The Bus

14 Dec

The bus seats are a riot

of eighties brown-and-orange;

gum-flecked and grease-stained.


Wet coats steam a little.

No-one speaks

as is always the case,

though their shoulders,

and even thighs

gently rub,

cramped together on the benches.


And the bus chunters on, through





Droplets condense on smeared window glass,

as outside grey skies

and neon raincoats pass.


Newspapers rustle

and the headphone hi-hats rattle

as we all ride the bus,


into work again.



Isn’t public transport in wet weather a drab experience? In fact it’s fairly un-fun in pretty much any weather, as each person shuts the imaginary curtains around their personal world, and puts on a blank expression as they strenuously avoid any sort of human contact with everybody around them. It would be nice to chat to each other on buses and trains, and sometimes it will happen, but the fact is that if someone strikes up conversation with you on public transport there is a fair to good chance they will be a nutter. I guess that’s why everyone shuts themselves off in their own world.

9 Responses to “The Bus”

  1. niroism December 14, 2009 at 2:19 pm #

    Sounds like my regular journey to work. Well written. Will have to check out more of your poems.

    • ocksblog December 17, 2009 at 10:41 pm #


      I’ll keep on eye on your page too!

  2. opoetoo December 31, 2009 at 4:36 am #

    nice poem and commentary.

  3. Joseph Harker January 2, 2010 at 9:05 pm #

    I concur, though sometimes the crazy people on buses are great for character studies. 😉

    (P.S. I’m here snooping after you left me a comment… enjoying perusing your work!)

  4. Janine January 8, 2010 at 6:53 am #

    I’ve been on buses like that!

    “No-one speaks as is always the case, though their shoulders and even thighs, gently rub” – isn’t that always the case? Your personal space is being compromised by a complete stranger and you cannot bring yourself to strike up a conversation!

    Nice poem 🙂

    • ocksblog January 8, 2010 at 10:24 am #

      that’s the funniest thing I think – you are sat actually touching a complete stranger, and sometimes they might even be quite attractive, and yet it’s kind of against the rules to look at or even speak to them!

      Doesn’t apply everywhere of course, I’ve had a few nice conversations on buses and trains, but sometimes people have this closed body language that just says ‘don’t even think about speaking to me’.

  5. hootoo22 February 22, 2010 at 1:42 pm #

    Ah! Someone else noticing the little details of everyday life – good, good. I’ll keep a look out for your stuff.

    Check out mine – you may especially enjoy some of the poems I will be adding over the next few weeks.

    • ocksblog February 23, 2010 at 6:57 pm #

      cheers for the comment
      Yes, regular mundane life is full of poetry, isn’t it?

      I will definitely have a browse of your writing too, I always enjoy linking with other poets (though I’m not sure if I am actually a proper poet, more of the ‘have-a-go variety)

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