The Bus

The thickest smog that I’d ever seen

Came down as I caught the bus,

It swirled on down from the chimney tops

And mixed with the fog at dusk,

The factories belched out sulphur

And the houses burned black coal,

Whenever the fog came down back then

It ate right into your soul.

 

The bus took off with its fog lights on

And the lights were on inside,

The passengers faces all were dun

And grey on that long, slow ride,

We couldn’t see more than a yard ahead

So the bus just idled along,

A couple of lads said ‘lighten up!’

And burst right into a song.

 

It took an hour to cover a mile

I thought I’d never get home,

The world had shrunk to a dim-lit bus,

There wasn’t a telephone,

We’d gone two hours and were nowhere near

The place that I had to go,

Some of the others decided to walk

The bus was going so slow.

 

The bus conductor finally went

To walk ahead of the bus,

The driver could see the back of his cap

Through the fog, but only just,

We ambled on at a walking pace

I heard a barking dog,

Then jumped on down from the ambling bus

Caught deep in the devil’s smog.

 

I kept myself to the nearside kerb

I could feel it underfoot,

And walked on past the conductor

Walked as fast as I thought I could,

I couldn’t see anything up ahead

I knew what it was to be blind,

But felt my way in a bleak dismay,

Scared to be left behind.

 

I passed a car, parked at the kerb

But only by sense and feel,

I ran my hand on the duco, then

I stumbled beside the wheel,

I’d gone ahead, a number of yards

When I heard the bus go ‘crump’,

And a muffled scream like a furtive dream

Made me turn in shock, and jump.

 

The bus was pinned to the back of the car

The conductor in between,

I walked up close in the swirling fog

And then I began to scream,

For blood was pouring out of the mouth

Of the man, crushed flat in the dark,

And the driver, he was hysterical,

As he backed the bus from the car.

 

I was only a schoolboy then

In a city of smogs and mist,

It took two hours to walk on home

I was crying, fit to burst,

My father waited out by the gate

And said, ‘You’re safe, thank God!’

But I threw up on the pavement, then

Cried: ‘Where was He in the smog?’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Scott S]

Hi David,

I found this piece by chance, and am so grateful that I did. This is a wonderful work, in my opinion. As Katie Lynn stated, you have created a story here with a fabulous poem. I love the way that you created the eerie scene with the elements of dark and fog. I actually could see myself at the scene you created, and for a writer to be able to grip his readers like that, is truly good work, sir. I really liked the religious twist/question at the end. I look forward to reading more of your material. Take care.

[Jasmine]

Reads a lot like a short story - a narrative quality to the poem. I found the second half more gripping than the first (but that's probably because it's late and I'm too tired to concentrate!)
Engaging elements of nostalgia and years of wisdom. I enjoyed reading.

[minisla]

A true storyteller David

[Onyia-Ali, Kingsley Chu..]

I appreciate how you masterfully turned your story into a poem, the imagery is well captured.