Number Thirteen to Trafalgar Square

leaning, in the weak winter sunlight
rolling watching two sturdy guys pushing,
throwing all of their weight at a number 13
bus... trevor and i ran to assist their
helpless attemp to shift the misplaced
double decker; four oldtime country boys
and me, all trying to shift a london bus
stuck in the yard of a facless operation
running some of the 'public' transport...
it shuddered forward , but then fell
right back onto our braced shoulders and
we probably could have moved the
lost looking london route master,
but... it was time for a tea break
so as i walked away i took care to glance
back over blue shoulder of my dust
covered overalls so i could see better
the letters emblazoned above the driver's cab
and it kinda made me sad to think that
maybe my mum and dad used to ride this bus
and now its here... lost looking, just
like most of us

Nicely observed piece, sampson... particularly the conclusion

I just felt some of the lines detailing the situation could have been left out - telling the reader too much trivial background information that detracted from the 'moment' and indeed the 'momentum' of the poem

lines 8, 9 and are unnecessary, I felt.... and why mention trevor? (guaranteed to pop an image into the reader's mind that again distracts and dilutes the poignancy of the piece).

But with a little trimming, cutting out all the inessential ephemera, this could be really good

H

A title that could have been that of a movie (by Hitchcock?) and a poem that could easily have been a scene from it.

I don't feel qualified to give any kind of critical appraisal, but this I will say. Having been a bus driver, many years ago, strange though it sounds, it gets in to your blood, and they cease to just be inanimate chunks of metal and plastic. Well, the older ones, anyway. That being the case, I thought that the poem struck a nice resonance, and I throughly enjoyed every word of it. I could absolutely picture the scene.

The routmaster has a place in the psyche of anyone over 35 I should think. Nice observation with a little to think about as well.

Oh my long-ago, dear friends, when I drove the Routemaster - plus, amazingly, 140 other types! Warning - I have a gold-plated anorak, but I can't help wondering if there is any other nation that gets so misty-eyed/aerated/angry/nostalgic/opionated about public transport as the British! Does another country have bus, or even tram museums?

Thanks for your comments guys; they're much appreciated!

Hillwalker, I'm not sure quite why you feel that detailing the situation to such an extent takes away from the impact of the piece; could you explain a little further by any chance? I will say that I tried to recreate the situation as it was in order to convey just how out of place the bright red bus (to me a symbol of the vibrancy and diversity of London) looked in such a dreary and mundane rural setting...

I think it's a good, well contrasted picture, with a moving, nostalgia tone... perhaps hill is right, some trimming would only contribute to even stronger an effect... Thanks for sharing this. Best - Bar

The details about the bus's location, specifically

stuck in the yard of a facless operation
running some of the 'public' transport...

is, I felt, a superfluous description in a piece that has already invited the reader to picture the situation for themselves.
I can see what your intentions were - to contrast the vibrancy of the bus with its current lifeless location, but I felt the initial scenario created enough pathos (the bus needing a shove to get it moving) without adding the quite specific details of where its demise is taking place.

As well as these two lines I meant to query the inclusion of line 14 (missed out in my original post - typo!) which again destroyed the fragile image of a grand old man of the road suddenly faced with harder times.
I can surmise why you have inserted this comment about the tea break in the poem, to create an ironic hiatus possibly, but all it does is draw the reader's attention away from the careful setting you have painted. Perhaps the contrasts you are at pains to include could be done in a more subtle way if you feel they are a necessary part of the poem.

But overall I enjoyed the poem..... and my comments are a purely personal opinion - you will certainly have as many readers telling you to leave well alone.

Best regards, H

Cheers for clarifying man. I see what you mean more now; I agree that the piece could lose some lines... I wrote this a long time ago and finished it off recently; maybe I'll come back to it again in a few months