Terry Collett
Terry Collett
3 hours ago

We cycled to the park
and sat on the grass
near the duck pond.

Milka looked
over the pond.

That was a close thing,
Benny, she said,
didn't think my mum'd
be back so soon.

I looked at her
sitting there
in her jeans
and white top.

I mused on us
just having had sex
when we heard
the car draw up
outside the farmhouse,
and Milka said:
fuck me it's Mum
back already.

She jumped off the bed
and dressed as fast
as she could.

I got off the bed
the other side
and dressed,
listening out for sounds
downstairs.

Did she suspect
do you think?
I said.

Don't think so,
Milka said,
she thinks
you're too good.

I am,
I said.

Milka pulled a face:
I hope she doesn't go
into my room
while we're out,
I didn't get a chance
to tidy up
before we left,
Milka said.

We sat and watched
the ducks for awhile
then got our cycles
and rode to see
the peacocks near
her farmhouse.

I mused on what
her mother would
have said
if she'd found us
at it in Milka's bed,
but I closed
the thoughts down
out of my head.

A BOY AND GIRL ONE SATURDAY 1964.
#girl   #boy   #saturday   #1964  
May Davis
May Davis
21 hours ago

My side slumped against the bathroom door
My mind could only race more and more

My hands gripped the door knob tight
My heart knew this couldn't be right

My ears were filled with a lack of sound
My eyes dropped cold tears to the ground

My arm finally opened the door
My body hit the hardwood floor

My puddle of tears was all that surrounded me
My lungs were burning and I could no longer breathe

My love was slowly slipping away
My words could not be used to sway

Breakups are always rough...
#love   #boy   #breakup  

.
Your face,
Louder than the moon,
Drowning me
Out into the long night,
Is so warm,
Like sun tendering heather.

Your voice,
Lifting me like a feather,
Into great sky
Weightless as I fall high,
Downy and rich,
As babe is swaddled nigh.

Your touch,
Sets my weary soul aflame
And I call out
Into the night carving names,
Writ in comets,
Yet to crash, that I am starlight.

#love   #girl   #boy   #vow   #pact  
not hessa
not hessa
2 days ago

windowpanes move with every step he takes
but i've got both feet hammered to the ground
a fly flies by, barely grazing the tip of my nose
and i cry a small but helpless "thank you"
they come around every five months or so
shave the kids hair right off
it looks like a cut but it's really a peck, ma
can you stop worrying over what goes up my nose?
he is, he was, and he will forever be
the eternal gem of his trailer trash town
where girls wear blue eyeshadow and low rise jeans
and boys drive pickup trucks
he left, he left the dried up town years ago
yet he still speaks to me with a bittersweet twang
hospice- he is warm and just
he plucks a plum off a cherry tree
a prickled plum, just ripe, for me

this is inspired by my 100% british friend trying to be a cowboy in class.
#girl   #memories   #fun   #boy   #friendship   #america   #nostalgia   #imagery   #south   #england  
Lunar Love
Lunar Love
2 days ago

Depth doesn't scare her.
In fact, it's the one thing she looks for in almost everything.
She was a swimmer, one who floated face-up in deep waters-- in the pool, sea, and metaphorically, life.
Depth to her, was a symbol of freedom and significance.
She wasn't afraid of it or getting lost in it. If she let the tides carry her of their will and to the shore, she knows she wouldn't drown. In the end, she was at home in waters and their uncertain depths. She didn't always need to see the bottom or what is waiting for her. This was life to her.

The same applies to the winds of the night sky, where she was a light cloud with a fleeting presence. She would be here today, and the next moment she would be gone with the wind, swept up in the dark skies above, far off into the deep atmosphere.

All the more has she fallen deep for this certain person in her life, a descendant of Orion.
His eyes were as bright as Betelgeuse and were deeper than the darkest parts of the ocean. Sucked into the whirlpools of his eyes, and into the windows of his soul, did she get a glimpse of how he was like.
She would give anything in exchange for a long soak: she was deep in her love for him.

On afternoons she finished her swimming regimen in the sea and headed to the hilltop sports complex before sundown.
There, she watched him shoot arrows with his long bow embraced by his long arms. His deft fingers positioned to hold the arrow in place, and she almost felt her heart stop like the way a criminal froze in surrender before a policeman pointing a gun at him.
Only in her case, he wasn't a policeman nor was she a criminal (unless watching him without him knowing would be considered stalking, therefore an offense), he held a bow, not a gun and that he was not aiming at her.

But the way his slender body heaved with every deep breath spurred a similar memory in her: steady, balanced and clear as the skies above and the waters beneath her body and surf board.
Just before the board and her arms slice through the water's surface tension; just before he releases the arrow which pierces through the light air around him. Staying still for so long to get the perfect posture puts a pressure on one's body. To see him let go with one eye shut for focus was a relieving sight to her.
She knew that familiar tension and expectation that surrounded him.
To her, watching him was like star gazing as always; he was, after all what she called a "descendant of Orion". He was the only thing she saw so bright and clear in that dim archery room and only the sunset casted soft shadows on his face.

She wondered if he would ever find out about the way she felt for him. Every time an arrow slipped through his fingers faster than a time-slip, she felt as if a part of him departed along with it.
Why was it so, she thought, that it seems like I'm loving the impossible; a night dream which won't be carried off and fulfilled by dawn? As if he was a dream too deep in my sea of memories, anchored to the bottom of improbability and unable to rise to the surface to make itself known to him.
A fresh salty breeze filled the air. This happened whenever the winds blew over the waves of she didn't notice her own tears fall.

His life had a sense of leaving in it. It was either the way his arrows left him and his bow or when he left the sports complex; and in the future, leaves the town and leaves her life. It was more than decided that he was bound to leave the place and head back to the metropolis where he came from.
He belonged to the city of bright lights.
Nothing can ever compare to the way he shines, though, she said to no one but the winds and waves that build up her life.
He was a rocket fueled for takeoff. Ready anytime to leave, to return to the sky, back in the home of the stars.

And she was a mere girl who sought depth in her life:
the water, the sky,
their existence and his eyes.

when i saw wjh hold a bow and arrow
and given my circumstance of being a swimmer
i thought of 5 centimeters per second !

Chapter 7 of Finding You.
Spooky Babe
Spooky Babe
2 days ago

I wonder if your eyes still know me
I wonder if they'd recognize my face
I wonder if they'd water if they saw me
I wonder if I've even left a trace
I wonder if I'm in your veins
I wonder if you've gone insane
I wonder if you can still feel me
I wonder if you even miss me
I wonder if you wonder about me
I wonder if you wonder how I feel
I wonder if you even give a damn
I wonder if our love is even real

January 18, 2017 4:19pm for my love across the fucking world
#love   #heartbreak   #sad   #girl   #boy   #relationship   #distance   #heartache   #ldr   #emotional  
Ellie Sora
Ellie Sora
2 days ago

Do you remember that night?
The night you died?
You ran to the sea
Almost unconscious.

Your body craved to be exposed
To the cold winter air.
You could almost hear
As your bones were trembling
Underneath your dry frosty skin.
The waves were calling you,
Beckoning you towards your future.
They stole your future.

As you were embraced by the water,
Your head was already filled
With nothing
But dread.
You almost fought for survival.

Submerged underneath,
The water was singing your name.
And you were dancing to the melody
That had you drowning.
And you were willing
To give it your last drop of air.

Your body
Was not yours to control.
It was already consumed
By the Sirens of the sea.
And your purple lips
Were singing
In sync with the Water Nymphs’ song.

And you were enjoying every second of it
For you have had enough
Of everything going wrong.

Your attempts
To go above water
Were more than plain hopeless,
For you had already soled your rightful place
In the world of the living.

Your skin was not yours anymore.
It was hardly even human flesh,
For it was blue like the sea.
You almost looked like a Nymph yourself.

Your teeth cracked
To the exposure of the winter air.
You were not welcomed above anymore,
You were to be endlessly in water.

Your whole naked body
Was chained
With invisible shackles,
Pulling you down,
Showing you mercilessly
Where you were now belonging.

Last attempt.
And the bottom cried your name,
Melting your fragile
Naked young body
In the icy depths.

Do you remember that night?
The night you died?
You ran to the sea
Almost alive.

And you seem to be pleased
With how the waves play
With your unsteady corps.

You seem fine
With the way they spin you around
Until you can’t understand anymore
Where is up
And where is down.

You don’t seem bothered
By the way the water
Mashes your head in the rocks.

You seem okay
With the sea draining your blood.

And you don’t seem to care
How the cold winter water
Takes your empty life.

Simply
You reached to Heaven.
And it reached to you.

You were endlessly searching
For something
More Than This.
And that consumed you.

This was inspired by a book  (Patrick Ness - More Than This) I read few months ago. It was very emotional for me, since I found myself related to the protagonist...
#suicide   #death   #boy   #winter   #this   #more   #than   #sea   #patrick   #ness  
Terry Collett
Terry Collett
3 days ago

Shoshana
mused on
Naaman a

boy from school
her sister
was in her

own bedroom
soft sobbing
Shoshana

had walked past
the closed door
she didn't

knock or call
just walked past
her sister

was pregnant
their father
was rowing

downstairs with
their mother
Shoshana

shut her door
slowly walked
to the wide

window and
looked out at
the garden

she could see
where her dad
had dug the

flower bed
there were birds
pulling our

soft earthworms
with their beaks
Naaman would

know which birds
they all were
she wished he

was there now
beside her
with his book

of wild birds
and his arm
about her

whispering
in her ear
his soft words.

A GIRL MUSES ON A BOY AT HIGH SCHOOL IN 1962
#girl   #boy   #school   #high   #1962  
Terry Collett
Terry Collett
4 days ago

Sheila sat on her bed.
School was a bore.
Benny was there,
but nothing happened.

We sat at lunch time
recess on the sports field,
but nothing. Others were
there: girls together or

boys playing football.
I felt all odd inside
being next to him.
Wanted to kiss him,

but I didn't I just sat
next to him listening
to him talk. How I got
through the boring lessons

without getting told off
I don't know. My mind
wasn't in it. Just Benny
in my thoughts. Those hazel

eyes of his. That quiff
of hair. That smile like
that Elvis I've seen in
newspapers. Be dinner soon.

Mum moaned about my room
when I came in just now.
So untidy she said. I wonder
if I will kiss him tomorrow.

Unless it rains and we are
stuck in during recess.
Sheila's mother called her
for dinner. Sheila stood up

and carried her thoughts
of Benny with her down
the stairs to dinner. Sometimes
it felt as if Benny was in her.

A GIRL'S MUSING ABOUT A BOY AT SCHOOL IN 1962.
#girl   #boy   #school   #high   #1962  
Terry Collett
Terry Collett
5 days ago

Yochana didn't look happy
when I saw her
in class
Monday morning.

Her friend Angela
sat next to her
and was whispering words
to her.

I sat next to Rennie
at the back.

He was talking
about his weekend
and football.

I was taking in
Yochana's back,
picturing it
as I was next to her
in the guest's bed
that Saturday night.

Her parents asleep
in their room.

She had crept
into the guest's room
and climbed into bed
beside me.

I wondered if
her parents
had found out
and that was why
she was so unhappy.

Miss G came into
the classroom
and the talking stopped
and we sat up straight.

I tried to push
Yochana and her parents
from my mind,
pushing ahead
with the lesson
after registration.

But it was like
the blind
leading the blind.

A BOY IN HIGH SCHOOL IN 1962.
#girl   #boy   #school   #high   #1962  
 
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment