This is a poem by Charles Bukowski titled Nirvana: 

Not much chance completely cut loose from purpose
He was a young man riding a bus
Through North Carolina on the way to somewhere
And it began to snow

And the bus stopped at a little café in the hills
And the passengers entered
And he sat at the counter with the others
And he ordered the food arrived
And the meal was particularly good
And the coffee

The waitress was unlike the women he had known
She was unaffected and there was a natural humor which came from her
And the fry cook said crazy things
And the dishwasher in back laughed a good clean pleasant laugh

And the young man watched the snow through the window
And he wanted to stay in that cafe forever
The curious feeling swam through him that everything was beautiful there
And it would always stay beautiful there

And then the bus driver told the passengers that it was time to board
And the young man thought I'll just stay here
I'll just stay here
And then he rose and he followed the others into the bus
He found his seat and looked at the café through the window
And then the bus moved off down a curve downward out of the hills

And the young man looked straight forward
And he heard the other passengers speaking of other things
Or they were reading or trying to sleep
And they hadn't noticed the magic
And the young man put his head to one side
Closed his eyes and pretended to sleep

There was nothing else to do
Just to listen to the sound of the engine
And the sound of the tires
In the snow

Writing music and poetry have been a part of my life for many years, along with science and martial arts. I've written a lot of songs, almost all of which no one has ever heard, including close friends. Me playing covers and reading this poem is a step toward it. My main passion is artificial intelligence (especially engineering of it into real-world systems) but guitar, piano, wrestling, jiu jitsu, and judo have helped me in that pursuit in fundamental ways that I hope to elucidate over time. If this is not your thing, please be patient and ignore it. But if you enjoy it, your support and love are always appreciated.

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Not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose.

It was a young man riding a bus to North Carolina on the way to somewhere, and it began to snow.

And the bus stopped at a little cafe in the hills, and the passengers entered, and he sat at the counter with the others, and he ordered.

The food arrived, and the meal was particularly good.

The waitress was unlike the women he had known.

She was unaffected, and there was a natural humor which came from her.

And the fry cook said crazy things, and the dishwasher in the back laughed a good, clean, pleasant laugh.

And the young man watched the snow through the window and he wanted to stay in that cafe forever.

The curious feelings went through him that everything was beautiful there and it would always stay beautiful there.

And then the bus driver told the passengers that it was time to board.

And the young man thought, I'll just stay here.

And then he rose, and he followed the others into the bus.

He found his seat and looked at the cafe through the window.

And then the bus moved off, down a curve downward out of the hills.

And the young man looked straight forward, and he heard the other passengers speaking of other things or they were reading or trying to sleep, and they hadn't noticed the magic.

And the young man put his head to 1 side, closed his eyes, and pretended to sleep.

There was nothing else to do, just to listen to the sound of the engine and the sound of the tires in the snow.


Speaker 0: Nirvana by Charles Bukowski. Not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose. It was a young man riding a bus to North Carolina on the way to somewhere, and it began to snow. And the bus stopped at a little cafe in the hills, and the passengers entered, and he sat at the counter with the others, and he ordered. The food arrived, and the meal was particularly good.

And the coffee. The waitress was unlike the women he had known. She was unaffected, and there was a natural humor which came from her. And the fry cook said crazy things, and the dishwasher in the back laughed a good, clean, pleasant laugh. And the young man watched the snow through the window and he wanted to stay in that cafe forever.

The curious feelings went through him that everything was beautiful there and it would always stay beautiful there. And then the bus driver told the passengers that it was time to board. And the young man thought, I'll just stay here. I'll just stay here. And then he rose, and he followed the others into the bus.

He found his seat and looked at the cafe through the window. And then the bus moved off, down a curve downward out of the hills. And the young man looked straight forward, and he heard the other passengers speaking of other things or they were reading or trying to sleep, and they hadn't noticed the magic. And the young man put his head to 1 side, closed his eyes, and pretended to sleep. There was nothing else to do, just to listen to the sound of the engine and the sound of the tires in the snow.

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Nirvana by Charles Bukowski (read by Lex Fridman)