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I sat breathless on buses
Posted: 03 February 2003
Word Count: 77
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I
sat
breathless
on buses
as they played the Panamericana!
Through irrigated fields
across desert dust bowls
I
sat
breathless!
My feet
twitching
My toes
feeling my toes
My hand
pushing away
the hairy arm of the hairy man
sat
sleeping
on my
unhairy shoulder.
In the dead of night
On frozen buses
I
sat
breathless!
In the darkness
and in the light
While eating
While drinking
While talking,
not talking
Walking,
not walking
Smiling,
not smiling
I
was
breathless!
In Cotahuasi,
in Colca
In the cold,
in the heat
With alpacas,
with condors
With the terraces
beneath
my
feet
or across
rock-
strewn
landscapes
I
was
breathless!
---Jib, September 2000
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Comments by other Members
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 Anna Reynolds at 13:05 on 03 February 2003
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This poem is so unusual-- the energy and momentum of the lines are terrific. and the imagery is beautiful-- the alpacas, the condors. The very short, economical lines convey such a sense of pace and story. If I may make a tiny suggestion-- lose some of the exclamation marks, you don't need them, this is absolutely gorgeous and has its own frantic rhythym. lovely. Want more.
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 James Graham at 16:29 on 14 February 2003
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I've printed out your poem and will comment in a couple of days (after the demo!)
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James Graham at 11:40 on 16 February 2003
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This is very effective. The feeling of the journey comes over right away, and the short lines, repetitions and rhythms are what do the trick. Not much criticism to make, except maybe the lines that refer to the landscape, which seem too abstract. You see so many things so briefly from a bus or train, but sometimes glimpses of particular trees, shapes, buildings, figures seem to stick in the memory. If I was writing a poem like this, it would probably be about Germany, and it would hurtle breathlessly
past
the hurdy-
gurdy man
with the
mechanical
monkey
past the house
with a tree
growing out
of its chimney
I think something like this could work very well at the end, instead of, or as well as, terraces and rock-strewn landscapes. The landscape lines at the beginning (irrigated fields and desert dust-bowls) are fine.
But this is a minor criticism of a poem that communicates instantly to the reader.
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 Jack at 22:09 on 17 February 2003
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Agreed Anna, worth noting as well is the fact that (correct me if I'm wrong Jib) the places described are at an altitude where just climbing the stairs would leave lowlanders like us breathing hard. I think the gasping stacatto rhythm neatly conveys this as well as the awesome scenery. Liked it!.
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Hilary Custance at 16:05 on 20 June 2003
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Jib, I've been meaning to look at this ever since it was mentioned in an earlier discussion. I saw it on the random list (the list works!) in a flying visit to the site.
I really travelled with your poem. The language and the descriptions, the shape and the pace carried me. A terrific poem, which I shall print out, re read and show to my daughter before she sets off for America - (if that is not breaching copyright). Did you ever read it in a poetry meeting? Cheers, Hilary
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