Wednesday, 8 December 2010

And the minutes, the hours, the days

I've been waiting for the right time to post his poem. The right time occurred last week, waiting in the snow for a bus. I saw three in a row arrive at the same time. Whenever that happens I think of this poem and it takes my mind off the wait. I first discovered this poem whilst I was waiting metaphorically for the right bus to arrive. Thankfully he arrived and the destination was clear.

Bloody Men

Bloody men are like bloody buses-
You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear.

You look at them flashing their indicators,
Offering you a ride.
You're trying to read the destinations,
You haven't much time to decide.

If you make a mistake, there is no turning back.
Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze
While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours the days.

Wendy Cope

red bus


  1. One of my favourite poems - I love that line about 'flashing their indicators'! I too got on the right bus many years ago, and have thought about jumping off a few times when the road got bumpy, but thankfully stayed for the duration!

  2. So true. About both men and buses =)
    I once waited for a bus for an hour and a half on the coldest day we'd had in decades and I honestly almost cried when it finally arrived.

  3. That's really great...and so exciting that you've had a lot of snow, hopefully we're next!
    Julie xo


Ooh how lovely more stripes on the page...
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