout,
‘Tickets, tickets, ’ he began to shout.
While the bus sped up curved roads,
The golden moon too sailed thro’ clouds;
And when it rained, the water came,
Thro’ windows, roof- Oh, what a shame!
Despite all shutters downed (half-torn) ,
The bus was almost flooded soon;
The driver drove the bus so fast,
And soon, we were amidst the ghats.
My body was in severe pain,
For hours, it was a torrential rain;
The driver honked: a dog had crossed!
The bus came to a halt and paused.
The bus was stopped by an old cop;
And very late, I reached my stop;
‘Oh, What a journey! ’ I then thought,
My travel by a spare-bus brought!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-25-2006
poem by John Celes

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Sonnet: The Bus, I Prefer to Take!
I like to take the bus tho’ old and spare
To reach for practice, my clinic by eve;
It moves like neither snail nor speeds like hare!
Yet, carefully, it goes tho’ people heave.
The driver in his sixties looks quite wise;
The passengers don’t crowd; each gets a seat;
The bus looks welded much and not so nice,
With jerky windows, silence, floor not neat!
Not many board the bus at every stop;
The journey takes a longer time indeed;
No robbers come to steal and there’s no cop;
The bus is safe but cannot others lead!
Altho’ this bus is not the one most sought,
The risk of accidents is almost naught!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-1-2005
poem by John Celes

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A Girl From Nowhere
The electric blue of a lightning sky
lit up the country lane momentarily.
She walked alone
with her scarf blowing in the wind
and her clothes soaked from the light rain.
But who was she and where was she?
She did not know.
Her eyes scanned everything
looking for something she recognised.
There was nothing there and she kept walking.
A crack of thunder startled her.
She jumped and looked around.
Lights of a car lit up the hedgerows
as it raced towards her.
She moved to one side
to allow it to pass.
The driver braked abruptly
along side of her.
The passenger window
wound itself down.
The driver smiled
out from the interior of the car.
“Are you all right miss? ”
The voice was low and warm.
She felt immediately
that she could trust it.
She looked in with large innocent eyes.
“Can you help me?
I cannot remember who I am or where I am.
The passenger door swung open.
“I think you had better get in.”
Cautiously she moved towards the car.
She climbed onto the passenger seat
and closed the door.
She glanced across
at her Good Samaritan.
“Thank you.” She whispered
as the car purred and moved forwards.
“There is a Police Station
about five miles ahead.
I will take you there;
they should be able to help you.”
She looked at him
as the car raced through
the quickly darkening lane.
“Haven’t you got a handbag? ”
He asked glancing across at her.
“Handbag? What is that? ”
“Where you keep your personal possessions in.”
She looked at him with a questioning look;
it was as if he was talking a strange language.
“My name is Jim Middleton.”
He said in his low warm voice.
She looked at him again
as the hedge rows disappeared
and streetlights and buildings
began to appear.
Scattered at first,
then more and more
as they moved into the town.
He stopped outside the Police Station.
He smiled. “We are here.”
Switching off the engine, he opened the door
and walked around the car.
He opened the door
to escort her into the station.
He stood mouth opened.
She was not there.
poem by David Harris

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Bus Travel At Night
it is the loneliest journey
bus travel at night
the driver does not talk
to the conductor
the silence is the silence of the sleep of all the passengers
i follow the road
the signs are intact
there are only lights on the sides of the streets
the trees are black
the leaves are merely shadows
the world passes me by
in complete silence the scenes changes
and all so sudden
the world moves with me
the bus is a bullet
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Misty Water Woman
I was driving round, as the sun went down
When I came upon a lake, the sign said misty water
And standing there, with wet and tangled hair was a girl
She said her name was bo, she was a farmers daughter
I said get in, Ill take you home, you must be cold
Misty water woman
You never get to her
Misty water woman
You never get to touch her
And feel her near
It began to storm, and our talk grew warm
Till I stopped the car outside a cold and lonely place
I said were here
But she had disappeared
And on the seat was a pool of tears
And a handkerchief of lace
I did not see her leave
I was amazed
Misty water woman
You never get to her
Misty water woman
You never get to touch her
And feel her warm
I sped into the house,
It took her father and her mother to straighten me out
What was it all about
Please let me know
She looked sad, and he looked mad
And he said, yes youre right, once we had a daughter
Her name was bo, but that was long ago
Years have gone since she drowned at misty water
And the way he took it, took me by surprise
Misty water woman
You never get to her
Misty apparition
You never get to touch her
And feel her near
song performed by by Rick Springfield

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Comin' Through the Rye
O, Jenny's a' weet, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry:
She draigl't a' her petticoatie,
Comin thro' the rye!
Chorus:
Comin thro' the rye, poor body,
Comin thro' the rye,
She draigl't a' her petticoatie,
Comin thro' the rye!
Gin a body meet a body
Comin thro' the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need a body cry?
(chorus)
Gin a body meet a body
Comin thro' the glen,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need the warl' ken?
(chorus)
Gin a body meet a body
Comin thro' the grain;
Gin a body kiss a body,
The thing's a body's ain.
(chorus)
Ev'ry Lassie has her laddie,
Nane, they say, have I,
Yet all the lads they smile on me,
When comin' thro' the rye.
poem by Robert Burns

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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How Do We Collect The Evaporating Dew On Grass?
It's a sad demise
Mr.Bandula.Somaweera
A Travel Specialist
(e-destinations, Inc,.)
Who arranged our Air tickets
in a considerable rate
When we moved from Los Angeles to Boston.
Our friend who bade Goodbye yesterday!
O this sad journey of Life,
Companions! One by one moves away
and the Master above who books our tickets
without a prior notice?
If Nirvana is the last stop
Hope you reached there safely brother!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Mr. Cab Driver
Mr Cab Driver won't you stop to let me in
Mr Cab Driver don't like my kind of skin
Mr Cab Driver you're never gonna win
Mr Cab Driver won't you stop to pick me up
Mr Cab Driver I might need some help
Mr Cab Driver only thinks about himself
Here we go
Mr Cab Driver
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from Let Love Rule

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Driver 8
The walls are built up, stone by stone,
The fields divided one by one.
And the train conductor says
take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
Weve been on this shift too long
And the train conductor says
take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away
I saw a treehouse on the outskirts of the farm.
The power lines have floaters so the airplanes wont get snagged.
Bells are ringing through the town again,
Children look up, all they hear is sky-blue, bells ringing
And the train conductor says
take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away
Way to shield the hated heat.
Way to put myself to sleep.
Way to shield the hated heat.
Way to put myself, my children to sleep.
He piloted this song in a plane like that one.
She is selling faith on the go tell crusade.
Locomotive 8, southern crescent, hear the bells ring again.
Field of wheat is looking thin
And the train conductor says
take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
Weve been on this shift too long.
And the train conductor says
take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away
song performed by by REM

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Driver 8
(r.e.m)
The walls are built up, stone by stone;
The fields divided one by one.
And the train conductor says,
Take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
Weve been on this shift too long
And the train conductor says,
Take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away
I saw a treehouse on the outskirts of the farm.
The power lines have floaters so the airplanes wont get snagged.
Bells are ringing through the town again,
Children look up, all they hear is sky-blue, bells ringing
And the train conductor says
Take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away
Way to shield the hated heat.
Way to put myself to sleep.
Way to shield the hated heat.
Way to put myself, my children to sleep.
He piloted this song in a plane like that one.
She is selling faith on the go tell crusade.
Locomotive 8, southern crescent, hear the bells ring again.
Field to weed is lookin thin
And the train conductor says
Take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break
Weve been on this shift too long.
And the train conductor says,
Take a break driver 8, driver 8 take a break.
We can reach our destination, but were still a ways away
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Comin Thro' The Rye
O, Jenny's a' weet, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry:
She draigl't a' her petticoatie,
Comin thro' the rye!
Comin thro' the rye, poor body,
Comin thro' the rye,
She draigl't a' her petticoatie,
Comin thro' the rye!
Gin a body meet a body
Comin thro' the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need a body cry?
Gin a body meet a body
Comin thro' the glen,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need the warl' ken?
Gin a body meet a body
Comin thro' the grain;
Gin a body kiss a body,
The thing's a body's ain.
poem by Robert Burns

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Little Aggie
When Joe Dove took his elephants out on the road
He made each one hold fast with his trunk
To the tail of the elephant walking in front
To stop them from doing a bunk.
There were fifteen in all, so 'twere rather a job
To get them linked up in a row,
But once he had fixed 'em Joe knew they'd hold on,
For an elephant never lets go.
The pace it was set by the big 'uns in front,
'Twas surprising how fast they could stride,
And poor little Aggie, the one at the back...
Had to run till she very near died.
They were walking one Sunday from Blackpool to Crewe,
They'd started at break of the day,
Joe followed behind with a bagful of buns
In case they got hungry on t'way.
They travelled along at a rattling good pace
Over moorland and valley and plain,
And poor little Aggie the one at the back
Her trunk fairly creaked with the strain.
They came to a place where the railway crossed road,
An ungated crossing it were,
And they wasn't to know as the express was due
At the moment that they landed there.
They was half way across when Joe saw the express-
It came tearing along up the track-
He tried hard to stop, but it wasn't much good,
For an elephant never turns back.
He saw if he didn't do something at once
The train looked like spoiling his troupe,
So he ran on ahead and he waggled tho buns
To show them they'd best hurry up
When they caught sight of buns they all started to run,
And they soon got across at this gait,
Except poor little Aggie-the one at the back,
She were one second too late.
The express came dashing along at full speed,
And caught her end on, fair and square
She bounced off the buffers, turned head over heels,
And lay with her legs in the air.
Joe thought she were dead when he saw her lyin' there,
With the back of her head on the line
He knelt by her side, put his ear to her chest,
And told her to say " ninety-nine."
She waggled her tail and she twiggled her trunk ;
To show him as she were alive;
She hadn't the strength for to say "ninety-nine,"
She just managed a weak "eighty-five."
When driver of th' engine got down from his cab
Joe said "Here's a nice howdedo,
To see fifteen elephants ruined for life
By a clumsy great driver like you."
Said the driver, "There's no need to mak' all this fuss,
There's only one hit as I've seen."
Joe said, "Aye, that's right, but they held on so tight
You've pulled back end off t' other fourteen."
Joe still walks around with his elephant troupe,
He got them patched up at the vet's,
But Aggie won't walk at the back any more,
'Cos an elephant never forgets.
poem by Marriott Edgar

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A prayer for rain
We prayed rain God to shower freely
We gladly invited and extended willingly
It was now his turn to come down heavily
We wanted to enjoy the rain drops merrily
The earth had dried up and developed big cracks
The surface looked barren with loosing some tracks
It looked as if some had deserted and left behind
No sign of life over vast lands and nothing to find
We had witnessed long dry seasons every year
There used to be rain fall shortage leading to fear
Cattle had no grass to graze with no means to quench the thrust
The good rainfall was desired and needed almost
As the luck would have it, it rained alarmingly
The dark clouds were thundering and rained smilingly
For hours together there will be constant down pour
We were confined indoors and feeling very bore
For few days it was enjoyable and looked pleasant
We may notice free movement of different insects and ants
They had their own needs and wants
We were happy to receive it with thanks
Soon we were to be put in lot of troubles
It was heavily flooding and creating problems
There was no respite and stayed as long spell
It was impacted all over with miseries only to tell
The life is completely paralyzed with complete stand off
No movement of traffic and everything at grinding halt
We had prayed for reasonably good fall
It has resulted in to many deaths by collapsing the walls
We wish to pray again for immediate halt
It is appeal from heart to stop the assault
We want it to stop and come to our rescue
We have received the rain which was due
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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Easy Driver
Easy driver, shes a wicked rider
Shes smooth and shes skinny and shes probably mean
Easy driver, pull up beside her, roll down the window on this fine machine
Chorus:
(ooh ooh ooh) dont turn away, (ooh ooh ooh) just give me a sign
(ooh ooh ooh) dont be afraid, (ooh ooh) love is so hard to find
Easy driver, get on up beside her, she dont drive like she knows the way
Easy driver, roads getting wider
Theres room to run and she might skate away
Come on back, baby what you say
Chorus
One lane away from love, the story of my life
Could I be good enough for your lonely avenue tonight
Its a lonely avenue tonight
Chorus
Easy driver, shes a wicked rider
Shes smooth and shes skinny and shes probably mean
Easy driver, get on up beside her, roll down the window on this fine machine
Easy driver, oh oh oh oh, easy driver, easy driver, easy driver (easy driver)
Easy driver, easy driver, easy driver, easy driver
song performed by by Kenny Loggins

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bus Driver and Bella
Bella used to catch the bus from church gate;
Everyday took same bus which was never late.
Not to miss Bella, driver always reached in time;
Reaching office daily in time, Bella also felt fine.
On seeing her, the driver opened the front door,
She stepped forward smilingly and used to board.
He started feeling joy in heart, never felt before
Cherished in his soul, towards her he was lured.
Whenever not seen her, the driver became sad,
Moved slowly with grave soul feeling the day bad.
Suddenly she stopped coming but he held his time
Reaching the bus stop chanting her names’ rhyme.
When the bus was about to reach that bus stop,
The driver used to see all around but Bella was not.
After a long, Bella was seen standing near the stop
Driver delighted and thought for few words swop.
Driver at once opened front door, asked her to rush.
She too thrown sight and smiled; turned towards bus.
To surprise Bella kept outside and looking at him told
That she had got a car standing near that billboard.
She was waiting for her husband who was nearby,
She wanted perfume for car, he had gone to buy.
They got married a month ago, she was on vacation
Driver put his foot to give bus maximum acceleration.
S.D. Tiwari
email [email protected]
poem by S.D. Tiwari

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And It Stoned Me
Half a mile from the county fair
And the rain keep pourin' down
Me and Billy standin' there
With a silver half a crown
Hands are full of a fishin' rod
And the tackle on our backs
We just stood there gettin' wet
With our backs against the fence
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Hope it don't rain all day
Chorus:
And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like Jelly Roll
And it stoned me
And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like goin' home
And it stoned me
Then the rain let up and the sun came up
And we were gettin' dry
Almost let a pick-up truck nearly pass us by
So we jumped right in and the driver grinned
And he dropped us up the road
We looked at the swim and we jumped right in
Not to mention fishing poles
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Let it run all over me
Chorus
On the way back home we sang a song
But our throats were getting dry
Then we saw the man from across the road
With the sunshine in his eyes
Well he lived all alone in his own little home
With a great big gallon jar
There were bottles too, one for me and you
And he said Hey! There you are
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Get it myself from the mountain stream
Chorus
song performed by by Van Morrison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Stoned Me
Half a mile from the county fair
And the rain keep pourin down
Me and billy standin there
With a silver half a crown
Hands are full of a fishin rod
And the tackle on our backs
We just stood there gettin wet
With our backs against the fence
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Hope it dont rain all day
Chorus:
And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like jelly roll
And it stoned me
And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like goin home
And it stoned me
Then the rain let up and the sun came up
And we were gettin dry
Almost let a pick-up truck nearly pass us by
So we jumped right in and the driver grinned
And he dropped us up the road
We looked at the swim and we jumped right in
Not to mention fishing poles
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Let it run all over me
Chorus
On the way back home we sang a song
But our throats were getting dry
Then we saw the man from across the road
With the sunshine in his eyes
Well he lived all alone in his own little home
With a great big gallon jar
There were bottles too, one for me and you
And he said hey! there you are
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Get it myself from the mountain stream
Chorus
song performed by by Van Morrison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Realized
He sat on the step asking for change
'I haven't got any spare'
pretend I don't care
wonder how he got there
ask him? Do I dare?
He tells me hes slow
at an all time low
kicked out of hostels
three times in a row
I tell him I've gotta go
my taxis waiting...
In the back seat
I speak to the girl I'm dating
'whats with the tramp? '
I tell her 'I'm loving, not hating'.
My flirting's not working
the taxi driver laughs
sees a couple, taking separate paths
life's like algebra, not making sense
always hated maths, always clothed
I asked if she takes naked baths
we were over before it started
called the taxi driver Moses
as he drove us to the red sea
we parted, we red it
told him I gave her a try
put my finger up to her
as I waved her goodbye
I realized...
I'm like the Manchester weather
I'm cold...
he continued the journey and drove
he drove me to Wimslow road
curry mile...
I staggered out in my usual drunken style
looked at Kansas then gave the sky a smile
never realized I was so drunk
she must have hated me
I must have stunk,
why did I say that?
this chickens gonna make me fat
I'm so dizzy, 'Yo! '
'Wo! You gave me a fright'
'got any change? '
'I might'
I gave him a pound
I realized he was the tramp from before
he walked into the night.
poem by Daniel McCann

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Bible Burning
The flames leapt higher and the fellow was dancing insanely about it when I arrived on the scene with my walkie-talkie and my fire
extinguisher. I jumped from the jeep before it stopped, kissed the driver and off she sped. I'd been sent by headquarters to look into a 'situation'. There, as expected, I saw a scene of unspeakable desecration. A grinning hulk of a figure was burning bibles in the little square before 'TICKETS'.
'Stop! Are you crazy? I said, running up. Do you know what you're doing? '?
'Yes', he giggled proudly, 'to both questions'.
'You are burning the Word of G
poem by Morgan Michaels

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Water.
Water drips off my body
Red water
Black water
Water that looks like glass as it rolls down my face
Stop the pain
Stop the water
Stop the liquid pouring from my body
Feel the pain
Breathe it in
Taste the hurt flowing
Flowing
Ever so smoothly
Ever so beautifully
Red water
Black water
Water that looks like glass and cuts like a knife
Red water
Looking so pretty
Glistening in the light
Black water
Staining my soul
Streaking my face
Making my pain visible
Water that looks like glass
Falls on my body
Seeps through my pores
I feel nothing inside
So breathe it in
Feel the pain
Let it hurt
And let it heal
Cuz you'll be dead soon enough.
April 5 2010
Copyright by Elaine Cole 2010
poem by Elaine Eatsbabies

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Sonnet: Alas, ’Tis a Nasty World Today!
The horrors of my yester-years are fresh;
The frescoes flash upon my Sylvian screen;
It was not easy breaking up the mesh;
What trials, tribulations through, I’ve been!
This world is nasty without any doubt;
Most people live just selfish, shameless lives;
An elephant could kill its own mahout!
Men make money like bees, honey in hives.
Our problems come from within and without;
The world won’t spare a beggar by the road;
None come to help however much you shout;
Most people need whip-lashes to just goad.
Nevertheless, you cannot blame your God;
All evil men will one day get His rod!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-11-2006
poem by John Celes

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