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Terry Collett Nov 2013
O'Brien said
the whole girl thing
was a falsity
why waste your time

on them?
he'd told Baruch
yes why?
Sutcliffe said

in an echo
as they walked home
from school
along

the New Kent Road
holding a cigarette
to one side
a thin line

of smoke
coming
from his mouth
as she spoke

Baruch said nothing
about Fay
he just listened
thinking of her

as they walked along
his hands
in his pockets
his scuffed shoes

treading the pavement
his eyes looking
at Sutcliffe
at his blonde hair

and bright blue eyes
and O'Brien
with his shock
of brown hair

and his crafty eyes
I've yet to meet a girl
worth losing sleep over
he said

not a wink of sleep
Sutcliffe added
Baruch had seen Fay
the day before

on the way home
by the church
on the corner
of Meadow Row

she in her catholic
school uniform
clutching her satchel
her bright eyes on him

her fair hair
brightened
by the afternoon sun
how they had walked together

up the Row
she talking of the nuns
at the school
about the whole Latin thing

about the long list
of saints she had
to remember
he took in

her anxiety
her paleness of skin
he told her
of the pottery teacher

who ridiculed his pots
and how he did it
in front of the class
holding up the ***

and running it down
not that I care a toss
Benedict said
least not

about the ***
and they crossed
Rockingham Street
and up the *****

and there they waited
gazing at each other
the silence
like thin silk

he wanted to kiss her
but not doing so
she wondered
if she could get

nearer to him
maybe much closer
but feared her father
might hear of it

and he didn't like Baruch
didn't like the Jew boy
keep yourself free
of them

O'Brien said
girls cling to you
like leeches
and ****

the being
out of you
with their petty wants
yes wants and wants

Sutcliffe echoed
Baruch paused
by the hairdresser shop
by the crossing

opposite Meadow Row
best get home
Baruch said
yes me too

said Sutcliffe
hope my cousin's gone home
she's been with us
for weeks now

and always
in the bathroom
and wandering the house
in her almost

see through night dress
sure sure
O'Brien said
bet you hate that

and he laughed
and Sutcliffe walked off
home the cigarette
behind his back

held
in his inky fingers
see you around
O'Brien said

and wandered on
up the road
and Baruch
saw him off

and crossed the road
and walked down
Meadow Row
thinking of Fay

and that moment
he almost kiss her
how they stood
gazing at each other

he gazing
at her fine beauty
her figure  
and she fearing

her father
would know
and the nuns
at the school

always writing to him
about her
and what she does
and does not

and she seeing
Baruch there
feeling her heart beat
and sensed feeling hot.
SET IN LONDON IN 1950S.
Terry Collett Jul 2013
Dalya met Baruch in Oslo,
a small cafe in a back street;
he was eating a cream cake

and coffee. She was fuming
over the Yank ***** that she
shared a tent with back at

base camp. It’s like sharing
with a scented skunk, she said.
Baruch listened, the fiery girl

sat opposite him, stirred her
latte, spat out words. Baruch
was halfway through the Gulag

book, the Solzhenitsyn eye
opener on the labour camps
of Russia. Dalya’s gripe seemed

pretty shallow; her language
left little to the imagination,
rough words, hard chipped,

chiselled out of rock sort of thing,
he thought, watching her mouth
move the words. Always about

the men she’s had, Dalya said,
as if I cared a monkey’s. Baruch
forked in more cake, fingered

off cream from his upper lip
and licked. They’d picked up
the American in Hamburg,

squeezed her into the overland
truck with the others. And oh,
yes, where she's been, Dalya said,

she’s been under the Pope’s
armpit, no doubt.  She sipped
the latte, stared at Baruch, her

eyes dark blue, her lips thin, her
hair dark and curled. Maybe she
has, Baruch said, but what’s it to

you? I have to hear her jabbering
on in the tent night after night,
Dalya said, and me trying to get

to sleep. You can always swap with
me, he said, she can share with
the Aussie prat, who’s in with me.

She didn’t reply, but looked at her
latte, stirred with the plastic spoon.
And what would my brother say?

He’d tell the parents when we got
home. Baruch knew her brother
wouldn’t have minded, he was often

drinking and drunk till blinded.
Baruch had only suggested it in
jest, nothing really meant, but she
was preferable to the Aussie in his tent.
Odd thing, the American and the Aussie guy did share a tent in the end, a meeting of nations.
Terry Collett Dec 2013
Fay can see Baruch
from the window
of the living room
down on the area

of grass below
he is alone
sitting on one
of the bomb shelters

left over
from the war
she peers down at him
taking in

the cowboy hat
the silver looking
6 shooter toy gun
he seems

to be cleaning
she wishes
she was there
with him

but her father
says she is to stay in
and learn about the saints
and said he will

quiz her later
when he gets home
from work
about them to see

what she has learnt
the book
is on the chair
unopened

a bookmark
of St Benedict
lies on top
her mother

is in the kitchen
preparing soup
she knows her mother
would turn a blind eye

if she wanted
to go out
but they both know
that her father

would punish her
if he caught her out
especially
with Baruch

the Jew Boy
as her father calls him
the killer of Our Lord
he often says

although Baruch
denies being involved
in any way
she hopes Baruch

will look up
at her window
and see her
he has put his gun

in the holster hanging
from the belt
of his jeans
and holds a rifle

bought for him
for his birthday
he aims at the sky
and twirls around

pretending to shoot
pigeons flying
over head
she watches him

as he aims
at the coal wharf
where the coal carts
are being loaded

with coal
from chutes above
her father doesn't like
Baruch even though

Baruch always smiles
and says shalom
to him if he passing
her father on the stairs

of the flats
Baruch says
her father is a schmuck
but she doesn't know

what that means
but if Baruch said it  
it must be a nice term
she thinks wiping away

the steamed up glass
where she has
breathed on it
she blows him a kiss

from the palm
of her thin hand
he doesn't know
but he'll get it

any how she knows
he aims at
the steam train
passing over

the bridge
by the Duke of Wellington pub
she smiles as he does
the kickback

from his rifle
the train passes
unharmed
the driver unaware

he has been fired upon
by a cowboy
from the grass
she eyes him

determinedly
wants him to look up
at her window
he lifts the rifle

to the sky again
and fires
then he pauses  
lowers his rifle

and stares at her window
she waves
he looks
she waves frantically

he looks away
she bites a lip
he stares up
at her window

and beckons her down
with a wave
of his hand
she waves

crossing her hands
as if to say
can't come
he gazes

and then waves
and blows a kiss
from his hand
upwards

then he climbs down
from the bomb shelter
and disappears
the grass is empty

he has gone
the book of saints
lies on the chair
unopened

she goes
from the window
and picks it up
and opens

and begins to read
sensing
a good portion
of her 11 year old

girl's heart
bleeds.
BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON.
Terry Collett Oct 2013
At the back
of the brick bomb shelter
out of window view
on Saturday morning

before the matinée
Fay pulled up the hem
of her yellow dress
to show Baruch

the bruises
and red marks
her father had made
and all because

she didn't know
the Credo in Latin
all the way through
Baruch stared quickly

then she let down the hem
and said
don't tell no one
else I'll be for it

I won't say a word
he said
what the heck
is the Credo?

she looked at him frowning
you don't know?
no idea
he said

it's the I Believe prayer
and we Catholics
are supposed to know it
all through

but my father
wanted me to know it
all in Latin
but I couldn't get it all

and he got mad
and punished me
she said
I believe what?

he asked
I believe in God
the Father and so on
she said

I'm Jewish
Baruch said
we have our own prayers
not that I can recall

any of them
I do
she said
but Latin is hard

and the nuns say it
all the time in their prayers
and one nun hit me
with a ruler for mistakes

and said I was lazy
Baruch shrugged his shoulders
glad I aren't Catholic then
he said

now what about
the cinema matinée?
you coming?
my father said

I was to stay in
all weekend and practice
but my mother said
go and enjoy

so you are coming?
he asked
Fay nodded
yes guess I will

what about your old man?
he's away for the day
in Liverpool
and Mum said

she'd cover for me
good for her
he said
she pulled her dress tidy

and he pushed his fingers
through his dark brown hair
and they climbed over
the metal fence

surrounding the grass
and bomb shelter
and walked under
the railway bridge

and up the narrow road
behind the cinema
Baruch in his jeans
and red cowboy shirt

his silver looking
six shooter
tucked in his belt
walking beside her

looking out for bad guy
or Injuns
making sure
none scalped him or her

with their tomahawks
riding their invisible horses
across the bomb site
but none came

so he could relax
knowing she
and he
would be all right.
SET IN LONDON IN 1950S.
Terry Collett Sep 2014
Fay walks out
of the flat
onto the
red brick and
grey concrete
balcony

her father's
angry words
in her ears
and her head
his hand mark
on her thigh
red throbbing
making cry

it's Sunday

below her
the empty
tarmac Square

pigeons there
no one else
excepting
the milkman
with his horse
and milk cart
and bottles
rattling

flats all round
opposite
and beside
she sees it
watery
as from a
goldfish bowl

she gently
rubs her thigh
all because
she didn't
know the Creed
in Latin
all way through
of the mass

the strict nuns
at her school
had told him
of this fact

some one moves
on the Square
she watches
young Baruch
with brown hair
grey pullover
and blue jeans
walk along
holding his
catapult

she gazes
he looks up
waves to her
come on down
he beckons
mouthing words

she wonders
if she should
her father
doesn't like
the Jew boy
stay away
from the Jew
he tells her

she waves back
at Baruch
should she go?
she likes him
makes her laugh
tells her things

she goes down
the stairway
rushes down
excited

she feels safe
with Baruch
her fears leave
disappear

where are you
going to?
she asks him

any where
I want to
he replies
the whole world's
my oyster

she smiles now
the red thigh
still throbbing
can I come?
she asks him

if you like
what about
your old man
won't he mind?

she stares at
hazel eyes
and brown hair

'spect he will
she replies

she shows him
her red thigh

what's that for?
Baruch asks

not knowing
all of the
Latin Creed
she mutters

is that all?
does God care?
Baruch asks

I don't know
Fay replies
looking up
at the flat

let's go then
adventure
beckons us
he tells her

they walk off
down the *****
cross the road
then walk up
Meadow Row
quietly
to the site
of bombed out
wrecked houses
and remains

he picks up
small round stones
loads up his
catapult

flies at cans
or bottles
left behind
by drunkards

she watching
as the sound
echoes loud
in the air
breaking in
her Sabbath
smashing glass
crashing cans

your go now
he tells her
handing her
his weapon
the wooden
catapult
and a stone

she fires
at a can
BANG it echoes

a voice shouts
IT'S SUNDAY
TIME OF REST
GO AWAY

Baruch smiles
best be off

and they walk
on to the
New Kent Road
he holding
her thin hand

she thinking
about her
father's rage

Baruch thinks
of her hand
warm and soft
and looks out
for cowboys
the bad guys
ambushing
from corners
of this new
Dodge City

she feels safe
holding hands
12 years old
as is he

as they walk
their own new
London Town
Dodge City.
A BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON
Terry Collett Dec 2013
Fay stood next
to Baruch
in the Square

have a ride
if you like
on my new

blue scooter
he had said
so she did

with one foot
placed firm on
the scooter

the other
pushed away
the hard ground

moving on
the scooter
hands gripping

the rubber
handle bars
and she sensed

air in her
face and hair
moving fast

Baruch left
behind her
in the Square

he thinking
how happy
now she was

moving on
over ground
other kids

shouting out
faster Fay

and she did
as if all
pent up fears

had gone bang
and had then
disappeared

get off that
Jew's scooter
her father

shouted out
and she turned
and the fears

all returned
she got off
the scooter

handed it
to Baruch
all joy gone

happiness
had dissolved
her father

gripped her hand
hauled her off
looking back

at Baruch
hatefully
but Baruch

merely smiled
his contempt
his green eyes

or hazel
as some said
shooting off

those arrows
pretendingly
in the ****

of Fay's strict
catholic
father but

to Fay he
blew to her
from his palm

the unseen
pink kisses
of concern

then she'd gone
up the stairs
to her fate

a lecture
against Jews
murderers

of Jesus
he will say
or worst still

punishment
a beating
to enforce
his strict will.
BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON.
Terry Collett Nov 2013
Baruch likes
Marvel's wife
he likes being

with her
likes her near
Marvel said

come over
come play chess
have a few drinks

a smoke or so
and so he has
and Marvel's wife is there

and she's got the drinks
and made up
some sandwiches

and sits nearby
watching the TV
and he sees her there

wearing the red dress
her dark hair
and when she walks

across the room
he catches sight
of her swaying ***

the tightness of the dress
where it holds
and he looks

half knowingly
so as not
to arouse Marvel's

suspicions
but little
does Marvel know

that Baruch has seen her
when he was out
on his job

little did he know
his wife has brought
Baruch in

got him a drink
and relaxed him
on the white sofa

shut the mutt
in the other room
and said

how do you like your drink?
and he said
cool

and so she got him
a cool drink
and swayed back to him  

leaning down towards him
easing down
her fine *******

towards him
and that time
when she was

all over him
kissing his neck
coming on strong

and the sofa
where Marvel's wife
sits now

has been a place
of serious love making
but Marvel thinks only

of the next chess move
his stubby fingers
moving his piece

thinking of checkmate
not seeing Baruch's eyes
on his wife

as she sits
on the white sofa
and Baruch takes in

her knees
the legs crossing over
Marvel smoking

his cigarette
smiling as he moves
his bishop

his eyes on the board
and his wife sitting there
behind his back

on the sofa
lying back
pointing to Baruch

her lonely cleavage
and he smiling
one eye

on the board
and on his queen
and the other eye

seeking an opening
in her dress
some visual

to take home
some dream piece
to take to bed

and turn around
and around
inside his head.
Terry Collett Jan 2014
Baruch sat with Fay
on top of the concrete
bomb shelter
on the grass area

of Banks House
in early evening
looking skyward
taking in the stars

sprinkled in the dark
blue sheet of sky
and the moon quartered
as if someone

had taken a slice
out of it like cheese
the coal wharf
was closed up

the shops shut
a few stragglers walked
to the Duke of Wellington
for a drink

deserved or not
steam trains
still went over
the railway bridge

over Rockingham Street
disturbing the air
Daddy said
Jews killed Jesus

Fay said
looking side ways
at Baruch beside her
is that true?

I think the Romans
did the killing
the Jews kind of
egged them on

I suppose
Baruch said
but Jesus himself
was a Jew

he added
watching a bat
flap across the sky
catching his eye

was he?
she said frowning
he doesn't look Jewish
in the picture

in my Bible
she said
he looks
kind of unJewish

Baruch smiled
I guess they painted
the Jewishness
out of him

he said
she lay back
on the shelter roof
her hands resting

on her stomach
looking at the sky
Baruch lay beside her
the density of space

is fascinating
he said
kind of
makes you wonder

how far in it goes and on
Heaven is out there
Daddy said
Fay suggested shyly

beyond the deep dark
Baruch watched
another bat
flap by

the light of stars
reaches us
long after the star
has burnt out

and died
he said
it's like seeing
ghost stars

she laughed
and reached
for his hand
really?

she said
sure are
stars are light years away
their light takes

many years
to reach us
she held his hand
it felt warm

in the evening air
the light
from the nearest star
left there

when we
were 8 years old
and now we're 12
and seeing it

here and now
she liked to feel
his hand and skin
she dismissed

what her father said
that to touch
a Jew
was a deadly sin.
A JEWISH BOY AND CATHOLIC GIRL IN 1950S LONDON.
Terry Collett Sep 2013
It was Shlomit
who fell from the seesaw
in the park

and grazed her knee
and elbow
Baruch who

was on the other end
jumped off
and helped her up

trying to console her
patting her
on the back

as she leaned over
dabbing at
her bloodied knee

and crying said
look at the hole
in my jumper

o my God
Mum’s going to **** me
o look at my knee

Baruch took her
to the old dame
who took shelter

in the first aid place
and sorted out
minor injuries

there there
the old dame said
we’ll soon put that right

and took Shlomit in
and sat her on one
of the chairs

and got out
her first aid box
and cleaned off

the dirt and wound
with some yellow stuff
which made Shlomit

cringe and cry  
o my my
said the old dame

its hurts
but it cleans out
the baddies

Baruch watched helpless
taking in
the lopsided

hair band
on Shlomit’s head
the blood red

jumper sleeve
the grazed knee
the old dame

wiping it clean
Shlomit in tears
looking up at him

her glasses crooked
o my God
what will Daddy say?

she uttered
o he’ll understand
the old dame said

don’t think he will
Baruch thought
he isn’t that type

of guy
leather her
most probably

he mused
watching the old dame’s fingers
putting on white lint

and placing pink plasters
over the top
to keep it on

now the elbow
the dame said
pulling up

Shlomit’s jumper sleeve
the elbow was badly grazed
the hole of the jumper

stuck to the wound
take hold
of her hand

Sonny
the old dame said
this might hurt

so Baruch took hold
of Shlomit’s hand
and watched

as the old dame
cleaned up
the elbow

with the yellow liquid
and cotton wool
Shlomit’s small hand

grabbed his own
the fingers
with bitten nails

clung tight to his own
he noticed she swung
her legs back and forth

under the chair
the plastered knee
came in and out

of sight
the window brought in
and allowed to fall

upon her knees
the bright morning light.
Terry Collett Mar 2014
Baruch could hear
Fay's father
bawling her out
along the balcony

his  Catholic platitudes
filling the air
he watched
from a safe distance

as Fay's fair hair
was caught
by sunlight
her father's

dark expression
like black clouds
on a summer's day
Pater Nosters

rose and fell
then he went indoor
and left her
standing there

the echo of his voice
staining the air
Baruch waved to her
and she descended

the stairs
to the balcony below
and along
where Baruch stood

what was that all about?
he asked
the nuns
reported me

meeting you
after school
the other day
she said

your daughter
is meeting the Jew
they'd said
he said

Fay looked back
behind her
as she touched
Baruch's arm

you're not to meet
the Jew boy
he was shouting
said he'd give me

a good hiding
if I saw you again
she said
looking up

at the balcony above
Baruch looked
at her fair hair
let loose

unfettered by bow
or ribbon
over her
blue dress

guess we mustn't
be seen then
he said softly
by Burton's window

in half hour
she said
and fled
along the balcony

and up the stairs
to her father's flat
Baruch watched
her go

the sway
of her dress
the hair in flow
then gone

from sight
just going out
he said
to his mother

at her ironing
in the front room
ok
she said

be careful
and so he
went down the stairs
and across the Square

down the *****
and along Rockingham Street
under the railway bridge
and along by

the back
of the cinema
and on to
the New Kent Road

down the subway
along the echoing passage
thinking of Fay
and her father

and his ways
he whistled
as he walked
his sound echoing

along the walls
a Hebrew tune
he'd heard
whistling loud

like a noisy bird
then up the steps
to the place to meet
by Burton's window

on the corner
of St George Road
traffic
racing by

waiting for Fay
her beauty
to greet
his Jewish eye.
BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON.
Terry Collett Aug 2013
Milka liked it
when Baruch
took her hand
and they walked

to bridge over the river
and talked
or went to see
the peacocks along

the other lane
with the tall trees.
Her  brothers knew now,
but said nothing,

being Baruch's friend's,
they took it
he'd lost hold
of his senses.

She smiled
when one said this.
She didn't say
about the kiss.

Just the one,
that one time,
last time,
unexpectedly.

She liked
that her mother
didn't object
when Baruch came

to pick her up;
her look said it:
no hanky-panky,
you're still 14

even if he's 16,
her gaze said all that,
she assumed
as Baruch nodded his head

when he came
and her mother smiled.
Milka liked it
when her hand

felt his, his soft flesh
on hers, his thumb rubbing
the back of her hand
in slow movement.

He talked
of the latest Elvis film
or LP he'd bought
(promised to take her

to the cinema to see
or his home to hear
the new LP
(she'd have to see).

She talked
of her brothers' teasing
or the girls at school
who suggested she did

such and such
(even though she knew
she'd never) trying to be
with it or clever.

She liked watching
the river flow
beneath the bridge
as they stood and talked,

their hands holding,
their bodies near,
the summer sun above.
Was this for real?

Was this love?
She liked it
when they watched
the peacocks strutting,

their calls, their tails
and feathers,
and Baruch near,
his closeness warming,

his hand keeping her close,
hip to hip, her body alive
to every touch.
But no hanky-panky,

at least not so far,
not beyond
the limits set,
least not, not yet.
Terry Collett Jun 2015
I waited by the pond-or lake as Yehudit called it being a romantic- staring across the skin of the water. Dragonflies hovered over the still surface like miniature helicopters, then took off zigzagging this way and then that. Ducks swam by on the other side gliding on the surface and now and then ducking under the water like upturned boats. Yehudit said yesterday to meet at the lake. I'll be there, Baruch, she said-she Herbrewizes  my name sometimes, most call me Benny-, even if I have to sneak out of a window. Some days her mother makes it difficult for her to get out before chores, and as it was the start of the summer school holidays, she was more firmer than ever about getting chores done. I looked at the bushes across the water leading into the woods that way. Behind me were more bushes and trees of the other part of the wood. There was an area secluded from the rest behind me where Yehudit and I had made love a couple of times. Even though it was secluded we were always on the listen for sounds, for foot steps or human voices. One time a grey squirrel spied on us as we were making love, stood on a branch and watched us for a few moments like some hairy voyageur. I stood with my hands in the pockets of my blue jeans, my white shirt open at the neck and loose from my jeans trying to act the cool kid. On the way to the pond I had passed cows in a field, avoiding cow pats, unsure if one of them might be a bull. I walked past the secluded area wondering we could have been seen by anyone passing by. I couldn't see in so I guess no one would if we were silent and not going it some. I thought it was silent, but it wasn't, there were birds singing, a woodpecker was hammering away in the woods to my left. There was no breeze, the air was still, it was balmy. Then she was there, coming out of the woods by a narrow path. Been waiting long? She asked. No, not long, I said. She was dressed in a black skirt and green top. She stood there staring at the water. Had a job to get out with out too many questions, she said. Where are you going in such a hurry? Mum asked, and so on and I said, meeting Baruch and she said who? Baruch or Benedict, I said. What'd she say then? I asked. Third degree questions where and what are you doing kind of stuff. What'd you say? Yehudit sighed and sat on the grassy bank and pulled her skirt over her knees- spoilsport- I sat next to her. I said I was going with you butterfly watching, Yehudit said. Did she believe you? I doubt it. But she let me go eventually. She lay back on the grass, looking up at the blue sky. I turned and lay on my stomach studying her. So what now? I asked. Have to see, won't we. I eyed her lips. Red, pink, slightly open. She spoke. What if she comes and looks for me? The lips moved opening and closing with each word. I loved her chin, the curve of it, the redden cheeks. Why would she? I asked, lowering my eyes to her neck. I'm fourteen as are you, and I think, she thinks things about us. Such as? Her neck was creamy white, soft, kissable, but no love bites were visible, thank God. She thinks we're having ***, I think, Yehudit said. We are, I said, looking at the swell of her *******, snuggled away like small babes. But, she shouldn't know that; she ought not to even think of that, Yehudit said angrily. Did she say as such? No, but I felt  as if she thought we were or had. Yehudit looked at me. Her bright eyes searched me. So she just might come here, she said, spy on us. I laughed. It's no laughing matter, Baruch, what if she does? We're just sitting here; no harm in that, I said. Anyway, I said, did you tell her where we'd be? She nodded. I had to or she'd not let me out. She'd walk half a mile to catch you being ******? I said. Someone may have seen us last time, Yehudit said. Who and where? She closed her eyes. I wanted to kiss her *******, but they were wrapped away like gifts. Don't know, but someone my mother knows. So we just sit here until it all blows over, I said. How long? Baruch, I can't just sit by a pond all day waiting to see if my mother turns up. I kissed her neck. Soft, velvety. She opened her eyes. That doesn't help. I kissed her chin. Nor does that. I kissed her lips, she murmured then was silent. We kissed. Warm, sticky, tongues touching. She hugged me close to her; I touched her hair with my left hand and her thigh with my right going beneath her skirt. She pulled away. What if she come? What if she does? What then? I said. I'm for it, Yehudit said. We kissed again. My hand touched her *****. She giggled. Stop or she'll hear me, Yehudit said. The pond was still; ducks swam on their way. Dragonflies hovered and took off. I turned away and lay back on the grass, staring at the sky, feeling dampness on my fingers. It's too risky, she said. She may come. I watched white clouds drift by. My pecker had stirred. My heart was thumping fast. Sorry, she said, want to, but I'd not relax thinking her near listening. I closed my eyes, recalled the last time. After church, before she went home, us coming to the pond and it just happened. Us in the secluded area, the sound of the Sunday hymns going round my head, the bushes our shelter, the soft grass our green bed. Not your fault, I said, musing on the last time ******* on our soft green bed.
A BOY AND GIRL BY A POND IN 1962 ONE SUMMER'S DAY
Terry Collett Sep 2013
Mrs Parton said
come on round
my husband's out
for the day
and won't be home for lunch

so Baruch went around
on his afternoon off
forsaking the relaxation
of listening to Delius

forgoing two glasses of wine
and a closed eyes
lie down on his bed
he visited Mrs Parton instead

walking up her street
eyes behind curtains
watching him he supposed
she opened her door

and let him in
there
she said
sit on the sofa

and hey take off
your jacket
so he took off
his jacket

and she laid it
on an armchair
a dog barked nearby
o pay him no mind

that's just Brownie our mutt
I locked him outside
o right
Baruch said

looking up
at the window
across the room
where the sound

came from
you want a drink?
she asked
yes ok

he said
I'll get you one later
she said
and she leaned into him

and kissed his cheek
he felt it and sensed
the passion behind it
but didn't expect it

after all
she was 40
to his 28
( why did I come

around? he mused)
she leaned back
and gazed at him
her eyes hawk-like

taking in
his uncertainty
don't look so surprised
she said

after all
you did come around
yes
he said

of course
she kissed him
on the lips
and shut out

any more words
he might have had
he closed his eyes
tried to remember

a bit of Delius
some aspect
of his music
to make sense

of his moments
their lips parted  
she placed a hand
on his upper thigh

moved it to his crotch
(Mrs Cleves would have
got him at this stage
of operations a scotch)

his eyes lit up
his pecker stirred
I can sense movement
in the jungle

she said
how about here
on the sofa
I don't want to

on the marital bed?
Baruch tried to calm
the pecker
attempted to think

on higher things
are you sure?
he said
right now?

why waste time
she said
and proceeded to
lift up her skirt

and take off
her underwear
he sat
with an uncertain stare  

come on
she said
let's get on
before the kids

get home from school
school?
he muttered
yes they'll be home

in an hour or so
she said
she lay back
and pulled him

close to her
he fiddled to undress
thought of how
Mrs Cleves

would have got him
nigh on hooked on
***** first
before she pounced

he lay on her
(Mrs Parton)
his lips touching hers
but the pecker

wouldn't stir
it lay slumped
like a drunk
come on

she said
don't you want to?
I do but Percy doesn't
he said

Percy?
she muttered
he pointed downwards
o

she said
her voice
indicating disappointment
maybe I was too rushed

she said
maybe
he said
and sat back down

on the sofa
and she sat up
how about a drink?
that might stir him

she said
ok sure
Baruch said
she walked off

towards the kitchen
he sat studying the room
he put away his pecker
zipped up the fly

the mutt barked
the sound of a bottle
being uncorked
a voice singing

he thought of Mrs Cleves
**** naked
on the rug
19 years his senior

but my God
he thought
she made it all
so much easier.
Terry Collett Aug 2013
Doronit would spit fire
and Baruch knew it
he'd had it before
that time she'd gave him

the hard time because
he'd sat watching
some dame
in a caravan opposite

hanging out washing
on a make shift line
fancy her do you?
Doronit said

why don't you go over
and chat her up
but Baruch told her
he wasn't interested

and that he was just
observing the washing
hanging process
looking at her smalls

I suppose?
she said  
no he said he hadn't
but he had been looking

at the fine movement
of the dame's ****
but he never told
Doronit that

yes she'd spit fire
she'd lay the words on him
and that time
she saw this

other dame's name
in his note book
and when he came home
for lunch

she said
who's this then?
you having it off
with her?

Baruch told her
it was some dame
he was watching at work
all about

security and such
and she began
throwing stuff at him
shoes coat hangers knives

forks and spoons
whatever she could lay
her hands on and some
of it came down the stairs

like missiles
and he went up
and pinned her down
on the bed to calm her

and she relaxed
and said
was that all? no affair?
no

he said
no affair
nothing
just security

at work
and she smiled
and kissed him
and that was that

all over
fire spat and done
but this time
the fire

would be for real
and Baruch knew it
and he watched her go
about her work that day

hoovering dusting
cleaning the floor
and he waved goodbye
at the door

and never looked back
all over
no more fire
no more

Doronit had done it
for the last time
and he recalled her
that last moment

she with her cigarette smoking
her hair tied back
her eyes full
of dull fires

burning embers
and that is all
looking back
he remembers.
Terry Collett Jul 2013
Miryam stands beside
two Arabs
and a camel
to be photographed.
Baruch presses
the shutter
of the camera
and the scene
is captured.

She pays
the two young men
and they walk off
with the camel
talking in
their own tongue.

She adjusts the bikini top.
Brauch puts away the camera.
Someone said
they expect to be paid,
she says.
Why not,
Baruch says,
watching her fiddle
with her bikini bottom,
her fine behind.

The Moroccan beach
is deserted, except
for the departing men
and camel further
along the beach.

She complains of the heat,
fingers her fuzzy hair,
stares at Baruch,
scratches her nose,
gives a Monroe pose,
hands on hips.
Take me like this,
she says.

He obliges.
He shutters the camera,
his eyes capture,
stores away her image,
in more ways
than one.

She talks of his drinking
into the small hours
in that Tangier's
night club
the guide took them to,
the belly dancer,
the snake charmer.

On the way back
to the camp
in the back
of the truck
with the others,
he remembers,
the kissing,
the embracing,
stirring his pecker.

She talks
of the early morning sky,
the smell of kebabs,
her feeling heady,
how she thought
he'd come to her tent.

Too tired,
he says,
besides I had to think
of your reputation.
Others would know.

I'm not a nun,
she says,
getting me stirred up
and then leaving to stew.

They walk hand in hand
along the beach,
the tide coming in,
touching their feet.
She talks of her parents,
medical professionals,
the boy she had a crush on
who went off
with someone else.

Baruch feels her pulsing
along the wrist,
his fingers holding there.

She talks of the other evening
when they came down there
to escape the noisy party
at the camp, the dancing,
the music, the wine.

He recalls the darkness,
the deep tuffs of grass
before the beach
was reached,
she and him,
kissing, embracing,
moonlight shining,
stars like scattered
sparkling diamonds.

No one missed us,
she says,
no one knew
about me and you.

He remembers
the echo of music
over head,
the gentle breeze,
distant voices,
her murmurings,
sound of sea
upon the beach,
both feeling
and touching,
giving pleasure,
each to each.
Terry Collett Oct 2013
And Baruch met Yehudit
by the pond
through the woodland
over a few fences

and through fields of cattle
avoiding cow pats
the morning air warm
and she waiting there

gazing at the pond
at the ducks
swimming there
birds flying across

the water's skin
the trees in full leaf
and she turned
when she heard him coming

thought you might not come
she said
she was wearing
an old green skirt

and white blouse
and her brown hair
was held in place
by a green band

I said I'd come
he said
yes I know
but people sometimes

let you down
she said
he stood beside her
at the water's edge

have a problem getting out?
he asked
a bit
she said

Mother insisted on me
doing this and that
and where
are you going anyway?

she asked after
I did the chores
to see Baruch I replied
oh him my mother said

she sat down
on the grass
and he sat next to her
she sat cross legged

he sat with his legs
out straight
looking
at his old shoes

not impressed by me then?
he said
not impressed
with any male

she said
except her sons
and even they
have to meet

her standards
nice legs
Baruch said
pointing to her thighs

showing
where her skirt rode up
she pulled it over
her knees

you don't help your case
she said smiling
she watched as a swan
landed on the water

and swam as if it
owned the pond
beautiful isn't it?
she said

almost like you
he said
I'm being serious
she said

so am I
he replied
she didn't stop
you coming though

he added
it was close
I had to promise
not to get into mischief

she said
o that's messed up
our day then
he said smiling

she looked at the trees
above her head
I think someone
told her

about seeing us here
she said
what just sitting here
watching ducks?

maybe not just sitting
she said looking at him
her eyes light blue
in the sunlight

had that
draw me in
and see Heaven look
about them

her lips parted
the tip of tongue
ah then
he said

maybe
she said
not impressed?
he said

no don't think she was
who saw us?
God knows
she said

probably does
but He won't tell
Baruch said
you shouldn't blaspheme

she said
he kissed her lips
as she spoke
the words being swallowed

and she closed her eyes
and lips kissed lips
and the swan flew off
the wings breaking

the still air
but they still kissed
as if in someone's Heaven
there.
Terry Collett May 2014
Baruch laid stone
upon stone
on the grave.

Still warm;
dry weather for weeks.

Deganya put down
a stone gently,
placed it just so,
next to his.

They stood looking
at the stones
on the grave.

Flowers stood *****
in a vase, pink,
white and red.

Hard to believe
she's dead,
Baruch said.

Deganya stood
with her thin hands
at her sides.

Always
she survived things,
always the joke
of immortality,
Deganya said.

Mortality reminds us
who and what we are,
Baruch said,
kneeling down
arranging the stones.

That last time she knew,
Deganya said,
no joke that time.

She put her hands
together prayer-like.

Baruch gazed sideways
at the girl.

We had
our good times
together;
bad times, too.

She never
spoke of it,
Deganya said,
looking
at the flowers.

You made her happy
for years.

Baruch said nothing.

The stones were
as they should be now.

The girl's mother
had been a love of his.

Time had separated them;
the rows too frequent
at the end to repair.

Deganya looked at him
then at the sky,
sniffed the fragrant air.
A MAN AT HIS FORMER LOVER'S GRAVE.
Terry Collett Oct 2013
Fay met Baruch
by Arch Street
off of Meadow Row
he was by

the bombed out ruins
across the way
firing his catapult
at tin cans

and empty bottles
she stood at his side
hands in the pockets
of her cardigan

fair hair held
in place by a slide
not firing at the birds
are you?

she asked
looking anxious
no just cans
and bottles

he said
she seemed relieved
and stepped closer
hate to see things hurt

or killed
she said
he tucked the catapult
into the belt

of his jeans
and wiped his hands
on the blue cloth
your old man

let you out then?
he said
she looked about her
in case her father

was near at hand
to hear
my father’s off
for the day

she said
some church things
she added
good to have you here

Baruch said
he stared at her
taking in her hair
and eyes

and her mouth ajar
lips and small teeth
the patterned dress
coming to the knees

red on yellow
going to the flicks later
you want to come?
he asked

she frowned in thought
where?
Camberwell Green
he said

the picture house
is a fleapit
but the film’s good
she blinked

wiped her nose
no money
she said
Dad said to read

Mark Chapter 9
all through
before he gets home
and he will

question me
and if I don’t know it
she became silent
and looked away

Baruch caught sight
of a bruise yellowing
on her right brow
he’d not seen

until she moved
her hair by hand
to wipe her nose
when’s he back?

Baruch asked
late tonight
she said
best not go

she looked across
the bomb site
towards the coal wharf
where horse drawn wagons

came and went
or coal lorries  
along the small road
carrying their load

got time to take in
a film
he said
be back and study then

the Bible bit
she bit her lip
still got no money
she said

looking back at him
standing there
in jeans and blue shirt  
and mucked up hair

I’ve got 2/6d
that’ll do for us to go
and ride and see
and ride on back

she hesitated
looked concerned
if I don’t know St Mark 9
there’ll be hell to pay

(strapped backside
more like he thought
but didn’t say)
we can scan the pages

once we’re back
and gulp it down
and swot it up
he said

she stared
at her plimsolls
white ankle socks
the stones

and bricks
of the bomb site ground
tempted she said
ok

wanting to go
and be with him
she weighed
the balance

in her mind
pushing possible
punishment to the back
of her mind

already he was walking
towards the bus stop
across the bombsite
in casual pace

she followed
taking his hand in hers
unaware her father
from the top

of a bus
had seen
and taking note
knowing what to say

and do
she being
with that kid again
the downstairs Jew.
SET IN 1950S LONDON.
Terry Collett Jul 2013
So I told her
Anne said
stomping around
on her crutches

like a demented Amazon
I told her
to go **** herself
Baruch blushed

at the word
his ears tingled
as if they’d been slapped
what did she say?

he asked
she said I’d go to Hell
for using words like that
Anne said

crutching herself down
by the children’s slide
and shooed away
the children playing there

I told her
I’d see her there
she added
Baruch scratched his head

what did Sister Paul
say to that?
she said
if she were my mother

she’d put me
over her knee
Anne laughed
and stomped over

to the children’s swing
where little Miss Sad
was sitting but who fled
as Anne approached

so you aren’t allowed
to go to the beach then?
Baruch asked
no Skinny Kid

or so she said
not to go
without a member of staff
he nodded his head

she pulled a face
he fiddled
with his fingers
she scratched

the stump of her leg
so what do we do?
he asked
his eyes caught

by the exposed
remaining part
of her leg
go to the beach

of course
she said
and stop gawking
at my stump

will you Kid
unless you want
to kiss it
he looked away

back at
the nursing home
behind them
what if she sees us?

she won’t
she couldn’t see a fly
on her nose
Anne retorted

but what if we get caught
down there?
he asked
think positive Kid

we won’t
they won’t miss us
no more than Sister Paul
misses ***

she said
Baruch hesitated
he hated getting
into trouble

felt uneasy
about the deed
shall I get
your wheelchair?

no then they will know
if you go wheeling that
across the grass
no we’ll walk out

the back gate stealthily
she said
he looked at her
and smiled

she stared back
towards the nursing home
he stared
where her stump hung

just beneath
the short skirt
then looked away quick
as she gazed at him

let’s go Kid
and she crutched herself
forward between
the avenue of trees  

and he followed
looking back
at the windows
of the home

wondering how many
eyes were there
but she was going on
at a determined rate

not caring a fig
leaving all things
to some unknown god
or fate.
Terry Collett Apr 2014
Baruch met Yehudit
off the bus
it was her half day
off work

and they were going
to spend some time
alone together
as they used to

before they’d' left school
she still had
her work uniform on
and make up  

and her hair
was tidier
than it had ever been
can we go

to your place?
she asked
yes sure
the house is empty

until 3.20
she nodded
and they walked up
the road towards

the house
traffic rushing by
the sun warm
in the afternoon sky

hell of a day at work
she said
that manager
kept on at me

this is not how
we do it
he says
that is how

we do it
why is he
such a creep?
Baruch said

he thinks because
he's manager
he can get
girls to do things

but I always
put him straight
and he doesn't like it
that I don't let him

Yehudit said
report the  prat
Baruch said
a rook flew noiseilly

over head
she looked up
and down again
who would believe me?

I'm just a 15 year old kid
he’s a respected manager
been there
for 20 odd years

who are they
going to believe?
Baruch frowned
won't any

of the other girls
stick by you?
will they heck
most have slept

with him
they're not going
to show themselves up
as ****** are they?

she said
guess not
he said
they reached the house

and went in
the gate
and along the path
to the back door

and opened up
coffee or tea?
he asked
no

she said
let's not waste time
we only have
about 2 hours

so they went up
the stairs to his bedroom
and undressed
and got into bed

you ok with this?
he said
of course I am
she said

it's not you
I have a problem with
and besides
this is an expression

of my love
he kissed her
and she kissed
his neck

and he took in
her *******
the softness
the smoothness

as he ran his fingers
over them
and his pecker moved
and the room enclosed

and protected them
from the world outside
as they made love
the songs of birds

distant traffic
a ticking clock
her uniform
flung over

a chair
then they lay there
breathless
each moving

in a different world
breathing in
the same air
and on the bed post

hanging
her bright pink
flowered
underwear.
BOY AND GIRL AND *** IN 1963.
Terry Collett Aug 2013
Nima splashed water from one
of the fountains in Trafalgar Square
over Baruch. Laughing she did
it again, but he side-stepped, like

one out of rain, hands wide as if
to bless. He'd met her a few moments
before; by Nelson's Column, she’d
written from her hospital bed, drug

taking recovering (so said), cold
turkey or whatever she'd scribed.
Finishing the ablutions, she walked
on, he followed, stepping beside

her, catching her in profile, taking
in her cropped hair, brown, washed
and washed. She talked of the nursing
staff, who talked of her behind her

back, some at least, she added, chat
of the *** cupboard we used, that
time you came, she said, laughing,
walking out of the Square, along by

the gallery, her voice too loud, he
thought, but sounded out by the
traffic passing. She was clothed in
a blue dress, too short, he thought,

seeing her thighs, sans stockings or
tights, sandaled feet. They went into
Leicester Square, she talking of one
of the quacks she'd seen, head case,

foreign, fancies himself, she added.
Baruch, spied the billboards, new
films, merchandise, drinks, cigarettes,
lowering his eyes, watching her sway

her hips and ****, hands swinging,
gesturing.  She stopped by a bench
and sat down, he did likewise, ears
catching her words, holding them in

his mind, something about them being
jealous of my sexuality she added,
giving Baruch the eye, maybe thinking
me a *****, a druggie slapper, she

said laughing, her hand rubbing against
the top of his, he sensing skin on skin,
remembering, the quickie in the side
room, cupboard size, just off the ward.

He talked of his boring job, the mind
numbing labours, the Coltrane jazz LP,
played on and on, he said, eyes closed.
She lay her head on his shoulder, he felt,

smelt the combination of expensive scent
and hospital smell (soaps or disinfectants),
felt her fingers rubbing his. She took out
a cigarette, offered him one, he took and

she lit up with red plastic lighter. Inhaled,
exhaled, inhaled, silence, her hand wrestled
with his, watching smoke rise, upwards,
twirling, in the hot summer spread skies.
Terry Collett Dec 2013
Milka followed Baruch
along the road
to his parent's house
and up the stairs

to his bedroom
she looking about her
as she climbed
won't your parent’s

be home?
she asked
no they're at work
he said

my mother until
half two
Milka nodded
and thought

of the bewilderment
if they came home
too soon
and what if they did?

they came to the landing
and he showed her
the single bed
by the wall

next to another
by the window
whose bed is that?
she asked

my brother's
Baruch said
he's away
oh

she said looking
at the single bed
by the wall
with the blue bed cover

well?
he said
what do you think?
she looked at the bed

and then at Baruch
it's a bit narrow
she said
it'll be ok

he said
unless you don't want to
he said
she bit her lip

are you sure
no one
will be back early?
sure as sure

he said
he took in
her bright eyes
the hair

shoulder length
and well groomed
the yellow
tight fitting top

and blue jeans
she looked by him
at the window
can anyone see us?

he looked out
the window
I’ll close the curtains
he said

she looked at him there
eyes wide open
and alert
his black jeans

and white shirt
you don't have to
he said
just thought

that after last time
in the barn
it would be better here
she nodded

that was a bit
uncomfortable
she said smiling
hay and straw

in my *******
when I got home
he smiled
yes and that mouse

that ran over
my backside
she laughed
and relaxed

and I screamed
she said
he nodded
and looked at her

standing there
by the bed
we don't have to
if you'd rather not

he said
she looked at him
and said
I want to

it's just the anxiety
that your parents
will come home
and catch us

he stroked her hair
they won't
he said
I'd not risk it

if I thought
they'd be home early
she sat on the bed
and he sat next to her

she kicked off her shoes
and he did so too
she looked at him again
then  stood up

and unzipped her jeans
and took them off
and laid them
on the other bed

he did like wise
she took off the top
over her head
and placed it on top

of her jeans
he took off his shirt
and put it on top
of his jeans

then she unclipped
her bra
and threw it
to the other bed

he stood there
gazing at her
small mounds
the brownish dugs

she removed
her pink *******
and flicked them
to the bed

by the window
where they rested
by the windowsill
he took off his briefs

and threw them over
by his jeans
she breathed out
deeply and slowly

he put a hand
on right breast
felt the softness
ran his fingers

over the dug
she smiled
and touched his pecker
then she lay down

on the bed
and he lay beside her
his hand touching
her thigh

and she saw
the sunlight
through
the uncurtained window

in the bright
midday sky.
A boy and girl prepare for their second ****** adventure.
Terry Collett Mar 2014
Fay rubs her
rosary
between thumb

and finger
the black beads
holding prayers

but she thinks
they also
bring comfort

to her heart
usually
when her dad

loses it
and hits out
because she'd

forgotten
the Latin
of the Creed

mispronounced
Latin prayers
Baruch said

(the Jew boy
from downstairs)
your old man

doesn't know
the essence
of his faith

just the shell
of it all
Baruch said

God was one
for each and all
for the big

and the small
for the good
and the bad

for the wise
and the fool
her father

doesn't like
young Baruch
and forbids

her to talk
or see him
but she does

and meets him
secretly
for their talks

and their walks
in the park
at the old

cinema
Fay puts her
rosary

in the small
cloth pocket
of her dress

her fingers
leaving there
the small but
special prayer.
CATHOLIC GIRL AND JEWISH BOY IN LONDON IN 1950S
Terry Collett Apr 2014
Yehudit stood
by the window
of the bedroom
looking out

at the garden below
Baruch  lay
on the bed
taking in

her figure
standing there
after having
made love

in his bed
I like your apple orchard
she said
the blossom

makes it
so beautiful
not as beautiful
as you

he said
taking in
her nakedness
the sunlight touching

her profile
she smiled
the blossom
is more beautiful

than I am
she said
come back to bed
he said

she turned
and walked back
to the bed
and lay beside him

I’ll have to go soon
she said
your mother
will be returning

from her work soon
he watched her eyes
the flush
about her skin

I know
he said
guess we best
get dressed

and I’ll walk you
back home
she kissed him
and he caressed her

and she ran a hand
along his thigh
shame we have to go
she said

he kissed her
and said
can't risk being here
when Mother returns

or she'll put
2 +2 and come up
with 5
Yehudit sighed

and moved off
the bed
and began to dress
into her underclothes

and orange flower
patterned dress
he got up
and began to get dressed

looking at her nakedness
disappear into clothes
the memory
of their love making

fresh in his mind
her apple scent
her body supple
her peasant look

her simplicity
the kissing
the holding
the bodies interacting

ready?
he asked
she nodded
and they went down

the stairs
and out the back door
and along the path
by the apple orchard

and out the back gate
into the woods
there was birdsong
and a warm air

and smell of the farm  
beyond the woods
back to work tomorrow
she said

my half day
spent making love
they kissed
and he walked her

through the woods
to her house
along the small road
at the edge of the field

by the farmed land
he holding her
peasant
warm hand.
A BOY AND GIRL AFTER *** IN 1963.
Terry Collett Nov 2013
During boring
school lessons
he looks across
at Yehudit at her desk

takes in her brown hair
shoulder length
her profile
the eyes

nose
and how she sits
her large bust
her pen in hand

writing
and the teacher writing
on the board
boring stuff

time wasting scribbling
he watches her
her head bent
intent on the work

and thinks
of that time
by the pond
in the wood

he lying there
on the grass
sun above his head
and she came

and sat beside him
her peasant simplicity
overwhelming him
her show of leg

as she moved closer
her eyes large
and fire filled
and he told her

about the large butterfly
he'd seen in the woods
red and black
and white tips

and as he spoke
she touched his thigh
moved her hand along it
her fingers doing

that walking thing
on the jeans
and he proceeded
with the butterfly talk

as her fingers
walked deeper
and pressed and pressured
and he said

OK so the butterfly
isn't the most
intense subject
but hey

what are you doing
with the walking?
raising an interest
she said

and he said
two can play
at that game
and touched her leg

the soft flesh
moving his hand
just beneath
her skirt

warm and silky
and now once
you've written
that down

the teacher says
dragging Baruch
from his day dream
of memories

I'll talk about
the exports and imports
of the nation
and so he goes on

but Baruch
is only half listening
he studies Yehudit's hands
how they join together

as if in prayer
elbows on the desk
her chin resting
on the finger tips

and how her knees touch
issuing from the skirt
beneath the desk
and that time

he kissed her
under the full moon
and he howled afterwards
like some hound

and she laughed
and it echoed
around trees
and they kissed again

dismissing
the November rain.
BOY AND GIRL IN LOVE IN 1962.
Terry Collett Dec 2014
The ward is still
and quiet.

Yiska slips
out of bed
and tiptoes
to the window
and looks out
at the coming dawn.

A few snores
and moans of sleep
are behind her
from the other beds.

She feels empty.

She wants something
to matter,
but nothing does,
not the dawn light,
not the other patients
in their beds,
not she herself.

A light filters through
the trees outside.

The sun is weak,
the moon is fading.

She pulls the nightgown
tight around her.

The carpeted floor
beneath her feet
is cold.

She feels tired,
but cannot sleep;
sleep seems elusive
as if
it were hiding
from her.

The night nurse
is in the small office
off the ward.

She is typing.

The tap tap
of her fingers
on the keys.

She hears the tap tap.

She wishes Baruch
was there.

He is asleep
in the men's ward.

Sometimes they meet
at this window
and watch
the dawn come.

Last time they talked
in hushed voices.

How are you?

Low.

Me, too.

Have you tried to hang
yourself recently?

No, not recently.

That caused panic
the last time.

I wasn't aware.

I was; nurses
running around
like headless chickens.

Baruch had smiled.

Didn't think
of consequences.

There are always
consequences.

He nodded at the window.

You slit
your wrists again?

She looked
at her bandaged wrists.

Yes, but did it wrong,
so they told me.

He stroked
her bandaged wrists
with his thumb gently.

Why?

Why what?

Why do it?

Same reason as you,
I guess.

Yes guess so.

Now her wrists
are unbandaged.

Baruch sleeps.

She is alone.

The nurse still taps.

Someone whimpers
in their dream.

The ward
is still and quiet.

She slips back along
to her bed
and lays there
counting sheep.

But still no sleep.
ON A FEMALE PATIENT IN A PSYCHIATRIC WARD IN 1971.
Terry Collett Aug 2013
The charge nurse closes
the door behind Yiska.
Can I go home? Not yet.
When? When you are

well enough. I am well
enough. We think not.
Who are we? The nurses
and the doctors and I,

think you are not well
enough. But I feel well
enough. You are on the
inside looking out, we

are on the outside of
you looking in. So? We
see things from a much
different angle. But I feel

well. Feelings can betray.
But I feel well. You think
you are well. I am. We think
not. But what do you know?

We are professionals. But
I know what I feel inside.
The charge nurse taps his
pen on the desk, Yiska coldly

stares at him. You tried to
cut your wrists. Tried yes,
but I stopped. Not soon
enough. I am here aren’t I?

The fact you decided to
cut your wrists says you
are unwell. It was how I
felt then. Feelings again.

It was a dark time. Wait
until you are better when
the dark days have gone.
You mean ECT? It helps.

Not me. Some it does.
Not me though. We saw
Improvement, we think.
You think? We professionals.

I get headaches. Side effect.
I feel sick afterwards. More
side effect. Yiska screws
her hands in her lap. The

charge nurse stares at her.
You mix well with Baruch.
He’s kind. He’s a patient.
He is unwell like you. I like

him. He has his problems.
Don’t we all? He will not
help you. You don’t help
me. He will not. I like him.

So we are informed. You
spy? We watch. Spy. We
need to watch all of our
patients. I want to go.

When you are well. Now
I want to leave here.
The hospital? Yes. No.
The room then. Here.

Yes. Ok. Yiska gets up
from the chair. The
charge nurse sits there
watching her. She draws

her nightgown tightly
about her as she leaves
the room. We are still
watching you and Baruch.

Yiska says nothing. The
door closes. She sighs.
The charge nurse folds
his fingers over his large

paunch and stares at the
door and folds away his
captured image of her
naked as he has before.
Terry Collett Apr 2015
O Miss Pinkie said – she dropped the Mrs once her divorce came through although being a Catholic it didnt amount to much- if I could have my life over again and had the wisdom I have now and a lot of understanding of the human machine Id have lived differently and not married the **** I  did but there you go we must live forward and not backward although at times we wish we could but we cant so there you are and as a child coming from a strict Catholic family church going and the Mass were our Sundays highlight or so it seemed at the time and the priest as often at our house as a neighbour or a member of the close family and would come and sit and drink and eat and say things about others and how so and sos daughter had gone by the  wayside and needed taking in hand and my father said any daughter his going by any wayside would get a good tanning of their backside and the priest saying that is a way going from homes now but my father said not here Father not here and it was true as my sister knew as she was many a time feeling his hand on her backside if she step out of line and me too now and then and my mother stood in his shadow and said do as your father says and would shake a finger at us if she thought we were out of step with our fathers wishes and a cousin wanted to join the Little Sisters and encouraged me to go too and talked me into it when I was old enough and with my fathers blessing- blessing being his agreement or his say so- and he said I know what men are like youre better off there with the Sisters than with with some of the specimens around here in Glasgow to wed and bed so I joined the Little Sisters as did the cousin and were set to become brides of Christ but I couldnt settle to it never had the vocation for the life what with all those maidens and their narrow views and the cousin went first and within a month or two was out with a man named Scott and before you could say hows your ***** off for spots she was up the aisle dressed in the white with the thin rod of a man beside her and within a seventh month she dropped a babe- his we assumed- and then just before I was due to take my simple vows I left too much to my fathers annoyance and being put out by it he said nothing to me for months on end turned his back on me if I entered the house- lived after leaving with my cousin her her thin man and the babe in a room in the attic- but he came around and knowing he could no more put me over his knee he used his words to have a go at me if I stepped beyond his likes then I met the man who was to be and was my husband and on the first date- the cinema where else- it was kiss kiss and fiddle fiddle in the back rows with others also so inclined and after a few weeks he had me in his bed-he lived in digs as he called them- and I knew nothing then about *** or anything relating to that side of matters and I was surprised by what he was doing and where and how and I said is this how it is? and he said it was and had always been so and so it was and I got to enjoy it after the first few times and then we had our child a boy and then my husband got a job away a lot and then he started having it with other women or girls while away and I had it fewer and fewer times until one day I found out about them all and I said no more with me and he said good and left and that was it and I brought up our son on my own until he left home to get a job abroad and I was alone and began needing to work myself having no husband to support me and it was there that my met young Baruch-Benedict he called himself but I liked Baruch better- and at first I never thought about him and *** and that because he was nineteen years younger than I was and I was old enough to be his mother but he had that way with him and he said can I come to your place I want to read you some my my writings and so I said yes and he came and I gave him whiskey or wine and I put on music on the record player and he read his work and I watched him read and sensed him near me and the drink softened him up and the music got to him and he said I need you and I said in what way? he said in what way and I went and undressed and came back in a kimono and he said I looked like a Japanese woman he once saw in a book and he drank more and then he undressed and so it began almost every other night after work in the evenings hed come around and we had drinks and he brought some Mahler and  we played that and it became our love music and he had me in ways id not been had before and played at spanking me prior to ******* me- as he called it- and it reminded me of my father- the spankings not the *** of course- and it made me tingle and sometimes it was on my double bed often or not if we couldnt make it on the sofa with the Mahler symphony blaring away and the glasses empty and him over me and I eyeing him or closing my eyes imagining him and sometimes he was underneath me and it was him and me and Mahler and his hand on my behind and him in me and hed say come on come on and I was becoming out of breath feeling my age or so it seemed then he met some young girl and that was it I was alone again and sat listening to Mahler and I drank my ***** thinking of him knowing he would leave after all he was just a boy I was getting to be older but wanting to recall our nights together and Mahler and whiskey and that time we had it on the carpet the carpet soft and thick and he saying wheres the fence where can we ride? and we laughed and that time at work in the wash room where I got him stiff as a rifle and ready to shoot but it was too public and he had to walk it off but then he left work and it became a mere echo of former days my hair less dyed letting my hairs become different coloured greys.
A WOMAN AND HER REFLECTION ON HER LIFE AND *** AND MEN IN 1974 AND  BEFORE.
Rapping is the sound of words
The truth comes out when it happens
I can rap around my friends and cannot rap around my parents
I do not want to hurt them
I pray to god they can help me be a better artist everyday

Thank You,

Baruch Hashem
Rythm & Poetry
alex furlin Oct 2012
I derive from arriving on time
Slime time live was the time of my life
The law of the land was a handful of sand
A snowman grayer than white but still alright

I’m from liquid firepower
Super effective critical hit
Killing members of my brother’s mouth
Killing myself
when my best friend moved south

I’m from AP tests and honors society
In a society that does not honor AP tests
imagine my anxiety

I’m from accidents happen
just when you think they aren’t gonna happen

I’m not from the football field
I’m not from the church
I’m not from a world concealed
because of these answers I search

I’m from baruch atah adonai
Elohaynu melech ha’alom
Nine fires at night and crossless walls
Perfect circle spectacles and
never using public stalls

I’m from the school of thought
that thinks about school
Dreaming of the western bay
You ask where I’m from?

I’m from every single yesterday
Terry Collett Oct 2013
It's been two years
since Baruch saw Yehudit
for the first time
on the school bus

that long
since that first kiss
that Christmas
under that moon

and stars
now as she turns
from the window
she says

what time will your mother
be home?
about 50 minutes
he says

on the bus?
yes on the bus
he answers
she stands there naked

the sunlight coming
over shoulders
and lighting up
her brown hair

she looks at him
lying there on the bed
hands behind his head
he searches her eyes

the blueness of them
the heaviness
of her *******
the love bites

the peasantness
the broadness of hips
have we time for more?
she asks

maybe
he says
she moves to the bed
and climbs up beside him

and lays her head
on his chest
I would never have dreamed
of this last year

she says
she kisses his stomach
lips damp warm
he strokes her shoulder

runs a finger
along her spine
she giggles
kisses him more

what would your mother say
if she found us thus?
he asks
don't think of it

she says
she lies beside him
he kisses her breast
softly

slowly
she turns towards him
runs a finger
down his thigh

he senses her movement
she imagines her mother
coming up the stairs
the heavy stomp

the booming voice
a smacking hand
she lies on her back
senses his movement

she embraces him
her hands knotted
behind him
he hears the dog bark

downstairs
he freezes
what's up?
she asks

earlier bus
he replies
he slips from the bed
and runs to the window

his mother is walking up
the road from the bus stop
quick
he says

she's coming
who?
she says
lying there

with a vacant stare
my mother's coming
quick dress
out the back door

the space of time
the movement of bodies
his mother's slow pace
towards the house

the dog barking louder
semi clothed
Yehudit runs with items
out the back door

with Baruch behind
along the back path
by orchard and logs
out the back gate

she in front
clutching shoes
and stockings
he watching

as he runs
her peasant body
swaying
like a mighty ship

on perilous seas
and storing away
as he runs
everything he sees.
Terry Collett Jul 2013
Chana, having made love
with young Baruch, went
to get more wine. Did she
need to get another? She

thought, she was old enough
to be his mother. The LP of
Bruckner he had brought
still played on the hifi; she

preferred Mahler’s fifth.
The kitchen light had a
mellow glow. She poured
more wine into the two

glasses and returned to
the bed. He was laid there
like some young prince,
proud and youthful, head

full of ideas, morals gone
to the wind, seemed happy
to have had her and sinned.
She put down the glasses

and climbed into bed. Him
and his Marxism, she thought
as he talked of Das Kapital.
She placed her hand on his

pecker, life enough yet,
stirred, moved. She could
smell the *** in him; the stir
of a young stallion. Her long

ago husband was never like
this even in his youth; she
was well rid of him, him and
those airhostesses, those

whom he said he had quite oft
and where. She smiled at young
Buruch lying there wine in hand
talking of a revolution that would

never come, his pecker stirring,
his words becoming slurred with
the taking of wine. That first time
he had her on the sofa; oh, that

took her back some. He drained
his glass, put on the side. He was
young enough to be her son, she
mused, watching him stir and

prepare, her young stallion with
hazel eyes and dark brown hair.
Terry Collett May 2014
You used to ride that bike
through these woods
Yehudit said
no tyres

no brakes
a ****** saddle
that almost
castrated you

Baruch laughed
yeah and I could get up
quite a speed
on that thing

and almost break
your neck
she said
they had just

made love
in the old shed
where he used
to store the old bike

he lay on his back
gazing at cobwebs
and leaves caught
in old spider webs

she lay on her side
staring at his profile
I loved that old bike
it was a death trap

she said
he smiled
yeah guess it was
she kissed

his naked thigh
what would your mother say
if she saw you
here now?

he asked
don't ask
she said
before kissing his hip

you know there's
probably mice in here
he said
she sat up

and looked around
where?
how the heck
do I know

he said
he turned and gazed
at her figure
in the half light

the semi light
caught one ***
caressed it
as if

an art piece
spiders too
he added
just to see

her reaction
she looked
on the floor
covered in dead leaves

and twigs
and his old coat
laid out there
I miss that old bike

he said
studying the touch
of light
on her head

seemingly
slicing her face
into two
one in shadow

one in light
what happened to it?
she asked
moving leaves

to satisfy herself
no mice or spiders
were there
Breathwaite kid took it

and it got broke up
Baruch said
she lay on her back
her head

on her folded coat
do people
still come here?
she asked

don’t know
he said
not seen anyone here
in a while

he kissed her cheek
in shadow
she moved towards him
moving her hand

along his thigh
she moved
into shadow
out of light of his eye.
BOY AND GIRL IN A WOODLAND SHED IN 1960S.
words fail to express how much i need You.
i need You with hunger and thirst unexplainable and unable to be felt with just human need.
a deep yearning and groaning to welcome You, oh Holy Spirit.
i need You as a child needs their Father.
i am weak and lost without You.
wandering,
wondering if it's ever enough.
but it's only ever enough when it's You, Jesus.
my dear Savior,
my heart desperately longs to beat for You.
my dear God,
whom have i in heaven or on earth?
my desire belongs to You.
Baruch Habah B'Shem Adonai.
blessed is He who comes in the name of the LORD.
Jesus is the only way to be saved. no amount of good works, will grant you favor or pardoning on the day of judgement. the sacrifice for your shame has been paid. paid in the blood of Jesus Christ--the one to whom every knee will bow and every tongue shall confess.
Amen!
Terry Collett Jul 2013
You rode bikes with Milka
to the bridge over the river
and stood looking down
at the flowing water

and talked
of the latest
Elvis Presley film
you’d seen

and she said that she
had wanted to see it
but her mother
had forbidden it

saying it was not
the type of film
for her age
then you talked

of the film you’d seen
while working
as a cinema projectionist
called Ben Hur

and the great
chariot races in it
she leaned close to you
as you talked

her hands
on the brick bridge
her hips pressing
gently against yours  

she said she like it
when you came
to their farmhouse
and practised judo

with her brothers
and she could watch
and as she spoke
you studied her

her short fair hair
her large blue eyes
her delicate hands
the fingertips rubbing

against the bricks
of the bridge
the simple
green shift dress

she had on
and do you remember
that time you had them
both on the grass at once

in that karate fight?
she said excitedly
and you noticed
maybe

for the first time
her small firm bust
her figure
kind of huggable

although you hadn’t
hugged her
and she went on
about wanting to go

out with you
but her brothers
had said
Baruch won’t be

interested in you
he likes pretty girls
and you looked
at her eyes

as she spoke
how large they were
yet not unbeautiful
the orbs blue

portraying
wide worlds of you
and how old are you?
she asked

because they
keep saying
you’re too old
for me

16
you said
well
she said

I’m 14
so that isn’t
too old is it?
no

you said
seeing her eyes look
kind of watery
like small fish bowls

then she talked
of having seen you
in her dreams
and that in her dreams

you had kissed her
where did I kiss you?
you asked
on the lips of course

she said
no I meant
where abouts
was I when I kissed you?

o
she said blushing
in the barn
by the farmhouse

o I see
you said
never having been
there with her

only with her brothers
to do judo fights
she looked down
at the water

her eyes wide
and watery
a bird flew by
a bird song sounded

you leaned close to her
and kissed
her ear
through her

fair hair
and she looked at you
and you saw
new worlds

being born there
amongst the blue
Milka smiling
at an older you.
Liberally speaking when were gone this will be left.
Bull Moose
Baruch Hashem
I know now there are artists
They find beauty in the simple things
They give me strength and power to continue
My fellow artist

Thank you,

Baruch Hashem
Get High

— The End —