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Jul 2014 · 634
A QUICK DATE.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
Nima looked bored
as we walked
the art gallery
she was only allowed out

of the hospital
for a few hours
promising no drug fixes
or *****

can't we go elsewhere?
she asked
bored here
I felt her boredom

it seeped into my bones
let's go for a coffee
I said
so we went for a coffee

in a coffee bar
across the road
and had a smoke
you were late

she said
I only have a few hours
out of that mad house
sorry I popped

into the jazz record shop
and left me waiting
in Trafalgar Square
she said

what did you buy?
nothing yet
I said
I'll go back later

saw a Coltrane LP I liked
I said
***** that jazz stuff
she said

we drained our coffees
and walked back
to the train station
and I saw her

on her train
and kissed her
at the window
and the train went off

and I watched
until she was out of sight
then back tracked
to the jazz record shop

to buy the Coltrane LP
thinking of Nima
and the time
we had a ***

in that cheap hotel
by Charing Cross
and the bed creaking
and the odd

hot and cold water taps
and she and I
laying there
I walked back

to the gallery
for a last look around
thinking of the Coltrane
and the Coltrane sound.
A BOY AND GIRL AND A QUICK DATE IN 1967
Jul 2014 · 232
WHERE NOW?
Terry Collett Jul 2014
Where now,
Yiska-
where now

do you lay
your head?
That summer,

that green grass,
your head
in my lap,

the hair damp
from the sun's heat,
the eyes closed

against glare of sun.
Where now do you lie?
Yiska-

there once we lay,
summer's warmth,
blue skies,

your hand in mine,
my finger tracing
the curve

of your spine.
Whose arms now
embrace you?

Yiska,
who lips, now,
plant kisses

along your neck
and thigh?  
Which sun?

Which dull
or blue sky?
THINKING OF A LONG AGO LOVE.
Jul 2014 · 338
BORED YOUNG ME.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
Milka's brothers and I
had been out for a few hours
and rode back on our bikes
and just as I

was about to leave
Milka came out
of the farmhouse
and wandered over to me

aren't you staying?
I watched her brothers
go into the house
I got to get back

I said
what about me?
can't we go some place?
haven't much time

I said
where you going?
cinema
to see Elvis

in some new movie
can't I come?
have you money?
no but you

could lend me some
to get in
she said
I looked back

at the farmhouse
what are you going
to say to your parents?
they will let me go

if you say I can
she said
I looked around
the fields and trees

at the rooks
in the high trees
ok
I said

and walked back
to the house
and saw her mother
at the door

and asked her
she stared at Milka
hope she hasn't
been pestering you?

she said
no I’d like her to come
I said
if that’s ok?

the mother gazed at me
then at Milka
I suppose you
want money then?

she said to Milka
no it's all right
my treat
I said

Milka's brothers
came to the door
poor old Benny
got caught

go back in boys
and leave this to me
the mother said
she gave Milka some money

and told her
to get some
decent clothes on
and I waited

in the kitchen
watching Milka's mother
make a cake
her floury fingers

hard at work
a set look
of determination
on her face

the boys had gone off
to watch TV
leaving the cake making watching
to bored young me.
BOY AND GIRL AND FIXING A DATE IN 1964.
Jul 2014 · 737
THE OLD MAN'S MISADVENTURE.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
My old man
was always
neat and tidy.  

Brylcreemed hair
(what was left),
smart suit,
shiny shoes,
brown brogues,
well trimmed moustache,
staring eyes.

Get your best shirt
and trousers on,
we're going to see
this new Jeff Chandler film,
Western, and put on
that bow-tie I bought you
and make sure
your shoes are shiny,
he said.

I went and got changed
and put on the bow-tie
he bought(how I hated
that thing) and shoes
buffed to a shine of sorts,
short trousers,
the next to best,
and I was ready,
kissing mother
on the way out.

We went in the cinema
a 1/3 of the way through
the first feature,
sat in the seats,
his eyes fixed
on the screen,
I looking around
to see who was in
and who was who.  

I looked at him
beside me;
the neat moustache,
well trimmed,
the eyes watching
the screen,
a cigarette between lips,
smoke rising.

I recalled the time
at another cinema,
another film,
another Western,
and we were ¾
the way through,
when he ups
and leaves
in a sudden rush.

I watched the screen
and chewed the popcorn,
thinking the old man
had gone to the bog,
an adult thing
or so I thought.

Then 5 minutes after
a young usherette
came and found me
and said:
your father's with the medics
in the foyer,
he had a choking fit.

Poor guy,
I thought,
him sat there
blue and white,
not having had a ****.
A BOY AND HIS FATHER AT A CINEMA IN 1950S LONDON.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
I found
your Jimi Hendrix
tee shirt, Ole,

while sorting tee shirts
on the hangers
in my wardrobe,

there underneath
them all
it was found at last.

I remember
you wearing it,
remember your body

filling it out,
the Jimi Hendrix image
almost coming to life.  

What tee shirt
you were wearing
that night your heart

stopped the first time around,
I cannot think,
other matters occupy

my mind,
other images fill
my night induced sleep

when sleep comes
finally if at all.
How long

had your heart stopped
before they got it
going again?

Who found you?
3 hours or more or less
after I left

the hospital ward?
I am glad I found
your Hendrix tee shirt;

I hugged it tight,
chocked up a bit,
imagined you

were there inside,
pretended momentarily
you had not died.
A FATHER TALKS TO HIS DEAD SON.
Jul 2014 · 355
WANTING PEACE.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
We saw you
on the sports field
Frumpy
with that boy

at lunch break
a girl said
Elaine tried
to ignore them

pretended
they were annoying
summer flies
or one of ******* fly

that buzzed and buzzed
she had been
on the field
with the boy John again

he seemed
to understand better now
he was still
a little weird

with his talk of birds
and butterflies
and what flowers
they liked best


but it was good
to sit with him
and not have to worry

any more about him
kissing her
as she did
that time before

now he seemed
less keen
or maybe he
was waiting his chance

or maybe seeing
if she wanted to
and she wasn't sure
about kissing

it had been so unexpected
and something stirred
in her as he kissed her
that frightened her

and unsettled her
and she can still remember
the feeling inside
the feelings along

her nerves
she waited outside
the classroom
for the teacher

to come along
the other girls and boys
jostled each other
or whispered

one looked at her
and said
what was he after Frumpy?
did he want a feel?

mild laughter
smiles
she ignored
looked at her shoes

black and scuffed
her mother said
she'd get her
new ones later

she put the toes
of her shoes together
pushed them closer
bet he wanted a touch

of you Frumpy
a girl said
laughter on the air
Elaine stared

at the left shoe
felt her toes push
against the inside
John hadn't touched her

but did he want to?
she hoped not
but what if he did
and what sort of touch?

and where and why?
she pushed her toes
down hard
against the leather

she closed her eyes
hoped the teacher
would be along soon
bet she lets him

touch her
a boy said
he must be desperate
another said

she thought of home
and her bedroom
and the bed
and her doll

waiting for her
and some peace
inside her
14 year old head.
A GIRL IN SCHOOL BEING BULLIED IN 1962
Jul 2014 · 453
MUSING ON YOCHANA.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
The Beethoven piano piece
played on an old
record player

by Miss G
the music teacher
and the class quiet

(or maybe asleep)
but you Yochana
you sat there

engrossed by it
your head moved slightly
your thin shoulders moved

as in a secret embrace
your hands in prayer mode
Reynard sat bored

and eyeing the girls
or drawing inside
his exercise book

rude pictures
I sat half listening
to the Ludwig

other half
watching you Yochana
(being back a few rows)

how slender your body
how the grey cardigan
hugged you tightly

your hair ribboned
green bow
and Reynard whispered

look at titless
how she moves
to this boring crap

bet I could
move her better
Miss G walked

the classroom
arms folded
bespectacled

hair greying
tied in a bun
the brown cardigan

with leather patches
you Yochana
lay your head

on your hands
in meditation
of the piano piece

I viewed you steady
my eyes moved
over you

like an explorer
over new horizons
unexplored seas

O to be within
those arms Yochana
O please.
BOY AND GIRL IN CLASSROOM IN 1962
Jul 2014 · 541
UNSEXUAL RELATIONS.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
It was Friday
a boring morning
of lessons
geography and maths
and some work
on some king
who had lots of wives
and beheaded a few

after lunch
in the spare classroom
assigned as the sandwich room
I went out onto the field
taking in the sunshine
the blue sky
and others about
on the green grass

boys kicking a ball about
girls sitting in groups
giggling or talking
a few in pairs walking along
a boy here and there
with a girl holding hands
(romance stuff)

some girls with skip ropes
or a ball throwing
between each

I saw Yiska
sitting on the grass
with two other girls
in deep conversation
she stood up
when she saw me
and came over

I have read some
of that book
you gave me
she said
don't understand
some of it

we walked away
from the other girls
they watched us
talking no doubt
what don't you understand?
I asked

copulation
she said
what does that mean?

what do you think it means?

she looked back
at the girls
who were looking our way
and talking

don't know
she said
never heard
the word before

it means
having ****** *******
I said quietly

*******?
she said
I understand ******
but *******
seems too scientific

boys shouted
from across the field
someone had scored a goal
between two jackets
on the grass

a relationship
in a ****** way
I said

she stopped
and gazed at me

the book has some pictures
but it's confusing
she said

have you shown
your parents?
I asked

God no
she said
you want to get me
whacked?

just joking
I said

we walked on again
where did you get the book?
she asked

I found it in a drawer
in an old sideboard
at home
I said
it's quite old
think it was my gran's

the words seem hard
to understand
she said
the pictures
in brown and white

yes I noticed
the one about the baby
in the woman's womb
I said

but what
do you have to do?
she asked
to have a baby?

it says
I said

does it?
she asked

yes many times
in different ways
I replied

she sighed
******* is that it?

I nodded
she looked puzzled

so not just kissing?

no not just that

or touching?
she said

not just touching

we came to the fence
and looked
at the passing traffic

that girl in class said
that if you kiss too much
you get pregnant
Yiska said

no not that
I said
where's the book now?

in the cabinet by my bed
she said

will your mother
see it there?

hope not

does she look
through your stuff?

not as far as I know
Yiska said

she leaned in
and kissed me
warm lips on warm lips
her hands around my neck

I put my hands
around her waist
off across the playing field
a bell tolled
from the school

we pulled apart
and walked back
towards school
an odd beating
within
my fourteen year
old heart.
A BOY AND GIRL AT SCHOOL IN 1962.
Jul 2014 · 360
BEFORE CHURCH.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
We got off the bus
and walked up the road
towards the church
Sunday morning
warm sun

Yehudit said
had a problem
getting out in time
this morning
mother wanted
this done and that done
before we could leave
and she knew
we had to get to church
and sing in the choir

thought you looked harassed
I said
why she didn't wait
until after church
for these chores?

because she wanted them
done then and there
it's a power thing

we walked up
the narrow lane
that led to the church
high hedges
birds singing
flying
a car passed
now and then

did she say anything
about you being late
yesterday afternoon?
I asked

no not as such
but I think
she suspected something
and that is why
the hassle today
Yehudit said

it was a good afternoon
I said

yes it was
she said
but it ended too soon

did someone see us?
I asked

don't know
maybe someone did
and she has got
to hear about it
Yehudit said

why didn't she just say?

not her way
of doing things

we reached the church
and walked
around the back
to the door to the vestry
and got dressed
into our choir clothes

I thought about
the afternoon before
the sun above our heads
the still water
of the pond
(she called it our lake)
the ducks
the fish beneath
the surface
the dragonflies
skirting the water's skin

and she and me
laying by the pond
on our backs
describing cloud formations
occasionally kissing
or holding hands

looking out
for strangers or passer-by
(although rare)
and we held
and caressed
and kissed
and got quite hot
and at it
out bodies close

don't forget
the vicar said
to sing out loud and clear

I watched Yehudit
brushing her hair
in front of the mirror
of the cupboard
of clothes

the vicar seemed ready
for the service
and I gazed at Yehudit
she gave a smile
and we went into church
her lovely smile
with me
for quite while.
BOY AND GIRL BEFORE CHURCH IN 1962.
Jul 2014 · 2.0k
LIZBETH'S WORLD.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
Lizbeth stood in front
of the tall mirror
inside her mother's wardrobe  

she was wearing
a short black dress
her hair was tied
in a bun at the back

I stood watching her
uncertain why
we were in her parents' bedroom
and why she was *******
her mother’s clothes
hanging on hangers inside

I looked around the room
a big bed made tidily
a chest of drawers  
a built in cupboard
a picture on the wall
opposite the bed
of some country scene
and above the bed
a huge crucifix
made from wood
with a plaster Christ

look at this one
Lizbeth said

I looked at her hand
taking out a long red dress
she held it up
then put in front of herself
and turned to face me

what do you think?

it's a bit gaudy
I said

shall I try it on?

no I can see
what it would
look like on you
I said

she sniffed it
she must bathe
in **** scent
Lizbeth said

she did a spin
holding the dress
against her
how do I look in it?

she's taller than you
it'll fit her better
I said

not so sure
Lizbeth said
hold this

I held the dress in my hand
she unzipped her black dress
at the back
and pulled the black dress
over her head
and stood there
in a white bra and *******

give it here
she said
and taking the dress
she put it on
her own black dress
was on the floor
here zip me up
at the back
she said

I zipped her up
at the back
watching the straps
of the white bra disappear
as I zipped her up

she turned on the spot
and looked at herself
in the tall mirror

well? how do I look now?

well at least
it's longer
than your own black dress
I said

it came to her ankles
she looked down at it
yes too ****** long
she said
unzip me Benny
she said

I unzipped her
seeing the strap
of the white bra
come back into view

she pulled the dress
over her head
and put it back
on the hanger

she stood there
in bra and *******
how do I look now?

undressed
I said

do you like me
like this?

I feel kind of
uncomfortable
you standing like that
I said

why do you feel
uncomfortable?

what if your parents
come home now
and see you like this
and me here with you
and you in your underclothes?

she smiled
guess they'll feel
uncomfortable then
she said

I picked up her black dress
best out it on
I said

now?

yes now

my parent's bed is over there
all made up and fresh
and waiting for us
she said sexily

I stood holding
the black dress in my hand
where are your parents?

out some place

when will they be back?

don't know

best get your dress on
and out of their room
I said

what about my room?
the bed's smaller
and unmade
and the room's untidy
but we can still
do it there?

I heard voices from downstairs
is that them back?
I said in a low voice

Lizbeth pulled a face
**** me yes
let's get to my room
and so she put
the red dress back
in the wardrobe
and shut it up

and we rushed across
the landing to her room
and shut the door
behind us

I looked around her room
it was as she said
untidy
the bed unmade
books
LPs
soiled washing
over the floor
and the curtains unopened

that was kind of close
she said

yes
I said

downstairs the voices
were loud
and a row seemed
to be going on
but Lizbeth seemed unconcerned
standing there
in her white *******
and bra
holding the black dress
gazing towards
the unmade bed

but I had other problems
swimming around
inside my teenage head.
A BOY AND GIRL IN HER PARENT'S HOUSE IN 1961.
Jul 2014 · 371
HATING MONDAYS.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
Counting off on fingers
with other finger
taking count of days.

Hate Mondays.
Laden with memories.

Machines,
wires,
lights going
blip blip blip,
sounds of this
and that showing
something we
did not understand.

We were there watching,
seeing you,
touching hands,
arms,
whispering words.

Coma had you;
you were sleeping;
we viewed you,
hoping,
expecting your eyes
to open
and that lovely smile.  

In a minute,
we thought,
in a short while.

You never did though.
Just the rise and fall
of your heart ticking
on the machine,
***** being pumped out,
blood checked,
wires here and there.

We stood or sat waiting.
We talked of who
would take turns to stay
while others took time away.

Then it was just me,
sitting,
watching,
others gone for a break.
Then your heart faltered
the machine said.

Your mother and brother came.
We watched,
holding your hands and arms,
talking to you to hold on.
Hoping against hope,
watching you,
the machine,
the light indicated
your heart plummeted
and flat-lined
and you were gone.

Counting off fingers,
with other finger
counting off the days.
I hate Mondays.
A father talks to his dead son.
Jul 2014 · 275
WISHING TO KISS.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
We walked down the lane
from my parent's cottage

it was Saturday morning
I’d got the milk
from the farm

walked across the fields
into the farm milking shed
with my green  
and cream jug

avoided the big
black farm dog
that had bitten me once

had breakfast
and was now walking
with Jane
along the narrow lane

I like that small stream
she said
pointing to the thin
strip of water
moving beside us
along the path
the sound my father says
is the water singing to God
she said

rooks called overhead
from the tall trees
other birds sang nearby
a wren flew from out
of a hedge

God is everywhere
my father says
she added

I found a wren's nest
the other month
I said

you didn't disturb it
did you?
she asked

no just looked
and counted the eggs
and studied them
for a few moments
I said

she smiled
I liked it
when she smiled
it was like Christmas morning
like an opened up present

I see you got
the cows in
from the field
yesterday afternoon
after school
she said
not bad
for a London boy

I like it
and Mr Andrews said
I’ve the making
of a cowman

there you are then
your future mapped out
she said

I don't want
a future mapped out
I said
I want it
to be a surprise

some things
have to be mapped out
she said
can't have a daily
big surprise
all the time
life can get routine
whatever we do

routine is the beginning
of dying
I said

routine is our security
she said
allows us
to feel safe

we stopped in the lane
and looked
at the flowers around us

she named a few
and the butterflies
that stopped on flowers

I looked too
as she named them
trying to remember them
looking at her finger
as it pointed out
the pinky nail
the thin finger
the small hand

when Mr Andrews asked me
what I wanted to do
after I left school
I said to be a cowman
and he said
you want to get yourself
a better job
don't get stuck
on a farm
all your life

it's what you want
Jane said
not what he says
that matters

we walked on down
the lane
her hand just inches
from mine

her grey skirt swishing
as she walked
her muddy boots
avoiding the cow pats

it's what you want
she repeated
that matters

yes I guess so
I said

I wanted to kiss her
but not saying so
just hoping
as we walked
looking for a time
maybe a place to stand
and see what happened
or just to kiss her
on the cheek suddenly
and see what she said
or did
but no
I didn't
I just walked on
thinking it wrong

she unaware
of my thoughts
listened to bird song.
A BOY AND GIRL IN A COUNTRY LANE IN 1961.
Jul 2014 · 5.6k
ANNE'S BODY TALK.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
Anne crutched her way
over the grass
from the nursing home
to the white seats on the lawn
and sat down
in one of the chairs
and threw her crutches
to the ground beside her

I sat in a chair
next to her
she had on a blue skirt
and white blouse
her one leg stuck out
from the end
of her skirt

the other kids played
on the swings and slide
or walked around
avoiding being
near Anne

I wonder
if the nuns have periods?
She said suddenly

I don't know
I said

might explain
their crabbiness some days
she said

I nodded my head
unsure of the topic

periods of what?
I asked

she looked at me
sternly for a moment
you don't know?

I shook my head
gazing at her

it's *******
in real terms
she said

none the wiser
I looked at her
hair dark
and almost shiny
where she’d
brushed it so much

do you know that?

no not heard of it
I said

she sighed
and looked at me deeply

do your parents tell
you nothing?

not about
******* anyway
I said
my old man told me
about the Plague of London
in 1665
and rats and stuff

**** the Plague of 1665
she said
this is real stuff
it may come handy
one day to know

I doubted it
but said nothing
I looked back
at the nursing home
for rescue

do you know anything
about the female cycle?
She said

my friend's sister's cycle
didn't have a cross bar
I said
remembering Jim's sister
and the bicycle
I sometimes rode

no no Kid
not that kind of cycle
her body cycle

I noticed as she moved
on the chair
her leg stump
became visible  

when a female
gets to a certain age
her body gets prepared
to put an egg
in a place in her body
ready to be fertilized
ok?

I saw the stump clearly
it looked like the end
of a plump elbow

Kid do you hear
what I am saying?

Yes
I said

good
now if the egg
doesn't get fertilized
by a certain time
her body gets rid of it
in a cycle
and she bleeds
the whole package out
right?

It didn’t sound too good
but I nodded
what kind of egg?
I asked

what do you mean
what kind of egg?
A ****** human egg
what do you think
a ****** hens' egg?
She sighed deeply

and I wondered where
she bought her one shoe

how old are you Kid?

10 nearly 11 years old
I replied
studying her black shoe  
and wondering
what she did
with the other shoe

what's fertilization?
I asked
looking up at her
sitting in the chair
her eyes focused on me

go ask the nuns
they'll know
she said snappily

ok
I said
I will

she reached for her crutches  
and said
right Kid
let's go to the beach
out of the eyes
of the *******
and their reach

and so I walked
beside her
out the back gate
and onto the path
that led
to the sand and sea
blue skies
white clouds
seagulls
and Anne and me.
A BOY AND GIRL IN A NURSING HOME IN 1950S SEASIDE TOWN.
Jul 2014 · 368
GETTING ENID FED.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
Dennis sat by me
in the playground
we'd swapped cigarette
football cards
and he was seeing
what he had

how can you talk
to that Enid girl?
she stinks
and I’m sure
she has fleas
he said

Enid had stopped
and talked to me
a short time before
she's ok
I said
home life isn't good
what with her old man
and that mother of hers

she still smells though
he said

it's an acquired taste
I said

what's an acquired taste?
he asked

Enid is
once you get to know her
and be with her
she's kind of special
I said

he laughed
you can acquire it
if you want
he said
but to me
she isn't nothing special
just smelly
he sorted through
his cards again

I looked over
the playground
where Enid stood alone
by the far wall
watching girls
play skip rope

the evening before
after tea
I met her
by the entrance
to the flats
the sky getting dark
kids still played
out in the Square

had your tea?
I asked her

my dad said
I wasn't to have any
because I'd not
made my bed properly
Enid said

you haven't eaten?

she shook her head

but I'd seen her old man
go out earlier
to the pub
won't your mother
get you some
now your old man's out?
I asked

no she's frightened of him
Enid said
she thinks he may
come home
and see me eating
and then we'd both
get it

I can get you something
back at my place
I said
my mother'll
get you something

no best not
Enid said
she looked out
at the kids playing
over by the wall

come on with me
I said

where we going?
she asked

chip shop
to get you some chips
and a 7Up
I said

she looked at me
what if he sees me?

he's in the pub
getting plastered
I said
we'll go the other way
he won't see you

she hesitated
but what if he does?

then I’ll say
I dragged you there

she looked out
at the darkening sky
I’ve no money
she said

I have 1/6d
I said
that'll get it

she fiddled
with her fingers
it's getting dark
she said

I don't care if its so dark
you can't see
you're coming
to the chip shop
with me

I took her thin hand
and we walked
through the Square
and down the *****
and along
Rockingham Street

she had her own
kind of scent
an acquired taste
but not bad
but not sweet.
BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON.
Jul 2014 · 294
SHE'S UNDONE.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
You don't think
it's going to happen to you,
she says,
you think it only happens

to other people,
to people out there,
strangers, or friends
whose loved one

has died, and you
are just an on-looker
to their grief;
then it happens to you,

right out of the blue,
like someone
has dragged your heart
right out of your breast

and dangles it there
before your eyes.
She looks at her hands,
turns them over,

stares at her palms.
Other people's grief
is like an echo,
she says,

but your own
is a loud scream within
that vibrates
along your nerves

and in your head
with the words louder
and louder:
they are dead.

She looks out the window,
birds sing in the trees
out there, the sky
is an odd blue,

the sun dull
as if punctured by a pin.
You can sympathise
with another's grief,

but it doesn't really
get to you,
doesn't dig deep
into you and tear out

your inner works;
it may hurt a little,
may tingle along nerves,
may unsettle,

but when it is yours,
when it is your own
deep down
gut wrenching grief,

it's as if someone
has torn you open
and pulled you
to pieces, bit by bit,

day after day,
month after month;
and just when you think,
maybe, the wound

will heal a little,
a word or song
or sight of a photo
or such and it's

back open bleeding
and sore and deep
and you don't weep,
you utter a deep

primitive scream.
She sighs,
looks at me,
her eyes dark,

yet empty,
yet full like a dark
uninviting pool.
I miss him,

she says,
miss him
like a limb
amputated roughly;

like my heart
has been ripped from me
and is held before me
just out of reach.

He was my one,
my reason for being;
now he's gone,
and I am undone.
A WOMAN'S GRIEF EXPRESSED.
Jul 2014 · 1.0k
TALK ON A BOMB SHELTER.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
We sat on top
of the old bomb shelter
on the grass
outside Banks House

evening was creeping in
sky darkening
moon showing
lights on
in the flats
above us

Lydia said
I’ll have to go soon
or my mum'll be
on the  war path
me being out still
and school tomorrow

just a few more minutes
I said

a steam train
went over
the railway bridge
over the way
by the Duke of Wellington pub

I love the smell of trains
she said
if I close my eyes
I think I’m on a train
to Scotland or the seaside

we could go
to Paddington train station
I said
I think trains to Scotland
go from there

Lydia looked at me
do they?

yes I' sure they do
I said

she smiled
could we go there
some day?

what Scotland?
I said

no silly
to Paddington station
she said laughing

sure we can
she looked away
and at the moon
above us
stars were visible

best go
she said
or Mum'll
be after me

ok
but we'll make
Paddington
maybe Saturday?

I'll ask Mum
Lydia said
or maybe Dad
he'll know
which trains
go there

we stood up
and climbed down
the bomb shelter
onto the grass
and walked along
by the flats

and maybe one day
she said suddenly
we can go
to Scotland

sure we will
I said

and she seemed happy
about that
and we climbed
the metal fence
and walked up
the *****
and into the Square
and I walked her
to her front door

she knocked
and her mother
opened the door

you're late
she said sternly

we've been talking
Lydia said softly

her mother looked at me
with her stern eyes

it's late
the moon's out
and there's
school tomorrow

Lydia frowned
and walked in
and her mother
shut the door

I walked off
and up the stairs
to my parent's flat
thinking of Scotland
and Lydia and me
and the sky darkened
like a deep moonlit sea.
BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON.
Jul 2014 · 533
IF YOU HAVE MY HEART.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
If you have my heart,
Then bruise it not.
Rather if it please,
Hold to your breast

And sense its gentle pulse
Or if pleases more,
Against your cheek,
And feel the sad echo

Vibrate along the jaw.
Do not bruise my heart,
But if pleases place to your lips
And kiss with love or wild desire,

Or if pleases more,
Hold in your hands and move around
With curious gaze as if a gem or object rare.
Bruise not my heart,

But let it beat against your own
Until its gentle pulse and yours
Become as one.
A LOVE POEM. WRITTEN 2010.
Jul 2014 · 331
WASH ROOM BLUES.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
I was in the laundry room
sorting through
some old guy's washing

when Chana came in
and closed the door
behind her
with her plump ****

fancy seeing you in here
she said
she had her hair
in a kind of Beehive style
her big blue eyes
were ******* me

got to get this washing on
Sidney gets through
so much in a day
I said

she walked around me
and went to the window
and stared out
at the kitchens
over the way
then turned
and faced me

you look
good enough to eat
she said
especially
your lovely thighs

yes well
I am rather *******
at the moment Chana
but maybe
another time

the washing machine
came to the end
of its cycle
and I took out
the wet washing
and dropped it
in a large white basket
then put in
Sidney's soiled clothes
and put in the soap powder
and closed the door
and pressed the button

can't spare me
a little time?
she said

she was behind me now
and as I turned
she pressed herself
against me
her full bust
was pressed
against my chest

I’ve things to do
I said

she put her hands
around my waist
and hugged me close

I know you have
she said sexily
her breath
eased out
her words
and they floated
on the air

look Chana
I need
to get down to business
George is waiting
for his bathe
and I need
to run the bath for him
I said

you need
to get down to business
with me
she said

she placed her hands
around my thighs
she kissed me
on the lips
my pecker moved
my eyes closed

I opened them
when her hands
touched my ****

not now Chana
go look after
one of the old dames
I’m sure one of them
needs to bathe

O forget them
this is now
they're yesterday

no they need you
I can wait
I said

she released me
disappointedly
and stood gazing
at me

don't forget
to come around tonight
she said
and bring
a bottle of *****

sure
I said
going out the door
I’ve nothing else
to do or lose.
MAN AND WOMAN IN A NURSING HOME WASH ROOM IN 1973.
Jul 2014 · 381
DON'T MIND THE MUTT.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
Don't mind the mutt
Batel said
he's always barking
I moved into her flat

and closed the door
after me
the dog
was in the kitchen

barking through a wooden gate
I followed Batel
into her lounge
and she sat down

on a white sofa
and tapped it
for me
to sit down too

the mutt stopped barking
but whined
don't worry about the mutt
the worse he'll do

is licked you silly
she said
I looked about the room  
coffee table

a sideboard
a dresser
a record player
and TV

and an armchair
tucked over
in a corner
and a few paintings

on the walls
or prints of paintings
what are you
having to drink?

She asked
what you got?
beer whiskey *****?
beer will be fine

I said
she got up
from the sofa
and went to the sideboard

and took out
a can of beer
and poured herself
a gin in a tall glass

and came back
to the sofa
and sat down
offering me the can

and sipped her gin
I ripped off the tab
and sipped
the warm beer

my husband's
on a long run today
won't be back
until late

she said
she crossed her legs
the short skirt
got shorter

her thighs got longer
he won't like it
me being here
I said

he doesn't know
she said
he might find out
she smiled

and sipped her glass
all he'll know is
that you came over
he won't mind

after all
you play chess with him
some evenings
she said

don't seem right
me here
sitting next to you
drinking his beer

while he's out there
driving in the long haul
you can always leave
she said

if your conscience
is eating at you
I sipped more beer
she leaned up close to me

her lips brushing my arm
setting me a tingling
my pecker stirred
my body warmed

so who are the paintings by?
I asked
don't know
he bought them

at some cheap sale
pretends he knows art
when he don't know
cat's ***

she sipped her gin
put a hand on my thigh
the pecker lifted
its head

like a blind snake
in a dark room
I mouthed more beer
eyeing her hand

moving up my leg
you got to be
any place?
she asked

I shook my head
and gulped down
the beer
no

no particular place to go
I said
my bed or here?
she said

I like the painting
of the seascape
I said
her hand

unzipped my fly
and the pecker
was building up big
her fingers

introduced themselves
kind of friendly like
I lay back
and closed my eyes

imaging palm trees
greeny sea and blue skies.
A MAN AND WOMAN AND PROMISES IN 1971.
Jul 2014 · 585
AFTER TEA WALK.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
We walked down
Deacon Way
(had to get her away
from her home

and her old man
and his Bible bashing)
it was after school
and tea

and the sky was blue
but becoming grey
she tied her long
blonde hair

into a pony tail
with a red ribbon
but what will
my father say

when he finds
that I’ve gone out?
Fay said
say you needed the air

say the nuns said
you had to appreciate
the evening air
that God made

I said
he knows the nuns
will not have
said that

he keeps in touch
what they say
and how
I am behaving

at school
she said
and how do you
behave at school?

I asked
I do my best to be good
she said
but they are so picky

you have not said
your Pater Noster
with due reference
or you have said

the Ave too quickly  
who's the Pater Noster?
I asked
the Lord's Prayer

she said
and the Ave
is the Hail Mary
I see

I said
although I didn't see
we came back
to the New Kent Road

and stood
by the hairdressers
on the corner
where now?

she asked
I ought to get back
Father will be looking
over the balcony for me

how about a bag of chips?
I said
Father says chips
are bad for you

make you fat
she said
but they're good
fill you up

if you're hungry
I said
best not
she said

I must go back
he'll get so angry
ok
I said

so we crossed the road
and walked down
Meadow Row
she looked anxious

I looked at her
sideways on
her blue eyes
blonde hair

and that look
in her features
of sad despair.
BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON
Jun 2014 · 401
IT RAINED.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
It rained
and Janice and I
stood under
the railway bridge

in Arch Street
with the coal wharf
on the left
the bomb site

on the right
the cobbled road
shining with the rainfall
horse drawn

coal wagons waiting
for the sacks
to be filled
a weak sun overhead

how long
will it last?
Janice asked
don't know

I said
looks like it's here
for a while
she looked up

at the darkening sky
Gran will be angry
if I’m late for lunch
she said

you have a choice
I said
go and get wet
but be on time

for lunch
but then Gran
will be angry
if I get my clothes wet

she said
well there you go
I said
what do you want

to get told off
for getting wet
or being late?
Janice ******* up

her nose
and put out a hand
to feel how
wet it was

it's quite heavy
she said
what shall I do?
either way

you'll get scolded
I said
she stood
with her hands

enfolding her arms
as if she were cold
I could come with you
I said

and explain
to your gran
Janice looked uncertain
what will your mother say

if you're late for lunch
or if you get wet?
she asked
nothing much

she’s used to me
getting wet
or being late
I said

the rain
came down harder
the sky got darker
the horses

on the wagons
became unsettled
let's go
I said

let's run
let's see
what happens
and so I took

her hand
and we ran out
into the pouring rain
through puddles

of water
over the cobbles
the rain soaking
into our clothes

and hair
her hand
still in mine
damp and slippery

getting
wet wet wet
I thinking
of what's for lunch?

and she thinking
of getting scolded
or spanked
I bet.
A BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON
Jun 2014 · 430
SOME TIMES MY SON.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Sometimes,
my son,
I just want
to be numb;
I want to wake
to bird song
and fresh morning air,
not human voice,
not the distant traffic's hum.

Sometimes,
my son,
I want the numbness
to envelope me,
to swallow me whole,
to keep out
the hurt and pain,
the breaking up
of heart
and ache of head,
pretending
you're not dead.

The numbness,
my son,
how it seems
to put things
in perspective,
allows the past
to dissolve
into a vague series
of images,
hoping to be lost,
forgetting the cost.

Sometimes, Ole,
I want to be numb,
need the feelings to go,
the pain to ease,
the last words
to freeze.

Only the drugged
sleep aids,
my son,
only the dreamless sleep
like sister death,
helps me
for a few hours
to unwind
the inner clock's
wound up spring.

Sometimes,
my son,
the drugs don't work,
the pain remains,
and I don't want the drink
to take hold again
to numb the pain.

Sometimes,
my son,
I just want
a numbness to ease,
the words be
temporally forgotten,
the visions seen,
packed away
for another day,
when I feel stronger,
when the loss of you,
hurts less(if ever),
and the night to day
questions come less
or do so no longer.

Some days,
my son,
I just want
to be numb.
A FATHER TALKS TO HIS DEAD SON.
Jun 2014 · 328
BATEL AND SHIRT SLEEVES.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Batel was showing me
how to fold up
my shirt sleeves
although I knew how

I liked her fingers
touching my arm
her eyes searching me
as she did it

got it?
she asked
sure it looks easy
when you do it

she walked off smiling
and I watched her
wiggling backside
move away

I carried on
with my work
at the nursing home
making beds

tidying up
the rooms
taking some
of the old guys

to the lavatory
or for a bath
or talking with them
about the old days

about their war
trenches
bombs
dead friends

mud
lice
and old Sidney
singing the Red Flag

loudly as he bathed
his croaky voice
very moving
and I sang along

to make him happy
but it was Batel
who came to me later
and said

how's the shirt sleeves?
they’ve come down again
I said
shall I do them

again for you?
that'd be good
you are flirting
she said smiling

I’m working
I said
yes
on me

she said
as if I would
I said
she folded up

my shirt sleeves
and I sensed her fingers
on my skin
maybe you could

come to my place
she said
for a coffee sometime?
you're married

I said
I’m asking to coffee
not to marry me
she said

ok
I said
be good
and she went off

wiggling that backside
of hers
Hey Benny
old George

called to me
take me to the bog
I'm in need
of a ****

ok George
I’m on my way
and I thinking of Batel
and a promise of a kiss.
A YOUNG MAN AND A WOMAN AND HIS SHIRT SLEEVES IN 1971
Jun 2014 · 650
AFTER SCHOOL TALK.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
I saw her outside school
by the steps
leading down
from the classrooms

her eyes were red
behind her thick
lens glasses
her plaited hair

was untidy
she held
a grey/white handkerchief
what's up?

I asked
she shrugged her shoulders
and walked away
from the school

her satchel over her shoulder
along Colnbrook Street
what's up Helen?
I was beside her now

and tried to get
her to talk
(not usually a job)
we came out

on St George's Road
she dawdling along
her handkerchief
to her eyes

some one upset you?
One of the teacher' tell you off?
some boys called me
an ugly four eyed clown

she said
who were they?
I said
don't matter

she said
they said it
we walked along
in silence a while

I tried to think
who would have
upset her
who'd say that

to her
want an ice cream?
I asked
as we came

to a grocer shop
haven't any money
she said tearfully
I have

what do you want?
We went in the shop
and she chose
from a list

by the ice cream counter
I gave the store minder
the coins
and we walked

out of the shop
with our ice creams
thank you
she said

that’s' all right
I said
so who upset you?
that Cogan boy

and another boy
she said
I’ll button his lip
I said

he's always trying
to upset kids
anyway he can't talk
he wears glasses too

I know because
he had to take them off
the last time
we fought

after school
am I ugly?
She asked
you're pretty

I said  
you've the loveliest eyes
I’ve seen
she smiled

and we walked on
towards the Elephant and Castle
I thinking
of jam sandwiches

for tea
and she maybe
thinking
of kissing me.
BOY AND GIRL IN LONDON IN 1950S
Jun 2014 · 682
NETANYA'S MOOD.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
I was sitting outside
the caravan
we'd been let

by some
do-gooders society
some one Netanya knew

who knew some one
I was lazying
in a deck chair

smoking
and sipping a beer
looking into the area

around the caravan
where other caravans
were parked

behind us
over the hedge
and road

was the beach
I could hear the sound
of the sea

and smell the salt
who you looking at?
Netanya asked

you looking at her?
Huh?
You looking at her

over there
by the caravan
hanging out

her smalls?
What you talking about?
I'm sitting here

having a smoke
sipping a beer
I said

you are gazing
at the *****
in the short skirt

with her *******
hanging out
like squirrels

out of a tree
I’m sitting here resting
I didn't see her

until you
picked her out
Netanya spat

on the grass
my *** you didn't
I’ve a good mind

to go over there
and give her
a piece of my mind

I was looking around
the site not at her
I said

Netanya's kids
had gone down
to the beach

to swim and play ball
Netanya gave the female
over the way

a glare
if I see you
looking at her again

I’ll tear her hair out
and stuff that cigarette
down your throat

Netanya went inside
the caravan
and banged about

with pots and pans
and cups and mugs
I sipped my beer

and smoked my smoke
the female
with the short skirt  

hung up her bras
like huge slingshots
I looked away

it was a hot
liquid blue
of a sky day.
A MAN AND WOMAN AND THE DAME BY THE CARAVAN WITH THE SHORT SKIRT IN 1976.
Jun 2014 · 590
DALYA IN OSLO.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
We woke up in Oslo;
the sunlight seen
through the slit
when the zip
of the tent was opened.

I breathed in the air
trying to get through
the mustiness of bodies
and stale night air.

How did you sleep?
Dalya asked.

Disturbed mostly.

Why?

Well you were there
and and I was over here,
and you slept so peacefully,
your breathing so regular,
so neat.

She looked around at me
from the zip
and said,
how did that disturb you?

I was wake
and couldn't sleep
and seeing you sleeping
disturbed me.

Why couldn't you sleep?

Too much *****,
too much heavy food,
I don't know,
just couldn't get off.

You oughtn't
to be here anyway,
she said,
if the Yank girl
hadn't gone off
into your tent
with the Aussie guy
to do whatever,
you would be there
with him.

What was I to do
sleep out
in the cold night air?
I would have caught
pneumonia or such.

It shocked the ****
out of me
seeing you there
in my tent
when I woke this morning,
Dalya said.

Then I realized
the Yank prat
wasn't here
and put one
and one together.

Don't make a habit of this.

Well, you tell her
to keep out of my tent
and I’ll tell the Aussie
to have his *** elsewhere,
I said.

I'm going for a shower,
she said,
I’ll call out to her
to get out of your tent
on the way
and then you can get
your gear
to shower and dress.

She went out the tent
with her towel
and changed of clothing.

I lay there
in yesterday's clothes,
feeling yuk and tired,
gazing at the scenery
through the slit
of the zip area.

When I entered her tent
the night before
she was asleep,
so I crept to the other side
of the tent and slept
on top of the sleeping bag
of the Yank girl,
only I didn't sleep
too well,
but I watched Dalya,
the sleeping beauty,
sleeping
in her sleeping bag
zipped up and tidy
and blew a kiss
from my palm
which touched
her shoulder.

I always smiled
at that
as I got older.
A BOY AND GIRL CAMPING THROUGH EUROPE IN 1974 AND AT OSLO.
Jun 2014 · 552
SONYA AND PARIS.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Sonya loved Paris
loved the cafés
the streets
the Tower

the people
the ideas
the artists  
and we stood on a bridge

looking
at the river below
she dressed
in that pink dress

with patterns
her blonde hair
in a pony tail
her blue eyes

drinking in
the scene  
we'd just been
to the art gallery

and studied
the Impressionist painters
Monet is my favourite
she said

I could drink him in
all day
the way he paints
soothes me

and at the same time
stirs me up
I was dressed
in pink flared trousers

and white
open necked shirt
with the sleeves
rolled up

I like Van Gogh best
I said
his passion touches me
we moved off the bridge

looking for a café
for a coffee
Vincent drove himself mad
with his search

for truth
she said
too uptight for me
too deep and dark

we found a café
and sat outside
and ordered two coffees
we lit cigarettes

and smoked
and talked more
she about Kierkegaard
the philosopher

and Either/Or
I sat watching her
taking in her hair
the way

she moved her jaw
as she talked
the fine lips
her eyes

that Vincent
would have loved
and how
the night before

we lay in bed
looking out the open window
at the Parisian sky
and the moon

and us and ***
and wanted then
to be back there
all too soon.
MAN AND WOMAN IN PARIS IN 1973
Jun 2014 · 570
BOOKS AND BEER.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
What are you reading?
Atara asked.

Book on Schopenhauer,
I said.

Dull reading.

Depends on what you like.

She sipped her coke,
her eyes studying
the cover of the book.
Is that him?

Yes, old photograph.

She looked at me.
Why do you read
such dull books?

Maybe I'm a dull guy.

She smiled.
Not last night.

I closed the book
and laid it
on the table.
I sipped my beer.

Does he talk
about ***?
She asked.

Not that I’ve read
so far.

If a book doesn't mention ***
it isn't worth reading.

Maybe I should read Freud.

Why read?

I looked at the waiter
passing the table,
his clipped moustache,
his deep eyes.  

You read,
I said,
not heavy stuff,
but you do read.

I like my books
like I like my men:
not too deep and fun.

I said nothing
about my books
and women.

She didn't have
the depth
and she taught me
nothing,
although
that session
in the bathroom
had insight.

The way she had it
right down
to a fine art,
the subtleness
of her limbs,
her gyrations,
her lips and tongue.

What now?
She asked.
I fancy a walk
on the beach,
catch some sun.

You go,
I said,
I want to chill out
with a cold beer
and watch life go by.

She pulled a face sulkily,
but went off,
her hips doing
that thing they did
when she was annoyed.

I watched her go,
sipped the beer,
icy cold
like I enjoyed.
BOY AND GIRL IN YUGOSLAVIA IN 1972.
Jun 2014 · 422
DAWN MUSING.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Yiska gobbed
on the window pane
in the locked ward.

I stood next to her
and gazed out
the window.

Snow was on the fields
and on the tops of trees.

She smelt
of carbolic soap.

The spittle dripped down
the glass pane.  

Couldn't sleep,
Yiska said.

Bad dream?

Each day
is a bad dream.

A rook disturbed snow
on a tree top.

What doesn't **** us,
I said.

Turns us mad,
she said.

Makes us stronger,
I read some place.

Are we stronger?

Slow snow flakes
drifted by the window.

She wiped the spittle
with the sleeve
of her long
purple night gown.

I don't dream
of him any more,
she said,
don't dream
of the ****.

The word hung
in the air about us
like an angry bee.

What do you
dream about?
I asked.

The church,
the altar, people
watching me
in my white dress,
but not of him.

Has your mind
shut him out?

Hope so.

The snow fell harder.
Black birds
took flight
into the grey dawn.

What do you
dream about?
She asked.

A bell rope,
a tower,
ticking clock.

She sighed.
Her small ****
seemed stiff
in the dawn light.

Have you stopped
slitting your wrist?

So far.

That hanging attempt
had those nurses
******* themselves
with panic.

I recalled the face
of a nurse
mouthing words
through the small panel
of glass that evening.

Someone
turned on the radio.

The night nurse
gazed at us
by the window.

We saw her reflected
in the window
as if in a mirror.

Plump in her uniform,
her dark hair
tied in a bun.

Yiska moved away
leaving her carbolic perfume
on the air like
a disturbed memory.

I just continued
to vacantly stare.
A BOY AND GIRL IN A LOCKED WARD OF A MENTAL HOSPITAL IN 1971.
Jun 2014 · 380
MIRIAM AT THE CLUB HOUSE.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
At the clubhouse‭
in Malaga‭
in the base camp‭

I danced and drank‭
in turn‭
sometimes‭
at the same time‭
sometimes I sat it out‭
at the bar‭
and smoked and drank‭
with Miriam‭

you dance good‭
she said‭

you reckon so‭
I said‭

yes you dance ok‭
she said‭
she sipped‭
her gin and tonic‭
and looked‭
around the club house‭

the disco music‭
is a bit old hat‭
she said‭

it's ok‭
at least‭
you can‭ ‬dance to it‭
I said‭

we sipped more‭
of our drink‭s
and sat in silence‭
for a few moments‭

Picasso was born here‭
she said‭

what here‭
in this club house‭?
I said smiling‭

no here in Malaga‭
she said‭
read it some place‭
I don't like his art‭
she said‭
makes me want‭
to throw up‭

you sure it's not‭
the *****‭?
I said‭

no I mean‭
when I see it‭
she said‭

I love his art‭
it speaks volumes to me‭
I said‭

poor you‭
she said‭
I see nothing in it‭

each to their own‭
view of things‭
I said‭
Picasso touches me‭

don't I touch you‭?
she said‭
wouldn't you rather‭
be touched by me‭
than Picasso‭?

depends on the touching‭
I said‭
he touches my soul‭
where would you touch‭?

she giggled‭
and sipped her drink‭
be telling wouldn't it‭?
you didn't complain‭
the last time‭
I touched or rather‭
we touched‭

she looked back‭
at the dance floor‭
and at people dancing‭
not my fault‭
if the tent‭
was too small‭
for much action‭
she added‭
looking back at me‭

small is beautiful‭
sometimes‭
I said

she gazed at me‭
with her bluey green eyes‭
her hair in tight curls‭
I’d let you come‭
to my tent tonight‭
she said‭
but that fussy cat girl‭
is sharing with me‭
always yakking‭
about her cats at home‭
as if I cared‭
what she calls‭
her **** cats‭
and what she does‭
with them‭
what about your tent‭?
she asked‭

no I got the ex-army guy‭
in with me‭
and he talks on and on‭
about his family‭
and how they don't‭
understand him‭
and how he got‭
chucked out the army‭
and so on‭

a‭ ‬Beatles song‭
was playing‭
I got up to go dance again‭

and she said‭
go dance Benny‭
go show them‭
how its done‭
she leaned on the bar‭
her eyes closing‭

I danced‭
drinking the dregs‭
thinking of the last time‭
I lay‭
between her legs.‭
BOY AND GIRL IN SPAIN IN 1970.
Jun 2014 · 977
WHAT KAFKA MISSED.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
I would have loved
to have had ***
with Kafka
Nima said
something about him
the photo of him

I sat opposite her
in the café
in Charing Cross Road
she had a coke
I sipped coffee

I feel the same
about Marilyn Monroe
I said
love to have got
her in bed

Nima looked at me
disdainfully
you would
she said

not necessarily
for ***
I said
just to listen
to her voice
sense her being there
the scent of her

Nima shook her head
ok I’d listen to Kafka
and sense
his being there
but *******
his **** off
at the same time
she said

an old guy
on the other side
of the café
gave her a look

have you read
any of his books?
I asked

some
she said
the one where he turns
into a big beetle

actually it doesn't say beetle
in the book
it says gigantic vermin
which people has interpreted
as a beetle or bug
I said

she sipped her coke
it's his body
I want to go to bed
with not his book
she said

he's dead
I said
died in 1924

shame
she said
he doesn’t know
what he's
missed out on

I guess he did
I said

she smiled
have to be satisfied
with his books then
won't I

we drained our drinks
and went on our way
I went to Dobell's
Jazz Record shop
and bought
a Coltrane LP

then we walked
to the train station
where she got a train
to the hospital
where she was being treated
for her drug addiction

I went home to play
my Coltrane
on my record player
via another train
thinking of her
and Kafka
and me and Monroe
having ***
in that cheap hotel
off Trafalgar Square
where Nima and I
once had *** there.
A BOY AND GIRL IN LONDON IN 1967 AND WILD IDEAS.
Jun 2014 · 422
NEW HENDRIX TEE SHIRT.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Where now, my son?
Have they laid you
amongst the dead?
Or are you seeing
another kind of being?

I try to remember
our last conversation,
the words exchanged,
but they are elusive
like exhaled breath
in a winter's sky.

I look for you
as I turn my head,
the familiar places,
the passage way,
the hall,
the sitting room,
the chair
by the window
most of all,

but no matter
how hard I stare,
you're not there,
least not
that I can see,
although despite
my not seeing,
you may well be.

We couldn't find
your Jimi Hendrix
tee shirt,
the one
you used to wear,
despite us looking
everywhere.

Maybe that's the one
you wore that final night,
the one they cut away
to restart
your flat lined heart?

My loves have bought me
another Jimi Hendrix
tee shirt
to remember you
and keep you
close and near.

That was good of them;
wasn't it my dear?
A FATHER TALKS TO HIS DEAD SON.
Jun 2014 · 278
COME OVER.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Come over any time
Mrs Debit said
and don't mind
if David's not here

I’m sure
I can get you
something to eat
or such

ok
I said
walking back
down her drive

wondering what happened
to David
but she said
he was out

so I couldn't stay
that time
but she sure had
a nice manner with her

I thought
stopping at the bottom
of her drive
looking back

at the house
she waved at me
and I waved back
David said

go around the back
if there's no answer
from the front door
and so I did

and there
was Mrs Debit
in her lilac
or such colour bikini  

laying there
in the back yard
by the pool
O sorry

I said
thought David was here
he said to come
around back

she sat up
and gazed at me
for a moment or two
O

she said
you must be Benny?
yes that's right
I said

David said
to come around
he was going
to show me his

collection of Elvis records
she smiled
and got up
and walked over to me

O he's had to go out
on an errand for me
and won't be back
until late

she said
I could smell her perfume
from where I stood
or was it sun oil?

I couldn’t decide
you can stay for a bit
if you want
she said

I can get you
something cold
or cool
no I’m ok

I said
backing off a little
finding her figure
kind of warming

maybe I’ll comeback
another time
I said
ok

she said
I was reading
and sort of snoozed off
I nodded

and saw the book
and red hat
by the pool  
you stay can

if you wish
she said
if you have swimming gear
you can swim

in the pool
I’m sure I have
a pair of David’s trunks
around some place

no I’m ok
must get back
I said
another time maybe

she said smiling
sure
I said
I'd love that

she closed
the front door
and was gone
I walked back

on home
carrying the image
of her in my head
come over

any time
she had said.
A YOUTH VISITS A FRIEND HOUSE AND FINDS HIS FRIEND'S MOTHER HOME.
Jun 2014 · 507
MILKA WANTED.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Milka  wanted
to have ***
in the hay barn

but she feared
the rats and mice
or her father

finding out
and tanning
her backside

the colour
of sunset
so we went

to the cinema
and saw Elvis
with jangling guitar

and swinging hips
and after
we went  

to the park
and sat
on a bench

and watched
the ducks swim
but the hay barn

would have been better
despite the rats
or mice

or the tanned
backside
the colour

of sunset
she said
I bet.
A BOY AND GIRL AND A CHOICE MADE IN 1964.
Jun 2014 · 314
BY THE LAKE.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Judy was in the store
and I found her at the back
filling shelves
and I said

how's it going?
and she said
O so so
not like it was

at school
there
you could have a laugh
here everyone is

O got to keep
the customers happy
got to keep them
coming back

she placed the last
of the tins
on the shelf
and paused

you still get
to sit by our lake?
she said
now and then

I said
not as often
as we did
but I have to work

now too
and time gets eaten up
by the work time
you remember that time

we sneaked there
after school
and it was summer evening
and we sat there

watching the sun go down
through the trees
like a departing actor
after a big scene?

she said
sure I do
I said
and the shadows of birds

going off to sleep
and bats
she said
O how I hated

those things
beginning to flap
about over head
and that time

you kissed my neck
so unexpectedly
that I screamed
and it echoed right

through the woods
like I was being murdered
she smiled
and looked around the store

don’t have a laugh any more
it's all so serious here
the staff
the customers

just wish
it was as it was
maybe we
should meet up again

one evening
by the lake
and see the sunset
as we once did

I said
the store manager
came by
and said something to her

and she picked up
some other tins
and began filling
another self

what's he say?
I asked
the *** said
I wasn't

to waste company time
in idle chitchat
anyway
she said

I'd like to get
to the lake one evening
as we used to
maybe Thursday evening

I looked at her hands
holding the tins
how I once held them
and kissed the fingers

one by one
sure
I said
that will be good

we agreed a time and date
and I left her there
giving the manager
a cool eyed stare.
A BOY AND GIRL IN A STORE IN 1963.
Jun 2014 · 457
YOCHANA AS WAS.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Yochana-
my bird thin,
dark haired,

Schubert loving,
once kissed
now shy, girl;

see how time
has sped
by us both.

How many stars
have burnt out
in that time and space?  

I dreamed of you
at one time,
tucked you away

in my dreams box,
placed you
at the bottom

of my mind's depth.
A photo of the old school
reminded me of you,

the background,
the playing field,
the other kids older

like you and me,
just before
the Beatles' first LP.

Yochana-
with whom
did you share your life?

Who touched your body?
Shared your lips,
sat with you

at the Schubert recitals?
I remember you
in front in class,

your head to one side
as the teacher played
that Schubert piece,

your thin frame,
narrow waist,
you titless,

Reynard said,
of you, he spoke.
I saw how

your hands moved
to the music's flow,
the fragile fingers

mock playing
on the desktop.
Reynard considered

the colour
of your underwear,
I studied you,

your far away,
music tranced stare.
Yochana-

where are you now?
In whose bed
did you lay?

Whose arms
embraced you?
Who fingers searched

you out and on?  
I recall
your bird-thin frame,

wiry arms,
the dark hair
the length

of your back;
how the Schumann piece
had you spaced out

in dream mode,
your eyes closed,
and I –

Benny,
watching you,
you,

unaware of me,
giving you
the desiring stare.
MAN RECALLING A GIRL OF HIS SCHOOL DAYS
Jun 2014 · 365
WHAT YISKA THOUGHT.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Yiska's brother
said she wanted to see me
and so I met her
by the science lab

after midday recess
along by the side
of the playing field
she stood there

arms folded
uneasy
looking down
at the grass

your brother said
you wanted to see me
what's the problem?
one of the girls in class

said that you can get pregnant
if you kiss some one
too passionately
and we did

the other day
and now I’m scared
in case I’m pregnant
she said

in a rush of words
I looked back
at the playing field
Rolland was starting

the ball game
with other boys
some girls
were playing tag in the field

why did the girl say that?
I said
she saw us kissing
the other day

and said
I’d get pregnant
expert is she?
I said

Yiska looked at me deeply
I don't know
I didn't ask
she said

how far have you got
in biology?
I said
what do you mean?

how far have you gone
in human reproduction?
I said
haven't got that far

still doing about frogs
and tadpoles
she said
I sighed

and took her hand  
and we walked
behind the science lab
out of sight of eyes

you have to do more
than kiss to get pregnant
I said
she looked at me unsure

what do you have to do?
she said
nothing we've done
I said

I took in
her bright eyes
her lips just parted
showing her white teeth

the tip of tongue
but what then?
she said
ask your parents

I said
O sure
Yiska said
Mum

how does a girl
get herself pregnant?
is it kissing
or is there something else?

I'm sure she’ll tell me
if she doesn't whack me
in one of her dark moods
Yiska had her hair brushed

just so
neat
and her hand was warm
in mine

you tell me
if you know
she said
I walked her along more

by the science lab
bushes were up
on the bank
behind us

birds sang
I whispered to her
what I knew
she stood back

and gazed at me
are you sure
that's right?
she said

sure it is
I read about it
in this book
she blushed

and took
my hand again
and kissed me
can I read that book?

she said
sure I’ll bring it in
I said
she looked at me

her features bright
and becoming red.
BOY AND GIRL AT SCHOOL IN 1962 AND THOUGHTS MISTAKEN.
Jun 2014 · 249
INTO THE RAIN.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
We stopped in the porch
of the church
as the others had
gone into the church
for choir practice

the moon was bright
stars sprinkled
we were shadowy
in the porch
light and darkness

Yehudit was breathing heavy
sounding out of breath
not often we get
to be alone
she said

no guess not
I said

she looked out
at the moon
hearing the voices
of the others
becoming distant

you do love me
don't you?
she said
looking back at me

sure I do
I said

do you mean it?
she asked

of course I do
wouldn't say it
otherwise
I said

she looked at me
her eyes
were half hidden
in the semi dark

you seem to avoid me
at school
she said
even in class
you seldom
look my way

I pondered
on her words
she was right
I didn't peer
in her direction
in class
or seek her
out much at school
unless we were on
the sports field
if the weather was good

I’m with Rolland a lot
we have a laugh
can't get
into this romance thing
in class
anyway you're one side
of the class
and I’m the other

but you could
still look at me
and smile
when I do
she said

I do smile

not often
not enough

I blew you a kiss
the other day
I said

I missed that

you turned your head
at the wrong minute
it hit the back
of your head

I feel neglected
she said
I loved you
the first time
I saw you that day
you started at our school
I loved you
from the first moment

I gazed
at the showy outline
of her hair
untidy as usual
her breath
like shallow smoke
in the air
I noticed
I said
your eyes seldom
left that first day

do you love me?
she said

sure I do
I said

there were voices
coming from the church
singing had begun

we're going to be late
I said

kiss me

I kissed her
we hugged
we kissed again
then taking my hand
she pulled me
into the evening
and into the rain.
A BOY AND GIRL BEFORE CHOIR PRACTICE IN 1962.
Jun 2014 · 389
SPOIL HER FUN.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Lizbeth insisted
on us going
to the small church again

we walked
as she had parked
her bike
by the shed door
at the back
of the cottage

it seems longer
when you walk it
she said

same length
different speed
I said

she'd put on
her short black dress
for some reason
not fitting
for this kind
of countryside
her shoes had mud
on them already
where a tractor
had deposited it
all along
the narrow road

don't you have
buses here?
she asked

once a week
I said
Saturdays
2 hours
to do your shopping
in town
then back

2 hours?
she said
I need longer
than that to shop

that's all there is
I said

I hate the countryside
she said
the smell
the quiet
the emptiness
the silly blue sky
and those puffy
white clouds
she seemed annoyed
Benny
how do you stick it?

it's ok
I like it
it has a sense
of peace here
and there are birds
to study and butterflies

O my god
Lizbeth said
I’d die
of boredom here
you'd find me stiff
in some corn field
or whatever ****
grows in these fields

we walked on
in a uneasy silence
for a while

what's she like?
Lizbeth said

who?
I asked

that girl
who lives near you
the girl with
the long straight black hair
and a face like a ******

I knew who she meant
but I said nothing
but pretended
not to know
she lives near me?
I said

yes
well she gets on
your school van
in the mornings
and afternoons
always dresses
like she's going
to a funeral
I see her
in the girl's playground
little Miss No Mates

O you mean Jane
I said
she's good
we have long walks together
and she knows a lot
about nature and birds
and butterflies and beetles
and so on

you walk with her?
Lizbeth said

sure
we often go for walks
when its fine and warm

what do you do?
is she up for it?

up for what?

you know
***?
Lizbeth spat out
the last word
as if
it were too hot
for her tongue

we don't think
about that
kind of thing
I said

Lizbeth looked at me
with raised eyebrows
thought not
she said

we walked up
the narrow lane
to the church
sunlight warming
our heads and backs

if the church is empty
maybe we can
she said

can what?
I said

you know
have S E X

I looked
at the church
appearing above
the hedgerow
and hoped to God
someone was there
some visitor
or vicar
or anyone
to save my day
and stop her fun.
A COUNTRY BOY AND TOWN GIRL IN THE COUNTRYSIDE IN 1961.
Jun 2014 · 310
SUMMER SKIES.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
We lay in the long grass
summery flies
bees

butterflies
Jane named them
one by one  

I lay
watching her finger move
pointing them out

cotton wool clouds
water colour
blue sky

the best scene
my father says
the sky

above our heads
she said
he says some painters

study skies
to soak them up
into the art

I watched
as her hand turned
palm towards me

the headline
heart line
then down

beside her
in the long grass
out of sight

London skies
were pretty much
grey with smoke

or ***** blue
like soiled linen
I said

you must be glad
to be out
of London now

she said
looking at me
her dark eyes

lit up
like black olives
in cream

yes I am now
after this
I said

not saying
how her presence
made it more so

I love this
she said
this air

this scene
these butterflies
us being here

her fingers
reached out for mine
in the grass

fingertips touching
a Gatekeeper
she said suddenly

her finger pointing
skyward
as a butterfly

touched
the water colour
blue sky.
A BOY AND GIRL IN A COUNTRY FIELD IN 1961.
Jun 2014 · 331
THE DAY AFTER.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
It was the day after
I’d been to London
on a protest march
and Netanya said

I want you
to come
to my place
this afternoon

as I want to talk to you
my husband will be out
I was hesitant
not out

of any moral quandary
or in case
her husband found out
or that her kids

might come home
from school early
but because
I usually liked

to chill out
in the afternoon's
with a glass of scotch
and listen to Mahler

but I said
ok what time?
any time after 1pm
he's gone by then

she said
so forsaking
my scotch and Mahler
I walked around

to her place
and she let me
into her lounge
and offered me

tea or coffee
I took the coffee
and we sat on her sofa
and she talked

and I listened
then she took hold
of my pecker
and said

we could have ***
no one is here
no one need know
my pecker woke

from its slumbers
reluctantly
and lay
like a grumpy sailor

after a long voyage
not just now
I said
it wouldn't be right

besides daylight
isn't my best time
she looked at me
with her disappointed eyes

her hand
still holding the pecker
why not?
she said

what if your old guy
comes in
and we're going it some?
he won't

he never
comes home early
too keen on the skirts
at work

what if your kids
come home from school
and find me and you
in the process?

we'll be done by then
she said
I shook my head
and she went

to the record player
and put on
a Dolly Parton LP
and sat beside me again

my pecker still lay
slumped unhappily
another time maybe?
she said

sure
I said
only not here
not in your house

or bed
it doesn't seem right
she pulled
a face of discontent

where then?
your place?
no way
my mother

wouldn't like it
I said
where then?
Netanya said

London?
I said
London?
she repeated

go to London for ***?
we can take in a show
and find a cheap hotel
and tell your old man

you're going to London
with a friend
to see some show
and it will give you cover

she sighed
and sipped her coffee
I sipped mine too and gazed
at this middle-aged lover.
A YOUNG MAN AND AN OLDER WOMAN AND THE PROMISE OF ***.
Jun 2014 · 379
POST TERCE.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Black robed,‭
the monk pauses‭
in the cloister-‭

prayer mode,‭
eyes glancing,‭
catches sight‭

of Red Admiral,‭
flower to flower,‭
wings a flap.‭

I mow the grass‭
by the church wall,‭
the motor running,‭

cut grass in flight,‭
sweaty brow,‭
wipe with thumb end‭

near palm.‭
The balding‭
peasant monk,‭

head to one side,‭
walks in the aisle‭
between choir stalls,‭

carrying the old broom‭
in his red white‭
knotted knuckled hand,‭

black robes‭
sweeping the floor‭
as he walks.‭

His high brows‭
are raised‭
like awaiting hawks.
MONKS AND A NOVICE IN AN ABBEY IN 1971.( Terce is third hour of the Prayer of the Church prayers.) Post: after.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Sitting in her wheel chair
Anne stared at the sea
from the beach
where I’d pushed her

from the home
her dark hair
toyed by the breeze
her hands

on the arms
of the chair
her one leg showing
from her short

red skirt
they say the sea
gives up its dead
she said suddenly

I nodded
they say the moon
is 283,900 miles
from the Earth

I raised my eyebrows
they say the stars
we see in the sky
at night often

have burnt out
years before
so that we are seeing
ghost stars

I looked at her head
the center parting
the straight hair
they say the sun

is 93 million miles
from our planet
I stood behind her chair
gazing at the sea

and the few swimmers
out there
do you hear me Kid?
she said

yes
I replied
I hear
then answer me

do you think
I’m talking to myself
like a loon?
no

I thought
you were thinking out loud
I said
no

I was telling you stuff Kid
she said
there was a pause
she scratched

the stump of her leg
Sister Bridget says
she's still a ******
can you imagine that?

Anne said
I looked at a ship
on the horizon
no

I said
can't imagine that
why can't you imagine that?
she asked

why can't you imagine
Sister Bridget as a ******?
I don't know
I said

she looked up at me
do you know
what a ****** is?
she asked

no
I said
that's why
I can't imagine it

she smiled
and looked back
at the sea
means she's not

had ***
with a man
Anne said
I see

I said
I looked
as she rubbed
her stump

with her left hand
are you a ******?
I asked
what do you think Kid?

I'm 12 years old
I live with my parents
I go to school
I’ve one

fecking leg
I wouldn't let
a boy touch me
if he promised me

the moon
yes
I’m a ******
I nodded my head

and looked at the sea
that's good
I guess
I said.
BOY AND GIRL IN A NURSING HOME AND BEACH IN 1950S ENGLAND.
Jun 2014 · 336
NETANYA QUIZZING.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Who was that?
Netanya asked

who was whom?
I said

that *****
who has just
dropped you off
in her car
she said

O her
she gave me
a lift home
from the store

what did you do
at the store
that she needs
to give you a lift
in her car?
she said

I work at the store
she said
can I give you
a life home?

O sure
what else
did you give her
to make her
so grateful?

she gave me a lift
because she was going
my way
I said

do you fancy her?
does she get
your pecker going?
Netanya said
in her tight voice

I walked to the fridge
and took out a beer
pulled the ring
on the lid
and took a sip

she's four months pregnant
I said
walking to the sitting room
and sitting down

yours I suppose
she said
she stood with her hands
on her hips
her eyes darkening

no of course not
I barely know her
she works
in Home ware

I bet you've
given her one
Netanya said

I looked
at her frizzy hair
dark but greying

you know I wouldn't
I said

how do I know
what you get up to
at the store?
she replied

I don't fancy any
of the dames
at the store
I lied

Netanya walked off
her backside swaying
like a ship
on stormy seas

thoughts of the young dame
on Perishables
buzzing like bees.
A MAN AND HIS WIFE AND THE LIFT HOME.
Jun 2014 · 415
PRIOR TO TERCE.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
The black robed monks
genuflect towards
the altar

then bow
to each other
then take their places

in the choir.
I **** the grave
of an old French monk

in the monk's cemetery,
holding up
the bright red poppy

like a pagan's head.
The old peasant monk
sits in the stall

at the back of the church
where the lay brothers
used to sit

in the old days,
he stares
at the spot

on the flagstone floor
where sunlight
comes and lays.
Jun 2014 · 658
FAY AND ME AND THE EYES.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
Fay looked over
the ledge
of the balcony
of Banks House

that Sunday morning
I stood beside her
she'd just come back
from mass

with her family
and had sneaked out
to see me
the baker's cart

was over
in the Square
the horse
was stationary

eating out
of some nose bag
we watched the baker
run with his basket

to one of the flats
what did they teach you
at mass today?
I asked

taught nothing
she said
it's listening
to the priest

perform mass
and read
from the Bible
and then take

holy communion
which is when
we take Christ
into ourselves

the baker ran back
to his cart
and took out
more loaves

and ran over
to another block
of flats
I see

I said
how's He do that?
Do what?
How does Christ

get into you?
in the bread
the host
as we call it

she said
He's in the bread?
It isn't bread any more
it's His body

she said
it's called
transubstantiation
that's a mouthful

I said
so what happens?
the horse attached
to the baker's cart

moved a few paces
the baker jumped
onto his seat
and they moved

a few feet
then he jumped off
with his basket
with more loaves

and rushed
to another flat
Fay looked at me
with her pale blue eyes

I loved those eyes
I could have boxed
them up
and carried them

around with me
and have taken
quick glimpses
at them

now and then
to give me a lift
the bread changes
into the Body of Christ

she said
how?
I asked
not outwardly

of course
she added
but sacramentally
spiritually

I was none the wiser
but looked at her
fair hair
long down

passed her thin shoulders
down touching
where her hips began
you look pretty

I said
Daddy says
that personal praise
of one's looks or body

is sinful
and is also vanity
I watched her
thin fingers touch

each other
the pads of the fingers
touching the pads
of the others

why create beauty
then call it sinful
to say so
I said

am I pretty?
she asked
sure you are
I said

and if it's sinful
to say so
then tough *****
she looked away

at the departing baker
on his cart
in the Square
and I continued

to give her
my hazel eyes
and
my cool stare.
BOY AND GIRL IN LONDON IN 1950S.
Jun 2014 · 291
AS GHOSTS WALK.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
And how could it be otherwise,
She knew the thumping year,
The old despise,

With words to match;
The peel and pinch,
The sink and feel

And know her reach
Of deep despair
And know each touch

Each poke and pull
All beneath his cloak
Of double-dealings

And double-talk;
To feel as ghosts walk
Jun 2014 · 351
AN AFTER THOUGHT.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
“Can you get your head
Off my breast,” she said,

The dead weight was killing her,
Sending messages

To her brain to get
The pain-in-the-****

Off of her, go back to sleep;
But when she gazed at him,

At his fine shaped,
Dark-haired, head,

She relented,
Let him lay his head

And thought of him
Dying there instead.
Jun 2014 · 335
ALICE'S GRAVE.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
“Come and see where Alice lies,”
He said. My eyes
Caught sight of tombs and graves
With rest in peace and Jesus saves

Carved on stone,
And then, there alone,
Beyond the rest, beneath a tree,
Against a wall, and hard to see,

A tombstone stood erected,
Green with time, half neglected.
“They placed her here,”
He said, “out of fear.”

And pointing to the stone, which read:
I lie here not in sleep, but dead,
Waiting for the trumpet call
Which will resurrect us all,

In the meantime, not a sound
Or I will drag you underground.
Jun 2014 · 329
ALICE MOON GAZING.
Terry Collett Jun 2014
And what good would it do? she asked,
Knowing it made none,
Not as far as he was concerned;

He just burned
With the odd deep angst,
And pulled and punched,

And spoke his mind,
As if anyone gave a dog’s hair,
And only she

Knowing where it’d all end,
Sat staring at the moon,
Listening to some singer croon

From the radio,
Feeling the last blow
Fade away,

Until the next one
Tomorrow, or some other day.
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