Famous School Bus Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous School Bus poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous school bus poems. These examples illustrate what a famous school bus poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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...es,
yellow as a hill of daffodils,
yellow as dandelions by the highway,
yellow as butter and egg yolks,
yellow as a school bus stopping you,
yellow as a slicker in a downpour.
Here is my bouquet, here is a sing
song of all the things you make
me think of, here is oblique
praise for the height and depth
of you and the width too.
Here is my box of new crayons at your feet.
Green as mint jelly, green
as a frog on a lily pad twanging,
the green of cos lettuce upri...Read more of this...
by
Piercy, Marge
...e Eastern brook trout in there,
high up in the mountains, living in the wakes of beaver darns.
The guy who drove the school bus drew a map of Grider
Creek, showing where the good fishing was. We were standing
in front of Steelhead Lodge when he drew the map. It was
a very hot day. I'd imagine it was a hundred degrees.
You had to have a car to get to Grider Creek where the
good fishing was, and I didn't have a car. The map was nice,
though. Drawn with a heavy dull pe...Read more of this...
by
Brautigan, Richard
...of this world SCHOOL ZONE SPEED 25 MILES
and sank to the cold bottom of the lake. It lay there white
belly up like a school bus covered with snow. A trout swam
over and took a look, just putting in time, and swam away.
The surgeon and I were talking about the AMA. I don't
know how in the hell we got on the thing, but we were on it.
Then he wiped the knife off and put it back in the sheath. I
actually don't know how we got on the AMA.
The surgeon said that he had sp...Read more of this...
by
Brautigan, Richard
...for Greg Fallon
A kid yells "*************" out the school bus window.
I don't think anyone notices the afternoon clouds turning pink along the horizon,
sunlight dripping down the stone facades,
the ancient names of old stores fading like the last century
above the street, above the Spandex women who adjust their prize buttocks,
sweating in the sun as I wonder how this city that has no more memory of itself
t...Read more of this...
by
Hillringhouse, Mark
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