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Reba McEntire

Finding a good bus driver can be as important as finding a good musician.

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Magic Bus

Every day I get in the queue (too much, magic bus)
To get on the bus that takes me to you (too much, magic bus)
Im so nervous, I just sit and smile (too much, magic bus)
You house is only another mile (too much, magic bus)
Thank you, driver, for getting me here (too much, magic bus)
Youll be an inspector, have no fear (too much, magic bus)
I dont want to cause no fuss (too much, magic bus)
But can I buy your magic bus? (too much, magic bus)
Nooooooooo!
I dont care how much I pay (too much, magic bus)
I wanna drive my bus to my baby each day (too much, magic bus)
I want it, I want it, I want it, I want it ... (you cant have it!)
Thruppence and sixpence every day
Just to drive to my baby
Thruppence and sixpence each day
cause I drive my baby every way
Magic bus, magic bus, magic bus ...
I said, now Ive got my magic bus (too much, magic bus)
I said, now Ive got my magic bus (too much, magic bus)
I drive my baby every way (too much, magic bus)
Each time I go a different way (too much, magic bus)
I want it, I want it, I want it, I want it ...
Every day youll see the dust (too much, magic bus)
As I drive my baby in my magic bus (too much, magic bus)

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Death Alley Driver

Rough and ready rider
In a supersonic sound machine
Rock and roll survivor
Chrome pipes between your knees
Running all the red lites
Your gonna make a dead stop
But you just cant see the signs
Oh - youll never win the race
But you cant give up the chase
Death alley driver
Living at high speed
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...who knows what you need
Death alley driver...
One hundred twenty five smokin on the turns
Always on the hit and run
But you never learn...
Running from the man... and youre running
From yourself
Another dirty angel heading straight to hell
Oh - youll never win the race
But you wont give up the chase
Death alley driver...
Live in overdrive...death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...ride to stay alive
Death alley driver...
Lets go
Red lights in the mirror
Danger on the band
Got to take a detour cause a road blocks up ahead
He takes you on the corner with a wave of his hand
Death is in the back seat of a big old black sedan
Oh - youll never win the race...
As you turn and see his face...
Death alley driver...
Movin for the kill
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...
Time is standing still...
Death alley driver...
Always on the run cause youre a...
Death alley driver
Love the way it feels
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver
Hell on wheels...
Death alley driver... ooh -

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The Bus to Nevermore

The snow lay deep on the countryside
When they left to catch the bus,
Heading out to Milwaukee, first
They left New York in their dust,
The guys were happy and laughing then
To be off on the winter tour,
The pickers picked and the jokers joked
On the bus to Nevermore.

They'd had a couple of hits or three
And they'd topped the charts with one,
The kids were mad for their rock 'n roll
At each auditorium,
The towns they travelled were tiny towns
But the audiences roared,
They rocked Kenosha, then headed out
On the bus to Nevermore.

The heater failed and the bus, it froze
And the smiles then died away,
They huddled up in the cold and dark
But they played each town by day,
They switched their buses, more than once
When the diesel ceased its roar,
But every bus in its turn was just
The bus to Nevermore.

The bus broke down on a lonely road
As the snow fell through the night,
The fields were a winter wonderland
But the cold began to bite,
By the time that a roving patrolman
Found the bus, they were more than sore,
The drummer suffered from frostbite
On the bus to Nevermore.

The tour was running in circles
From Wisconsin to Iowa,
To Minnesota and back again
But nobody seemed to care,
Except the fellows that rode the bus,
Each day they cursed and swore,
'This bus is part of the Devil's fleet!
The bus to Nevermore.'

Tired and dirty and cold they drove
To Appleton, Green Bay,
Then overnight they had huddled up
For the trip to Clear Lake,
They played the show in their crumpled clothes

[...] Read more

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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

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Victor Should Have Been A Jazz Musician

I went to a concert, to see nina, simone,
The concert was over, there was still a band playing, the rap up,
The booguh played with his hands, I close my eyes, and look at him,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
I said to myself, victor should have been a jazz musician,
I looked at his face, and I saw victor, looked at his smile, and I saw victor,
I looked at his hair, and thought,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
And the people dancing on the floor, dancing on the floor, were so high,
You should have seen victor smile, you should have seen victor smile,
As they danced all the while all around on the floor, and he laughed,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Oh, victor should have been a jazz musician,
He was playing so nice, the jazz musician,
Ah, ah,
Hes living in a fast beat, in a city thats hot,
Telling all the latinos and puerto ricans, victor seems happy, but he doesnt even know himself, hes gotta look inside to know his first love,
Victor was a jazz musician, he was playing so nice, victor was a jazz musician, (? ) victor was a jazz musician,
Victor loves his music, he loves his music, somewhere, he plays his music, somewhere,
Victor is a jazz musician,
Jazz.

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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 sdtiwari1@gmail.com

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The wheels on the bus

‘The wheels on the bus
Go round and round
Round and round
Round and round
The wheels on the bus
Go round and round
Round and round
Round and round
All night long’

The driver on the bus goes
Rush rush rush
Rush rush rush
Rush rush rush
The driver on the bus goes
Rush rush rush
Rush rush rush
Rush rush rush
All night long

The children on the bus go
Wow wow wow
Wow wow wow
Wow wow wow
The children on the bus go
Wow wow wow
Wow wow wow
Wow wow wow
All night long


The fathers on the bus go
Blush blush blush
Blush blush blush
Blush blush blush
The fathers on the bus go
Blush blush blush
Blush blush blush
Blush blush blush
All night long


The mothers on the bus go
Hush hush shus
Hush hus hush
Hush hush
The mothers on the bus go
Hush hush hush
All night long

[...] Read more

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Bus ride at night

At quarter to five
the driver refuses,
that I get on a bus
in Burnett street
because it is already full.

There are men, woman and children
and we talk various languages
while we wait for the bus
and I see a car guard
dancing in the street
while he does tricks like a clown.

We wait on the next bus
and the afternoon passes
and the bus is very late
and it stays away
and just Putco and North Star busses
stop at other places.

At dusk the bus appears
and it’s got a double deck,
but is also full
and on the top level the roof is so low
that I bump my head
while it draws from the curb.

There’s no place to sit down
before we travel halfway to the city
and there’s a crowd of people around me
and we sit tight against each other
and in the front a child is holding onto a bar
while she licks the window with her tongue
and try to draw spit lines.

The bus braids through cars,
but it takes longer than an hour
to ride two stages
and a woman calls her husband
to pick her up at church square.

In Visagie Street the cars stand in a traffic jam
and it becomes night
while we wait in the traffic
and I embark from the bus
and twist through the pedestrians
and everywhere there are people
that stand in dark corners
and alleyways
and shout at each other in foreign languages.

[...] Read more

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Trip to Nowhere

The bus stood still in the cul-de-sac,
He knew it had come for him,
For the colours of day were beginning to fade
And the nights had been closing in,
He'd not been bad, as in 'terrible bad'
Was less than a good man, true!
But the bus stood still in the cul-de-sac
With the legend - 'Coming for YOU! '

He waited there by the myrtle hedge
Then he heard the motor catch,
The driver, he was a terrible man
With a cloak and a hood to match,
He stopped the bus with a squeal of brakes
As the doors had folded in,
And rasped, 'Hey Carcass, clamber aboard
Let the ride of your life begin! '

The passengers sat there two by two
All grey in the fading light,
Not one had looked at another in there
In the gloom of their present plight.
They passed the cemetery walls at dusk,
Slowed down, then drove right in,
And sank right under the ground just there
At a stop called - 'THE SEVENTH SIN! '

A sign outside said 'Vanity',
Another sign said 'Lust',
Most of the passengers got off there
And promptly turned to dust!
The driver laughed in the back of his throat
And thrust the bus in gear:
'We'll find a stop that will suit you more
If it takes to the end of the year! '

A host got off at 'Gluttony',
Another few at 'Greed',
Most of the rest at 'Envy' left
Who'd wanted more than their need.
That left but two of them seated there
On the bus that was bound for Hell,
The other guy blanched when they got to 'Sloth',
Reached up, and tinkled the bell.

Then just the one who'd clambered aboard
Was left with a stop to go,
He clutched a briefcase under his arm,
And yelled, 'You drive too slow! '
The driver growled, and planted his foot,

[...] Read more

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Driver Smith

'Twas Driver Smith of Battery A was anxious to see a fight;
He thought of the Transvaal all the day, he thought of it all the night --
"Well, if the battery's left behind, I'll go to the war," says he,
"I'll go a-driving and ambulance in the ranks of the A.M.C.
"I'm fairly sick of these here parades -- it's want of a change that kills --
A-charging the Randwick Rifle Range and aiming at Surry Hills.
And I think if I go with the ambulance I'm certain to find a show,
For they have to send the Medical men wherever the troops can go.

"Wherever the rifle bullets flash and the Maxims raise a din,
It's here you'll find the Medical men a-raking the wounded in --
A-raking 'em in like human flies -- and a driver smart like me
Will find some scope for his extra skill in the ranks of the A.M.C."

So Driver Smith he went to war a-cracking his driver's whip,
From ambulance to collecting base they showed him his regular trip.
And he said to the boys that were marching past, as he gave his whip a crack,
"You'll walk yourselves to the fight," says he -- "Lord spare me, I'll drive you back."

Now the fight went on in the Transvaal hills for the half of a day or more,
And Driver Smith he worked his trip -- all aboard for the seat of war!
He took his load from the stretcher men and hurried 'em homeward fast
Till he heard a sound that he knew full well -- a battery rolling past.

He heard the clink of the leading chains and the roll of the guns behind --
He heard the crack of the drivers' whips, and he says to 'em, "Strike me blind,
I'll miss me trip with this ambulance, although I don't care to shirk,
But I'll take the car off the line today and follow the guns at work."

Then up the Battery Colonel came a-cursing 'em black in the face.
"Sit down and shift 'e,, you drivers there, and gallop 'em into place."
So off the Battery rolled and swung, a-going a merry dance,
And holding his own with the leading gun goes Smith with his ambulance.

They opened fire on the mountain side, a-peppering by and large,
When over the hill above their flank the Boers came down at the charge;
They rushed the guns with a daring rush, a-volleying left and right,
And Driver Smith and his ambulance moved up to the edge of the fight.

The gunners stuck to their guns like men, and fought as the wild cats fight,
For a Battery man don't leave his gun with ever a hope in sight;
But the bullets sang and the Mausers cracked and the Battery men gave away,
Till Driver Smith with his ambulance drove into the thick of the fray.

He saw the head of the Transvaal troop a-thundering to and fro,
A hard old face with a monkey beard -- a face that he seemed to know;
"Now who's that leader?" said Driver Smith. "I've seen him before today.
Why, bless my heart, but it's Kruger's self," and he jumped for him straight away.

He collared old Kruger round the waist and hustled him into the van.

[...] Read more

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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

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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

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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

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Goodbye Routemaster

The iconic (damn, I swore I’d
never use that word..)
red London bus
was designed by the lively minded
for the active lively – those who
take a few chances with life,
look for a little excitement,
test their limits, enjoy
– the French have a phrase for it –
the little happinesses, sweetnesses, or
good fortunes, it doesn’t
translate quite so well –
let’s say, exhilarating moments?

viz.:

the back platform, a step
nearer the ground, is open; rubber-floored;
a central vertical bar,
wound with a grip-fast plastic,
midway on the edge of the platform; then
on the vertical edge of the rear bus-back,
a substantial holding bar
which never lets you down;
another horizontal bar
the other side
to steady you either getting on or off

so

you’ve just missed the bus as
it begins to pull away?
Don’t worry – you’re young to middling,
the driver’s still to change from low gear as
he pulls away from the kerb and queue;
you check the platform’s clear;
a short run;
grab the upright bar with the right hand,
right foot on platform, then
left hand on vertical bar –and there -
a small but significant personal achievement,
a confirmation that life’s for the winning;
the breathing deeper, healthier;
quicker than the gym or marathon

and correspondingly,

you’re on the bus, you’d like to get off soon
but it’s quite a few yards, or chains, or furlong
to the next bus stop - but eureka! – the bus slows

[...] Read more

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I wonder what a bus ticket buys

The driver fights with a passenger
that she thinks sleeps at times
on the top level of the bus
and something must be wrong
in her life
as she climbs into a child
because he did not take a school bus

I wonder what
a bus ticket buys,
but it stays far better
to take a bus
than to have to walk a long distance.

I wonder
if it takes a special person
to drive a bus,
or what rights it gives
above that of other people
if you climb behind the steering
of a bus?

Somebody asks the white
bus driver lady
for what she is looking
this morning and suddenly
she’s silent
and I can ride in peace further
while she swallows her tongue.

Bus drivers that are rude
I have experience a lot of times
and it has happened
that one stares hateful
at me
because I am white
and wanted to cut
every ticket of the coupon.

Still I am thankful
to use a bus
when I need one
and that some drivers
makes it a pleasure
to drive with them.

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The Cornishman

The train pulled away from the station,
The driver grinned up at the box,
The signalman glowered at the driver's face
As he slotted the lever across,
The train slid easily through the points
As it blew three whistle blasts,
One for the train, one for the box,
And one for Miss Caroline Glass.

Caroline waved him a cheery farewell
From the cottage she owned on the bank,
She'd once been engaged to the signalman,
But now she'd moved up a rank.
'A driver is such an important man, '
She'd said to her former beau,
'He holds all those lives in his hands when he drives,
And he crosses the country, so.'

'But you - you stand in this signal box,
Pull levers, and ring little bells,
I'd rather be out on the railway track
With the steam blowing over the vales! '
And so it was, there, in the pub one night,
While enjoying the Olde Tyme Dance,
The driver cut in, and he whirled her around
As the signalman watched, askance.

'I'm going to be driving The Cornishman, '
The driver had told her then,
'It's really an honour, the Cornwall Express,
Come down, and I'll show you around.
The coaches are really the latest type,
With cushions, and bright as the sun…'
So Caroline gave back her ring that night,
Then shrugged - said: 'It's been fun! '

The signalman brooded, and wept at night,
To think of his Caroline Glass
Alone in the arms of the driver, Ben,
While he sat alone in the house.
He vowed revenge, but he didn't know
How ever he'd win her back,
She never would look at the signal box
While the train was down on the track.

He watched her boarding The Cornishman
First Class, to travel for free,
At the end of the trip, in a cheap hotel…
The signalman thought he could see,
Just what they would do at the end of the line

[...] Read more

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Another One Rides The Bus

(parody of queens another one bites the dust)
Riding in the bus down the boulevard
And the place was pretty packed (yeah!)
Couldnt find a seat so I had to stand
With the perverts in the back
It was smelling like a locker room
There was junk all over the floor
Were already packed in like sardines
But were stopping to pick up more, look out
(chorus)
Another one rides the bus
Another one rides the bus
Another comes on and another comes on
Another one rides the bus
Hey, hes gonna sit by you
Another one rides the bus
Theres a suitcase poking me in the ribs
Theres an elbow in my ear
Theres a smelly old bum standing next to me
Hasnt showered in a year
I think Im missing a contact lens
I think my wallets gone
And I think this bus is stopping again
To let a couple more freaks get on look out
(chorus)
(weird sound effects)
Another one rides the bus
Another one rides the bus
Another one rides the bus ow
Another one rides the bus hey hey
Another one rides the bus hey-ey-ey-ey
The window doesnt open and the fan is broke
And my face is turning blue (yeah)
I havent been in a crowd like this
Since I went to see the who
Well I shouldve got off a couple miles ago
But I couldnt get to the door
There isnt any room for me to breathe
And now were gonna pick up more
(chorus)

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Homer

The Iliad: Book 23

Thus did they make their moan throughout the city, while the
Achaeans when they reached the Hellespont went back every man to his
own ship. But Achilles would not let the Myrmidons go, and spoke to
his brave comrades saying, "Myrmidons, famed horsemen and my own
trusted friends, not yet, forsooth, let us unyoke, but with horse
and chariot draw near to the body and mourn Patroclus, in due honour
to the dead. When we have had full comfort of lamentation we will
unyoke our horses and take supper all of us here."
On this they all joined in a cry of wailing and Achilles led them in
their lament. Thrice did they drive their chariots all sorrowing round
the body, and Thetis stirred within them a still deeper yearning.
The sands of the seashore and the men's armour were wet with their
weeping, so great a minister of fear was he whom they had lost.
Chief in all their mourning was the son of Peleus: he laid his
bloodstained hand on the breast of his friend. "Fare well," he
cried, "Patroclus, even in the house of Hades. I will now do all
that I erewhile promised you; I will drag Hector hither and let dogs
devour him raw; twelve noble sons of Trojans will I also slay before
your pyre to avenge you."
As he spoke he treated the body of noble Hector with contumely,
laying it at full length in the dust beside the bier of Patroclus. The
others then put off every man his armour, took the horses from their
chariots, and seated themselves in great multitude by the ship of
the fleet descendant of Aeacus, who thereon feasted them with an
abundant funeral banquet. Many a goodly ox, with many a sheep and
bleating goat did they butcher and cut up; many a tusked boar
moreover, fat and well-fed, did they singe and set to roast in the
flames of Vulcan; and rivulets of blood flowed all round the place
where the body was lying.
Then the princes of the Achaeans took the son of Peleus to
Agamemnon, but hardly could they persuade him to come with them, so
wroth was he for the death of his comrade. As soon as they reached
Agamemnon's tent they told the serving-men to set a large tripod
over the fire in case they might persuade the son of Peleus 'to wash
the clotted gore from this body, but he denied them sternly, and swore
it with a solemn oath, saying, "Nay, by King Jove, first and mightiest
of all gods, it is not meet that water should touch my body, till I
have laid Patroclus on the flames, have built him a barrow, and shaved
my head- for so long as I live no such second sorrow shall ever draw
nigh me. Now, therefore, let us do all that this sad festival demands,
but at break of day, King Agamemnon, bid your men bring wood, and
provide all else that the dead may duly take into the realm of
darkness; the fire shall thus burn him out of our sight the sooner,
and the people shall turn again to their own labours."
Thus did he speak, and they did even as he had said. They made haste
to prepare the meal, they ate, and every man had his full share so
that all were satisfied. As soon as they had had had enough to eat and
drink, the others went to their rest each in his own tent, but the son
of Peleus lay grieving among his Myrmidons by the shore of the
sounding sea, in an open place where the waves came surging in one

[...] Read more

poem by , translated by Samuel ButlerReport problemRelated quotes
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Why it’s so only to me?

Why it’s so only to me

I was getting ready
To go to office
Dressed up
Reached dining table
For breakfast

I heard my wife
“The milk got spoilt
The bread got charred
Why it’s so only to me? ”
You were telling something

I asked my wife
“Just thinking something”
She said, making me realize
That I am now blessed
With the power of
Hearing what others think
“Why it’s so only me”

With this thought dominating
I stepped onto the road
I would not have made
Even 100 steps
I heard a voice
“My master is wonderful
He gets me anything
I can think of
But the problem is
He will not allow me
To piss on this good looking lamp post
Why it’s so only to me? ”

I saw a dog being guided
By an elderly gentleman
My sense is so sharp
It can decipher what animals
Can think
But again the puzzle
“Why it’s so only to me? ”

I reached the bus stop
I saw a middle aged lady
Running to catch
A bus already on the move
The door of the bus closed
And the bus left without her,
Who was gasping

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Halloween Quartet No 1 Graveyard Special

Standing at the bus stop waiting,
when the stranger asked.
“Has anyone seen the Graveyard Special?
I hope I haven’t missed it
or they won’t let me out next year.”
I shook my head and said. “Sorry, no.”
The stranger turned to me.
He wore a tuxedo, bow tie and patent polished shoes.
He looked like a dancer
and an odd smell rose around him
that of rotting decay.
“Been a nice night, hasn’t it.”
“Yes, but they forecast rain.”
“Been out with your girlfriend
and now catching the last bus home? ”
“No, I haven’t got one.”
A cloud passed across the moon
and the strangers face became partially visible
under the pale light of the moon.
A pale face with a sullen look
engraved with hard shadows.
“Going home? ” I asked,
“Yes, we are only allowed out once a year.”
“You live in an old people’s home? ”
“Something like that.” Returned a whispery reply.
A mist descended and swirled around us.
“My bus I can see it.”
The mist became thicker swallowing us up.
The brightly lit bus stopped,
its destination board read Graveyard Special.
The stranger got on and the bus doors shut.
Into the mist, it went to be swallowed up.
The mist then evaporated as quickly as it came.
My bus arrived and as I paid my ticket I remarked.
“I didn’t know the bus company
put on a special bus just for Halloween.”
The driver shook his head and said.
“They don’t, that bus is for the dead ones
who get out once a year.
I have been following it on its route
as it picks them up one by one
to take them back before
the first streaks of dawn appear in the sky.
It takes them back to the graveyard
for another year to stay.”
Getting my ticket, I sat
my hands trembling at the thought
that I had spoken to a ghost.

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