Come mi vuoi?

Paolo Conte originally released this song on a previous album, but I know the version he did on his 2003 compilation album, Reveries, much better.

Come mi vuoi

cosa mi dai,

dove mi porti tu?

How do you want me, what do you give me, where do you drag me ?

Dammi un sandwich e un po' d'indecenza

e una musica turca anche lei
metti forte che riempia la stanza
d'incantesimi e di spari e petardi
eh come mi vuoi?

che si senta anche il pullman perduto
una volta lontana da qui
e l'odore di spezie che ha il buio
con noi due dentro al buio abbracciati
eh come mi vuoi ?

How do you want me, what do you give me, where do you drag me?
Come mi vuoi? Cosa mi dai ? Dove mi porti tu ?

Take a sandwich and my indecent charm
hear the music, and what do you think
Swingin swingin see
this room is flying
through the sorceries, firework and bangers
man, this is your world

Today is Guy Fawkes Day

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,

The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,

I know of no reason

Why Gunpowder Treason

Should ever be forgot.

Traditional

Back to Buses

This one isn't Poetry for Buses, but instead a poem written by contemporary English poet, Wendy Cope.

Bloody Men

Bloody men are like bloody buses -
You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear.

You look at them flashing their indicators
Offering you a ride.
You're trying to read the destinations,
You haven't much time to decide.

If you make a mistake, there is no turning back.
Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze
While the cars, the taxis and the lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours, the days.


I found this one in a book titled "Bleeding Hearts - Love Poems for the Nervous & Highly Strung", compiled by Michelle Lovric.

a new baby boy

One of my friends gave birth to her second baby, a little boy, Thursday night.

Baby's First Day

Wonder of all wonderment!
Momentous moment when small form
First feels life in itself.
When new eyes open wide
On old, old world.
When tiny hands handle air;
Touch tenderness and love.
When ears first wake to sound
And silent lips find voice and food.
Soon newly wakened baby wearies.
World will keep.
Being born is quite enough
For one short day.
Baby hands rest;
Baby mouth yawns;
Baby eyes close in sleep.

by Mary Dawson Hughes

Twin Cities - Everything But The Girl

This is one of my favourite ETBG songs, although I have many favourites! I'll probably share some more as time goes on. I think the subject matter may help it appeal to me. :)

Now we're in twin cities
Where the Mississippi rises and then falls
One is Minneapolis and the other no less famous is St. Paul
There are stray dogs on the highway
And the local farmers moan about lack of rain
When the winds blew last winter I swear England had another hurricane
Hurricane….

And we are twin cities, and we are that river
From the standing still, we will be delivered

Last time in New York was with Mandela and Madonna and the Mets
(Last time I was in New York)
They’re icons of an era where that’s about as famous as it gets
(That’s what I call famous, baby)
I’ve seen cities full of ticker-tape, and cotton-trains through Utah disappearing out of sight
Now I’m standing in a city that’s as pretty as an ocean in the night

And we are twin cities, and we are that ocean
From the standing still, we are set in motion
And no one calls me up to say “How long are you going to be away?�?"
(Are you ever coming back?) Yeah yeah… (Are you ever coming back?)
No one calls me up to say “Don’t let that life lead you astray�?"
(Don’t forget to come back)Yeah! (Don’t forget to come back)

They were rioting in Detroit on the night the Pistons won it back to back
(won it back to back)
I was out of there the next day, and I only had just two bags to pack

And we are twin cities, and we are one river
From the standing still, we will be delivered
And we are twin cities, and we are one ocean
From the standing still, we are set in motion

Yeah…

We are twin cities…
We are one river… (We… are… twin… cities…)
One ocean…

More Poetry on Buses

All from 1999. I must have read these the first year we were in Seattle - 2000.

Untitled

I keep a dandelion in full fluff,
Protecting it from breezes and my
Clumsiness
Having not yet found
The perfect wish

Vivienne Alcantara

When we went to school

You’re lucky

We sat in rows like bowling pins
The teacher rolled the questions
And knocked us over
One by one.

You toss answers around like basketballs
Even when you are wrong,
Your teacher never calls a foul.

Elaine P Bishop

Fourteen

As you slam plates, shove silverware, knock
pots and pans into drawers and shelves, suffer
the loss of TV privileges for some imagined misdemeanor,
hole up in the dark corner of your room - it occurs to you again,
that perhaps you were separated at birth from your real
family, the one with the Palm Springs vacations,
the hired housekeeper,
the effortless adolescence.

Donna Miscolta

Poetry on Buses

In Seattle, we didn't have a car for our first few years, so we took the bus to the supermarket and if we ever wanted to go anywhere. We didn't need it for commuting though as we both lived and worked downtown. However, when I was in New Zealand, I commuted to work on the bus every day and I also used the bus to get to and from University at least a few times each week.

I found this poem while living in Seattle. The King County Metro hosts an annual poetry competition for residents of King, Pierce, Kitsap and Snohomish Counties. This poem is from 1999.

Poetry for Buses

You, sitting behind me again.
Do you always have to take this bus?
What is the story with that cough, anyway?
Is it maybe the longest running cold
In the history of colds?
Or do you think it could be the cigarettes?

You do plan to get off pretty soon,
Don’t you?

R McNaughton Phillips. I ride the bus and I write poetry, but rarely at the same time.