#peoplewatching
"I wanna feel all that love and emotion
Be that attached to the person I'm holding
Someday I'll be falling
Without caution
But for now, I'm only
People Watching"
Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 10:12 AM UTC
"She dumped me for 90 days, then called me"
a phone call I heard on my way
"It's like we're breaking bread"
a couple sharing a cookie
"Let me call this guy real quick"
Once a son arrived to meet his dad
"Say cinnamon five times fast."
That same couple
"I bought her three phone cases and she left them all in my truck."
cont. of that phone call
"Again"
Says the little girl singing in French with her mother
"We just wrote a silioque about missing summer"
The couple
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 9:42 PM UTC
_Version 1_
The bench beneath me, sunlit and still,
A perch for gazing, a world to distil.
Children scattered, a vibrant tide,
Feeding ducks, then rushing the slide.
A boy, face smeared with bread’s white trace,
Flings crumbs with an urgent, determined grace.
The ducks converge, a flurry of wings,
Ripples spreading, nature sings.
On the swings, a girl takes flight,
Her giggle bright, her hair alight.
She leans forward, daring the breeze,
Feet reaching high to the tops of the trees.
The slide claims its turn, metallic and grand,
A queue forms, restless, with grains of sand.
One child hesitates, then takes the leap,
Their laughter rises, joyous and deep.
Parents linger at the edges, near,
With watchful eyes and echoes of cheer.
The park alive, a canvas displayed,
Moments of wonder in sunlight replayed.
From my quiet seat, I watch and I see,
A world alive, endlessly free.
Time halts briefly in this golden space,
Children’s joy leaves a lasting trace
_Version 2_
The bench, my ship in a sea of spring,
Anchored in sunlight, where sparrows sing.
Children dart like kites unbound,
Their laughter the breeze, a joyous sound.
A boy, a maestro with breadcrumbs in hand,
Conducts a symphony on the rippling strand.
The ducks waltz in their feathery parade,
Water their stage, sunlight their cascade.
A girl on the swing, a pendulum in play,
Her hair catches the sun’s golden ray.
She soars toward the heavens, toes tracing skies,
A tiny comet with endless tries.
The slide gleams like a dragon’s tail,
Inviting the brave to its glistening trail.
One child hesitates, then takes the dive,
Emerging below, electrified, alive.
Parents hover like guardians of lore,
Their faces lit with quiet rapport.
The park blooms with stories untold,
Moments like petals, both fragile and bold.
From my quiet harbour, I sip the view,
A kaleidoscope of life, in every hue.
Time pauses here, where innocence thrives,
A canvas painted with radiant lives.
Mar 21, 2025
Mar 21, 2025 at 2:47 AM UTC
They sat together in the dimly lit room,
Two souls entwined in an invisible gloom.
The air grew thick, as the seconds stretched,
In a silence profound, their nerves were etched.
Eyes would flicker, searching for a place to land,
Fingers fidgeted, twisting a silver band.
A cough, a sigh, a shuffling of feet,
Echoed like thunder, in a silence discreet.
"Lovely weather," one finally said,
As the other nodded, wishing for words instead.
Their cups of tea, now lukewarm and still,
Matched the conversation, awkward and shrill.
Thoughts raced wildly, but words refused to stay,
Like skittish birds, they fluttered away.
A clock ticked loudly, in the corner it chimed,
Filling the void, with seconds unkind.
Minds would wander, then snap back in place,
Searching for cues, in the other's face.
An accidental glance, then quickly withdrawn,
Eyes meeting briefly, then back to the drawn.
Awkward silence, a dance so hard to bear,
Yet in its midst, a strange bond shared.
For sometimes in the quiet, without a word,
Connections are made, though nothing is heard.
In that fragile stillness, where time seemed to freeze,
They found a fleeting comfort, a strange, subtle ease.
Though silence hung heavy, like a cloud above,
In its awkward embrace, they discovered a kind of love.
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 2:22 AM UTC
I'll never forget
The look you gave
As
I told you something good
You looked safely lost
With a thought provoking gaze
Deep into my soul
No smile
Just a kind softness
To a wandering thought
Maybe just absorbing what I said
Saying nothing
Just looking
Were you day dreaming?
Did you even hear me?
Your beautiful eyes
Shook a nerve
A pleasant one
Having to look down
At what I was reading
I left the mutual gaze prematurely
Maybe it meant nothing
Maybe it meant everything
This is the conundrum
Sep 3, 2024
Sep 3, 2024 at 11:48 AM UTC
time slips from my fingers
when i count each passing day
that passes by like passerbys
on a busy street
walking past me, my disillusioned form
an escaped daydream from a chronic sleepwalker
a recurring thought
the clinking of atoms like drinking glasses
the passage of space
things don't make sense nowadays
never really did
i'm just a ghost with no body to call home
translucent and vague
people watching forever
forever a thought bubble in a lonely man's world.
Mar 31, 2022
Mar 31, 2022 at 2:16 PM UTC
I walk up to the counter ready to place an order to go.
With coffee and cookie in tow,
i head to my favorite spot and get ready for the show.
3..2..1 let's go!
What's the show you ask?
I don't know! It's different every day
and plays whether the sky is blue or gray.
It could be a traffic jam,
a man trying to wash people's cars,
someone getting arrested,
or even a guy in a costume saying he's an alien from mars. Whatever plays that day, it never gets old.
I get to learn about the people of my city
while staying out of the cold
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 11:43 AM UTC
I wonder,
Do you hold others
To the same exacting standard
As your razor-sharp bangs?
Is that why I've never
Heard your voice?
Why I've never seen your mouth
Form any other expression than that
Pretty, perfect grimace?
"You have beautiful eyes,"
I want to say;
But they remain downcast,
Accentuating your general
Aura of discomfort.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 8:36 PM UTC
From the back of the line—
Well, second to the back—
I see her there;
She is beautiful:
Piercing blue eyes,
Wavy brunette,
Sharp, cute nose,
Striking chin;
She is beautiful
Like the other two she is with—
Yet with the melancholy in her jewel-eyes,
More so.
She is much prettier
Than your average third-wheel;
And yet there she stands,
Waving a dismissive hand
At the offer of her two friends—
A couple, hands all over each other;
It is difficult to tell
Whose hands are whose—
To pay for her coffee;
She pays for her own.
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 12:12 PM UTC
A fifth-wear flannel, reek and all, drifted past me today,
came and went as I sat cross-legged, marinating in the patina-ed
post-meridian.
He took one last apathetic drag from a half-burnt
cigarette.
Let it fall through his fingers and onto
the cobblestones below. Callous:
an afterthought, he ball-changed and crushed
the smoke-spitting litter
underfoot.
Left me to stare at it there,
still twisting plumes
of itself up and out, streaking, snatched away
in the wind.
Left me to watch this
wisp of him sputter its
death-throes in the street.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 3:50 PM UTC
Rastafarian perches on a BT wiring cab
Slapping dark green metal and screaming
Obscenities in Patois and nonsense
Alone.
Passersby stare; shrieking oldies;
laughing kids;
bewildered Neil;
and I
Sit drinking, taking it all in
Alone.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
See her? With the impeccable taste in fashion?
She's top of her class in calculus. You probably didn't know that.
See him? With the fearless glint in his eye?
He's studying science, but he has the soul of a poet. Tests lie.
See her? Buried behind a stack of books nine tall and three deep?
She's terrified that she'll get a B, because, to her, that's failing.
See him? Museum-quality doodles and red ink decorate his papers.
He'll be president one day, if he can find something that he loves.
See me? No, actually you probably don't see me. Why would you?
I've managed to dangle from the rim of the outskirts of life so far.
Someone once told me that seeing gifts is a gift itself. Maybe it's true.
But, didn't they ever tell you that geniuses doubt themselves, too?
That we doubt ourselves most of all?
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 9:01 PM UTC
Cities are ***** grimy places
Full of people with interesting faces.
There's dark hair, blonde hair, red hair, white hair and grey ; imagine all the colours of a rainbow and then add a few.
There's fair skin, dark skin, olive skin and mellow tones too.
There's small eyes, wide eyes, blue eyes, green eyes, grey eyes and brown; some have 20:20 vision, some hide behind glasses, some wear contact lenses to enhance their sight, some have a world of darkness behind their eyes.
There's large noses, small noses, wide noses, button noses, some hold glasses upon their face, some are cumbersome, some full of grace.
There's clear skin, wrinkled skin, acne skin, damaged skin, translucent skin, soft skin, dry skin, sunkissed skin, sunburnt skin.
There's big ears, small ears, pierced ears, cauliflower ears, ears with rings in to make them wide; some people wear hearing aids to enhance what they hear, some live in total silence.
Some people are tall, some are short, some are able to walk, some need assistance every day to be able to walk even a small way.
There are cyclists and runners on every street, roller skaters, walkers your most likely to meet; add in football, cricket and rugby players too, basketball, rounders, netball, tennis and golf, squash, badminton, swimming and diving, there's such diversity in all that we do.
Libraries and Museums open their doors, sshh be quiet, though it's free to explore.
Shops, coffee shops, hairdressers a plenty, though some of the bigger spaces remain empty; cost of rent is exceedingly high and don't even think about the option to buy.
There's leisure parks to walk and have fun with your dogs, parks with swings and roundabouts for your children who are young.
Some Cities have rivers, some have canals built to let barges through.
Some Cities have harbours, marinas too, look over the Ocean at a sea that's blue.
All Cities have Universities to provide education to those from home or from far and wide.
Spoilt for choice of courses to attend there's professions of course, doctors, dentists, lawyers and nurses, accountants and vets. There's media, dance, English language and literature, geography, history and maths. There's IT, cookery and drama and how to handle a camera. There's business and entertainment, wedding planning and Latin. Any subject of your choice can be found somewhere around.
You can find comedy clubs, poetry readings, chess clubs, scout clubs, lego groups, cookery classes, sewing classes, reading groups, right outside your door, if you took the chance to look around your neighbourhood and the time to explore.
Don't write off the City though it may look ***** and grimy in places, it is as you can see, full of interesting people and places.
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 1:08 PM UTC
The people watcher.
Only deemed creepy if caught.
Eye contact? Never.
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 9:19 PM UTC
She's sitting in a nearby booth
telling her friends a story.
She says
"It was mid-day.
Like, noon.
Like, the sun was, like,
directly above us"
I was on my way out,
so I did not catch the rest
but I secretly imagine it sounded like this:
"We were, like. almost exactly half way through,
like this twenty-four-hour period.
It was the opposite of, like, midnight -
like, the opposite of crickets, gazing at stars
and contemplating the utter insignificance of,
like, all life on this planet."
"It was all, like, birds chirping, and like,
one single star in a blue sky,
so close and so bright that gazing at it would, like,
blind you or something."
"It was like this pure moment,
like, a rush of endorphins, or adrenaline.
like there was nothing
that mattered more
than the two of us,
there,
then,
like, around twelve P-M, to be specific"
"It was, like, you know, lunch time.
So I asked if they, like,
wanted to hang out,
grab something to eat, maybe,
or maybe, like,
you know, do something else
or whatever..."
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 6:50 PM UTC
Let me paint a picture within your mind,
There is a picture on the wall with two bodies mid fall, they are positioned in a decaying building with widows just behind them, cascading then in a ominous light.
There is a mother and daughter, and a in training service dog with gold and black fur and a purple vest with poo bags on the left, the mother, short grayinh hair wearing a grey sweater, and pants to match, jots down information as the daughter, pink and blond hair wearing a black cardigan over a blue with white striped dress and a hat black with a variety of colored paw prints separated by hearts, recites information found on her phone.
Over a frozen lake, glides a white sail with a green rim, it's stands out against the pearlescent background caused by the haste of the setting winter sun.
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 11:20 AM UTC
Will it be latte, espresso, or tea
Daydream coffee drinker, that would be me
Nat King Cole on the audio
Singing about things I already know
People watch
Coffee cup lipstick blotch
Pours the cream to cool the steam
Fearing what the future will bring
I may be living on a shoesting
In a coffeehouse daydream
Things are better than what they may seem
Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 5:13 PM UTC
*i watch you walking
as I sip
my morning tea
what’s your story?
i see your glory
as you walk down the street
i am honored
to behold your presence
as I watch you from afar
you are gods in motion
i can see you
behind the scars
©2016janetaylor
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 10:42 AM UTC
Wander from Argyle Street towards the pyramid shaped monolith
past the oddly named Benny Hamish - Sicilian Couture Tailors -
through the automatic glass doors of persuasion
up the revolving stairs of many stairs
sail by the portly security guard
(who looks like he'd be out of breath after a 10 yard dash)
along the imitation marble airstrip
passed neon facades and signs for proactive self indulgence
toward the carousel of smoked-mirror lifts
that take the well heeled to their desired destinations
without having to worry about their Chanel leather clutch bag
and newly purchased Christian Louboutin shoes
and I sit people watching,
writing this poem on a borrowed napkin
with a discarded betting shop pen
amid a horde of timid stomachs and twitching wallets
faced with a thousand fast food offerings
and gaudy coloured tables and chairs
littered in the remnants of repugnant non-ecological eateries
and Styrofoam cups and re-composite cutlery
under Noah's grotesquely beautiful steel ark
lined in industrial tubing and chrysalis shaped netting
and giant Art Deco toothbrushes
and 30 foot wiggly mirrors
and stretched rhombus sails
acting as a blanket barrier
to the blue skies and arched sun of the outside world
somewhere between
KFC and Burger King.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC
You ain't gotta lie
You ain't gotta try so hard
You don't have to flex to impress me
Be real and cool and maybe we'll vibe
You ain't gotta lie all we have to do is chill out and vibe sit around smoke an L lay back listen to music I'm allergic to ******** come at me with it I split like a banana I know that's random but I'm proving a point you don't have to lie to get in the joint
You ain't gotta lie
You ain't gotta try so hard
You don't have to flex to impress me
Be real and cool and maybe we'll vibe
You ain't gotta lie mom's said there'll be days when you question everything in your head she said those were the days when you find out who's gonna be real and ride with you until you're dead life ain't all about chasing that cake and making bread we're all gonna be in the same grave six feet deep permanently asleep so you don't gotta flex like a young dude about to have ***
You ain't gotta lie
You ain't gotta try so hard
You don't have to flex to impress me
Be real and cool and maybe we'll vibe
You ain't gotta lie I can't talk to a mattress I'd rather speak in a surreality to a canvas plant this seed in the soil of your mind
That all the loudest cans are the emptiest inside so that same logic applies to all of humankind
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 2:34 AM UTC