43. Bus Stop


Review of Bus Stop

In “Bus Stop,” the poet turns inward, slowing the tempo to trace the contours of a quiet but deeply charged encounter between two people navigating the aftershocks of intimacy. This isn’t a story of new love beginning, but of old love redefined—an attempt to meet not in nostalgia or regret, but in the present tense of understanding, support, and fragile reconnection.

Unlike earlier poems that capture the thrill of romantic ignition (“Stars In Your Eyes” or “First Kiss”), “Bus Stop” is subtler, more introspective. It opens on a grey Monday—symbolic, perhaps, of emotional uncertainty or the heaviness of what’s unspoken. The meeting is not accidental but arranged, hinting at a shared desire to bridge the space between who they were and who they might still be to one another.

She arrives late. They walk. She’s tense. But he is patient. And slowly, as if retracing steps both literal and emotional, a quiet comfort begins to return. What’s striking here is how little is said outright; instead, the weight rests in the gestures—in the shortcut walk through familiar streets, the thoughtful planning together, the length of the hug, the detail of that remembered bus stop after a party months before.

The poet layers past and present with effortless grace. The “star-shaped fairy lights” from the earlier encounter glimmer again—not as romantic idealism, but as a memory now reframed by time and emotional evolution. The stranger’s shout—“I love you!”—adds a surreal, cinematic moment of unexpected levity, lifting the heaviness just long enough to allow a smile. The bus arrives. They part. Not in heartbreak, but in mutual recognition.


Summary of Themes

“Bus Stop” captures the emotional tightrope of post-breakup friendship—the effort to remain connected without slipping into old patterns, and the longing for sincerity amid changed circumstances. The poem acknowledges the residue of tenderness without romanticising it, offering a mature reflection on how love can shift into something gentler, if both people are willing to meet each other in the liminal space between what was and what now is.

The poem also continues the broader themes woven through this sequence: memory, emotional vulnerability, and the intimate significance of small moments. Where earlier poems pulsed with flirtation and discovery, “Bus Stop” pauses to ask what it means to care for someone beyond desire. What remains after love? What shape can connection take when stripped of seduction, drama, or expectation?


Conclusion

In “Bus Stop,” the poet demonstrates a rare emotional subtlety, allowing a quiet encounter to speak volumes. The restrained tone, familiar details, and understated emotional shifts form a narrative of quiet courage: two people choosing to show up, despite everything. It’s not a grand reconciliation, nor a painful goodbye. Instead, it’s something more grounded—and perhaps more difficult—a moment of realignment, where respect and memory coexist. In this way, “Bus Stop” continues the poet’s commitment to rendering modern relationships in all their beautiful, awkward, necessary complexity.

42. First Kiss at London Bridge

Review of First Kiss

In “First Kiss,” the author continues in the tradition of narrative poetry, delivering a subtle yet emotionally resonant scene of romantic transition, awkward timing, and the complexity of new beginnings. This poem reads like a memory retold in confidence—matter-of-fact in its delivery, yet laced with quiet intimacy, humour, and realism.

The story is clear and unadorned: a chance meeting on a rooftop, a flirtation that sparks conflict, and a relationship that ends to make way for another. But the poem’s strength lies not in grand gestures or romantic idealism—it lies in its refusal to romanticise. This isn’t a fantasy kiss beneath falling cherry blossoms; it’s a kiss at London Bridge station, amid train noise, glasses coming off, and awkward logistics. There’s something deeply human in that—something modern and emotionally raw.

The restrained tone invites the reader to sit in the space between the lines: the discomfort of endings, the giddiness of new connections, the unspoken vulnerabilities wrapped up in moments of physical closeness. The inclusion of small details—the misfit dinner orders, the Japanese word for egg, the rainy night, the bad mattress—elevates the piece beyond mere recollection. These fragments of lived experience become the heartbeat of the narrative, grounding the romance in tangible, awkward, beautiful reality.

Summary of Themes

At its heart, “First Kiss” is about emotional transition, vulnerability, and the imperfections that define human connection. The poem quietly reflects on how relationships begin—not in neat, curated moments, but in the messy overlap between endings and beginnings. The tension between desire and discomfort, between what is said and what is felt, drives the poem forward without needing to overstate its significance.

There’s also an underlying meditation on choice—the quiet agency of a woman navigating two realities, ending one, and stepping (however uncertainly) into another. The tenderness of that first kiss is counterbalanced by the cold, rainy night and the restless sleep that follows. The two truths coexist.

Conclusion

“First Kiss” is a beautifully understated piece that captures the emotional terrain of intimate moments without sentimentality. It speaks to the fragility of beginnings—the little cracks that let light in, even when everything else feels uncertain. With its naturalistic voice, honest detail, and restrained delivery, this poem invites readers to reflect on their own moments of emotional risk, and to remember that even the most imperfect kisses can mark the beginning of something quietly significant.

41. Small World

Review of “Small World”
Monday 31st July 2006

In “Small World”, the author shifts into the mode of narrative poetry, weaving a delicate, cinematic vignette that captures the sweet ache of serendipity, connection, and unfinished business. Set against the backdrop of a spontaneous house gathering, the poem is rooted in the fleeting beauty of a moment, where two creative souls find themselves drawn together—again. The tone is light, conversational, yet rich in emotional nuance, gently exploring the nature of human chemistry, timing, and the strange ways the universe threads people’s lives together.

The setting is simple: a band in a living room, poetry in the garden, eggs for breakfast. And yet, in that simplicity, something deeper stirs. The rhythm of the narrative mirrors the rhythm of memory, with moments unfolding almost as if remembered in retrospect. The discovery of their previous meeting—marked by a single red carnation—adds a layer of magical coincidence, a motif of recognition that suggests something fated, or at the very least, not random.

Rather than leaning into fantasy, “Small World” remains grounded in realism. There’s no sweeping declaration of romance here, just the quiet, truthful acknowledgement of two lives briefly intersecting, complicated by the entanglements of existing relationships and unfinished chapters. Still, they connect, create, share a bed, share stories, and begin to reweave a shared thread from different parts of their lives.

Summary of Themes

This poem gently explores serendipity, recognition, and emotional realism. It speaks to those uncanny moments when lives overlap and interlace through art, music, place, and memory. The shared language of creativity—singing, guitar playing, poetry—acts as the bridge between the two, a common ground on which their connection unfolds. The “small world” isn’t just geographical; it’s emotional, social, artistic. Their story becomes a quiet echo of so many modern connections: honest, temporary, meaningful.

Conclusion

“Small World” is a beautifully understated portrait of a brief romantic encounter, told with clarity, restraint, and poignancy. It doesn’t promise forever—it doesn’t need to. Instead, it offers a moment of reflection on the importance of fleeting connections, of people who arrive just long enough to stir something within us before life moves on. With its conversational tone and lyrical honesty, this poem will speak to readers who have ever felt the quiet electricity of a serendipitous meeting, and who understand that sometimes, that is enough.