Bus Journeys


Good stream of consciousness which makes it flow.  The falling asleep and the cacophony of sounds lend a sense of familiarity to the piece. Captivating style.


Alex Currie

Three sections well marked out, yet you move easily from on to the next. The electric green contrasts well with the threadbare carpet (which tells a story in itself). The straggling grass ‘in’ the bungalow premises opposite echoes the carpet within. I particularly like ‘My room is not exactly a sun trap.’


A recognizably  Edinburgh view. The camera moves smoothly from the inside to the view beyond before focussing below. I particularly like the initial shock and criticism before becoming part of the crowd.


The different identities offer self-reflection.

There is a story building up round the couple opposite from their various activities and the suggestiveness from their driving different cars. The poem at the end is a an imaginative descriptive conclusion.


View from the window:

The singular moment of a rainfall, with the hills in the distance, sets the atmosphere for a gripping beginning for a horror story to unfold…

The bedroom ‘clutter’ has the imprint of individuality and a cosy lived in space. I like the idea of the treasured yellow TV.


The ‘incredibly narrow retreat of dishevellement and dissaray’ is in contrast to the regularity of a tenement, contrasted with the flitting people in an ever changing scene of activity.



Appropriate verse layout of an endless litany of advice. The last line interrupts and clinches the piece.


Strong contrasting voices in the girl’s rebellious interruptions to an unforgiving, self-righteous string of commands.



Striking contrasts in a quiet, ‘clutching’ man (repetition stresses a certain nervousness) and confident booming voiced new arrival.


The two pairs form good contrasts, as the Mediterranean couple’s tension  is very different from the shared camaraderie of the mums. The lone man, working silently with his back to the writer – could be the beginning of another story…