After School Walk
After lessons at junior school
coming down the bricks stairs
Helen said
can I walk home with you?
Sure
you replied
and she set off with you
along St George's Road
the traffic and smoke fumes
setting the scene
she in her school frock
and cardigan
and white ankle socks
beside you in your grey jacket
and grey short trousers
and she said
I don't usually walk home alone
but mum said I can walk home
with you save her coming along
to the school with the other kids
and pram with baby
you took in
her two plaits of hair
and thin framed glasses
with large lens
which made her eyes
larger than they were
her small hands
by her side
a small school bag
over her shoulder
and did you know
Janice likes you?
Her grandmother
told my mother
the other day
after school
but I like you better
do you like me?
she asked
you noticed
she had small white teeth
with a thin brace
along the top
sure I do
you replied
I like Janice too
but you I like more
and she smiled
and put her right hand
in yours and squeezed it
and you smiled
but hoped none
of the other boys around
noticed the hand holding
after all a tough boy
has a reputation to maintain
and as you squeezed
her hand back
clouds darkened
and it started
to piss with rain.
poem by Terry Collett
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Related quotes
You and Jackson Pollock.
How's the girl
with the red beret?
your sister asked
she'd seen you
and Janice
and her gran
on the way home
from school
she probably walking
with her friend
following behind
and Janice said
I made a picture today
out of cut up
pieces of paper
and the teacher said
it was the best
she'd seen
her gran said
Now now Janice
mustn't boast
I expect
there were other pictures
equally as good
But teacher said it
not me
Janice replied
Did you make a picture?
her gran asked you
her eyes falling on you
and taking in
your look
like a rabbit caught
in headlamps of a car
in the night
Yes
you said
I made a picture
of a morning sunset
out of red and yellow
and green for the grass
and blue for the sky
Janice smiled
and touched your hand
surreptitiously
her small hand
feeling along
your skin
Did you make it
out of cut up
pieces of paper too?
her gran asked
you sensed Janice's fingers
squeezing into your hand
No
you replied
I did it with water colour paints
and what did teacher say?
her gran asked
she said it reminded her
of a Jackson Pollock
whoever he is
you said
looking at Janice's red beret
and her hair
coming from beneath
so wonderfully
unlike your
short back and sides
and unlike her hair
with its red coloured
hair slides.
poem by Terry Collett
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Young Traitor
Gran said
you can come with us
to the fair
Janice said
Provided your mum agrees
of course but Gran's
already asked your mum
so it's all right
you stood outside
the school gates
waiting for your mother
to come and pick you up
and so you said
Oh right that'll be good
but you didn't want Helen
to know you were going
to the fair with Janice
and even though
you hadn't planned it
or asked for it
you still felt guilty
about going
with Janice to the fair
and when Helen
came out of school
and stood waiting
next to you
for her mother
you hoped Janice
wouldn't say
anything about it
but Janice just stood there
smiling looking at Helen
as if to say he's going with me
to the fair and you're not
and Helen gazed at Janice
at the same time
putting her hand
near yours
and you could feel
her hand brush
against yours
and then she turned
and looked at you
through her
thick lens glasses
her eyes searching you
like a navigator
looking for a fresh route
to a new world
and Janice moved closer
on your other side
her hand seeking out
a finger to hold
and she said
Look here comes Gran
and she released
your finger and ran
and you stood with Helen
waiting
knowing her hand
was warm and feeling yours
and hoping she couldn't
read minds
or thoughts
or know about the fair
and she said suddenly
giving your hand a squeeze
Here's your mum and mine
let's go meet them
and off you ran
following behind
feeling a sense of betrayal
being a traitor to Helen
in your 7 year old mind.
poem by Terry Collett
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Janice and You and the Spider
You stood
in the playground
of St Jude's school
which was really
the basement
of a bombed out house
which had been gutted
and the basement tarmaced
and the walls
were still there
where kids climbed up
and around
the thin ledge
when Janice
put her hands
over your eyes
and said
guess who?
and you put
your hands
into the pockets
of your short trousers
and said
Miss Murphy
or Miss Ashdown?
no
Janice said
it's me
and she removed
her hands
from over your eyes
and you turned around
and looked at her
and she had
her red beret on
and a pink scarf
around her neck
to keep out
the cold
you must
have known
it was me
she said
who else
would put their hands
over your eyes?
her eyes were bright
and you thought
you could see yourself
in them
as if they were small mirrors
Jupp might do
or maybe Carmody
you said smiling
she didn't smile back
but pulled her lips
tight in a line
then she took your hand
and pulled you
along the path
that led
to the school toilets
and pushed you
inside a cubicle
and shut the door
behind you both
and said
don't you love me?
there was a large spider
hanging from
the cistern chain
close to
her red beret
and it hung there
suspended
swaying back
and forth
and you said
of course I do
right down
to your white socks
but there's a spider
above your head
and she looked up
and screamed
and a voice
outside the door
asked
are you all right
in there?
Janice's eyes widened
and she watched
as the spider
moved up the chain
and she said
yes it's all right
Miss Murphy
just a small spider
and you stood there
next to Janice
wondering what
Miss Murphy
would say
if she saw you
and Janice
in the lavatory
together
and the voice said
ok as long
as you
are all right
and the footsteps
moved away
and Janice took
your hand in hers
and you sensed
how cold it was
slightly blue
and it was just
9 year old Janice
and the big spider
and 9 year old you.
poem by Terry Collett
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At Helen's for Tea.
After school
Helen's mother took you home to tea
and she was wheeling
the big pram along the pavement
with you on one side
and Helen on the other
and she said
hold onto the pram
while we cross the roads
I don't want anything
to happen to you
and as you crossed
the busy roads
you kept glancing over
at Helen with her plaited hair
parted in the middle
and her thin wired glasses
and her raincoat
buttoned tight
against the wind
and her small hand
clutching the pram handle tightly
and beside you
Helen's mother
short and stocky
pushing and puffing
and her eyes dark as night
and kind at the same time
and when you reached their home
and went inside
and she took off your coat
you went with Helen
into the sitting room
with a coal fire blazing
and the smell
of drying clothes
and past dinners
and Helen said
do you want to see my dolls
and the doll's house
my daddy made
out of boxwood
with lights you can turn off and on?
sure ok
you said
and you followed her
into her bedroom
where her toys and dolls
were laid up along the wall
next to her bed
and she took up a doll
and held her out to you
and said
this is my favourite
this is Jenny
and you said
hi Jenny how you doing?
and Helen smiled
her slightly goofy smile
and you liked that
her smile
and her eyes large as duck eggs
behind the thick lens
and she handed the doll
to you to hold
and you held the doll
and kissed the head
and hugged it close
thinking glad the other boys
can't see me now
here with this girl
and kissing and holding
the darn doll
out of some small boy love
and shyness
and you know
they'd laugh out loud
and point their tough boy fingers
and you're glad
they aren't there
just Helen
and her little girl love and kindness
against their rough ways
and small boy toughness.
poem by Terry Collett
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Helen Wiped Her Glasses
Helen wiped
her thick lens glasses
with the hem
of her school dress
and you watched
her finger and thumb
move around the glass
in circular motion
Can you see much
without your glasses?
you asked
she looked up at you
and said
Not much
you for instance
are like a small tree
without leaves
with thin branches
hanging down
you smiled and saw
as she lifted the hem
a glimpse of thigh
white as one kept
out of sun and light
But what do I look like
with your glasses on?
you asked
looking at her face
and eyes that squinted
quite naked
without the specs
A boy who's cheeky
but often shy
especially around girls
and their blue eyes
and dark curls
and she giggled
and dropped
the hem of
her dress
and put her glasses on
and her eyes enlarged
and gazed at you
taking in
your unkempt hair
and school boy grin
and at that moment
as she stood stifling
her giggle with one
small hand
you sensed a love
you neither had before
nor could
in the light of day
and innocence of youth
quite understand.
poem by Terry Collett
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In Mrs Clarke's Wake
Mrs Clarke pushed
her battered bassinet
between market stalls
not listening
to the stallholder's
shouts and calls
Helen walked behind her mother
as told holding your hand
So I know where you are
Mrs Clarke had said
you sensed
Helen's small hand
in yours
her seven year old skin
touching your
seven year old flesh
her thin fingers
encircling yours
We'll see if they've got
a school skirt
for you here
her mother said
turning back her head
Helen nodded
and you noticed
Helen's enlarged eyes
behind her thick lens
spectacles
searching her mother's
large behind waddling on
stopping now and then
beside stalls
picking up clothes
searching for a skirt or dress
grey and the right size
Helen whispered to you
putting her head
close to yours
Rice pudding for tea
when we get home
with red jam
and sugar too
if you want
and she smiled
and you said shyly
That's good
because I'm starving
she looked at your hand
in hers and said
Then we can play
mums and dads
and my dolls
can be our family
her mother stopped
and picked up a skirt
and held it up
to the light
then held it against
her daughter's waist
judging for size
and you watched
her mother's hands
red with washing
and cleaning
thinking and gauging
the size and cost
as you studying
Helen's hand in yours
like a soul lost.
poem by Terry Collett
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Prettier Than Helen.
Janice you thought
prettier than Helen
more refined
whose voice
was softly spoken
as if her words
had been fresh baked
in an oven
in her mouth
and her hair fair
and well groomed
but Helen had
that down to earthiness
that brought her
closer to you
and something about
her thin framed
thick lens glasses
made her seem
more lovable
to your boyish world
and she stared at you
through them
and smiled
that shy smile
and said things
with a rough edge
as if she'd bounced
the words around
before she uttered them aloud
you can come to tea
and we'll have bread and jam
and a big mug of tea
or if mum's remembered
lemonade
she said at playtime
in the playground
out of hear shot
of the other boys
who kicked ball
or who swapped cards
or threw marbles
along the ground
or fought battles
with imaginary swords
or shot pretend bullets
from rat-a-tat guns
and she said
to entice you more
you can see my new doll
my dad brought back
from the store
ok
you said
sure
and she smiled
and her nose creased up
and her glasses moved
and some small place
in your chest thumped
like furniture being dropped
or a bed being bounced
in some small hotel
and you watched her
go off to play skip rope
that thin framed
thick lens glasses
working-class
school girl.
poem by Terry Collett
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After School Tea.
Mother said
you were to go back
to Mrs Clark's house
for tea after school
and she would pick
you up later
after work
and so when
the bell went
for the end
of the school day
you went with Mrs Clark
and her daughter Helen
for tea and Mrs Clark
talked all the way
to her house
her words rough
as hewn stones
going over your head
to which you just nodded
or shook your head
and when you arrived
at the house
which smelt
of past dinners
and washing drying
and the baby's nappies
she said
What would you like for tea?
Bread and butter
bread jam
bread and Bovril
or dripping?
and how about
a large mug of tea?
Helen said
I'm having bread and jam
and a mug of tea
why don't you too?
you said
Yes that will be fine
and shyly sat in a chair
by the window
looking out
at the backyard
where washing hung
on a clothesline
and an old doll's pram
sat rusting by a wall
and Helen came
and sat next to you
in her grey skirt
and off white blouse
and swung her legs
back and forth
under the chair
her white ankle socks
and black scuffed shoes
coming in
and going out
of view
and she said
After tea
I'll show you my dolls
and the doll's house
my daddy made
out of orange boxes
and as Mrs Clark
made the tea
you sensed Helen's small hand
run along your arm
which set alarm bells ringing
in your head
and a sweating in your palm.
poem by Terry Collett
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An Angel's Touch
It was Wednesday morning service
in the church next to the school
and Helen sat next to you
in the old wooden pew
her eyes peering
behind her thick lens glasses
at you and she whispered
your mum's meeting my mum
in the street market after school
and then we're going to my house
for a cup of tea
and I can show you
my doll's house
that my dad made
out of an orange box
and it's got lights
and everything
you leaned your head
towards her and said
in a low voice
oh right yes that'll be good
hoping none of your mates
could hear
especially Cogan
who only the other week
threatened to bloody your nose
but he didn't show after school
and she smiled
and you looked at the altar
where the vicar
was lighting candles
and Mrs Murphy
was walking down the aisle
like an aging storm trooper
in her hand knitted cardigan
and brown pleated skirt
Helen whispered
and you can see
the tiny furniture
I've got too
that my mum bought
from a second hand shop
off the market
you looked at her
sitting there
in her grey jumper
and white blouse
and grey skirt
and her plaited hair
parted in the middle
and her bright eyes
magnified by the glass lens
and you said
I look forward to it
and she rubbed your hand
with hers
and then looked ahead
at the lighted candles
and sniffed in the incense
in the air and her hand
moved to pick up
a hymn book
and you sensed where
her hand had been
like some angel's touch
as if to bless
well that's what
it seemed like to you
more or less.
poem by Terry Collett
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Christina and You and Home for Lunch
As you went by
the girl's playground
after getting off
the school bus
Christina called to you
through the wire fence
and said
my mother said
you can come home
for lunch today
if you like
ok
you said
where shall I meet you?
Cedric will bring you along
she said
and so when
the lunch time
recess bell rang
you followed Cedric
out of the school
and saw Christina
by the outer fence waiting
are you sure
your mother doesn't mind?
you asked
of course not
she said
Cedric walked on in front
leaving you and Christiana
to walk on behind
she talked about some girl
in her class who had a boyfriend
and claimed
to have had sex
and then she went on
about the teacher
who had been expelled
for taking pupils home
in his lunch hour
it was boys though
she added
and then you came
to her house
and she took you in
and there was her mother
in the kitchen
nice to meet you
she said
Christina has talked
about you so much
Cedric behind
his mother's back
was making gagging gestures
with his fingers
down his throat
Christina looked at you
and smiled
nice to be here
you said
are you sure it's all right
me coming?
of course it is
Christina's mother said
now sit down
and I'll serve up for us all
and so you all sat down
around the table
and Cedric looked at you
then looked down
at his knife and fork
and Christina said
glad you're here
and she put a hand
over yours
and gave your hand
a squeeze
then removed it
when her mother
set down the plates
and then sat down herself
and you all began to eat
in an unusual silence
Christina giving you
a bright eyed stare
and Cedric looking
over your shoulder
as if you weren't there
after lunch their mother
cleared the table
of plates and went off
and Cedric went
into the lounge
leaving you and Christina alone
what do you think?
she asked
about what?
you asked
my mother
what do you think of her?
she seems nice
you said
she gets depressed a lot
Christina said
but today
she was at her best
oh right
you said
sorry she gets depressed
come on
Christina said
I'll show you my room
you raised your eyebrows
won't your mother mind?
you asked
not if she doesn't know
Christina replied
isn't it a bit risky?
you said
yes
she said
that's what makes life
so interesting
so you followed her
and tiptoed up the stairs
and she showed you
her bedroom
and her favourite doll
and other favourites of hers
lined along her bed
then she kissed you quickly
and then stood back
and smiled and said
best go down now
or she'll wonder
where we are
and so that was it
and as you followed her
down the stairs
you could hear the radio
playing some classical music
and her mother
humming along
and sounding quite happy
and Christina giving you
another kiss
behind her mother's back
and after saying thank you
to her mother
you all left
to return to school
the clouds promising rain
and so back to school
and the boring lessons
once again.
poem by Terry Collett
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Fay and You and the Ruler.
Fay met you
on your way home
from school
standing by the entrance
of Meadow Row
she was in her school uniform
a satchel
over a shoulder
how was school?
she asked
boring and the day
too long
you replied
but at least
you can learn things
she said
like how
to make a candle
holder in woodwork?
finding some river
in India
I'll never see?
you said
she smiled shyly
well maybe you will
she said
how are you?
you asked
ok
she replied
got told off
by Sister Bernard
for not having a ruler
what did you do
with your ruler?
you asked
lost it
she said
ah well
there you are
you said
naughty naughty
she walked on
down Meadow Row
and you walked
beside her
actually
she said quietly
my daddy took it
she stood still
and stared at you
he beat me
with it
she said
in a whisper
you looked
into her eyes
and saw your
reflection there
two yous
staring back
why?
you asked
taking in her paleness
her fair hair tied
in a ponytail
he said l hadn't done
my jobs properly
jobs?
you asked
around the house
helping my mum
and did you? help?
yes usually
but I forgot
this time
big crime
you said
won't he give
the ruler back?
no
she said
he said he will keep it
as a lesson to me
can't you buy
a new one?
you asked
I haven't any money
she said
you can have
one of mine
you said
I have plenty at home
can I borrow one?
you can have one
she smiled weakly
her eyes lit up
and she took one
of your hands
and held it
I'll have to hide it though
she said
or he'll take
that one too
quite a guy your dad
you said
she looked away
at the bombed out houses
on the left hand side
you saw her hurt
and sadness
some things you can't hide.
poem by Terry Collett
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Back In The Days
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
I was very loud. [1]
I was very shy. [2]
I had a lot of friends, [1]
I had little friends, [2]
my parents were proud, [1]
my parents lived a lie. [2]
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
prom was coming next week. [1]
prom was soon coming up. [2]
Daddy bought me a dress, [1]
Momma took me to a shop, [2]
So nervous I couldn't breathe. [1]
bought me a black tux. [2]
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
I was the prettiest of them all. [1]
I wasn't noticed well. [2]
There's this boy I barely noticed, [1]
The prettiest girl in school... [2]
is so handsome and so tall. [1]
so pretty and so swell. [2]
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
he reached to hold my hand. [1]
I reached for her hand. [2]
As nervous as he was, [1]
My heart shook; my voice was weak, [2]
he asked me to the dance. [1]
I asked her to the dance. [2]
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
after the prom I got the news. [1]
I'm to go to war next week. [2]
He was drafted in the army, [1]
I wish there was a way, [2]
and to be sent off too soon. [1]
all I could do was pray. [2]
When I was in high school, [1]
When I was in high school, [2]
I watched him be taken away. [1]
I told her, 'I love you.' [2]
That tall and handsome man, [1]
Tears fell down her cheeks, [2]
is still in my heart to this day. [1]
her hand in marriage; can't take me away. [2]
poem by Heather Cropper
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Talk Over Tea.
Janice's gran
had left the room
to fetch another
pot of tea
and Janice said
Are you coming on
the day trip to the seaside?
I'm not sure
you replied
Oh please do
Janice said
Then we can be together
and I won't have to spend time
with those giggly girls
from the gospel group
you looked at her fair hair
and the way her eyes
were on you
and how precise
her lips were
when she spoke
I'm not sure my parents
can afford it
you said
Oh it's free for kids
whose parents are poor
she said
And after all
it's part of the point
of the whole thing
to show Christian values
and so on
and she smiled
and put her hand
on yours
under the table
as her gran came in
with the teapot
What are you two
talking about?
Gran asked
putting the teapot
down on the table
Janice's hand
squeezed yours
under the table
Oh just about the day trip
to the seaside
Janice said
Are you going too?
her gran asked you
you hesitated
and then said
Yes I think so
and Janice looked at you
her blue eyes bright
and she said
Isn't that good Gran?
Yes indeed
her gran said
and poured tea
into your cup
and added milk
and sugar
and Janice's hand
left yours
and the absence
of the warmth
of her hand
felt like
a dying world
in a vast galaxy
or drowning
in a deep blue sea.
poem by Terry Collett
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Outside the Cinema.
After tea
you went out
into the summer evening
without cowboy hat
or rifle
but your six shooter
tucked in the belt
of your jeans
to meet Helen
under the railway bridge
next to the Duke of Wellington
public house
I thought you weren't coming
Helen said
standing in her summer dress
and holding her favourite doll
Battered Betty
my horse refused to come
so I had to walk
you said
Helen smiled
my mum knows I'm with you
but I mustn't be out late
Helen said
where shall we go?
you asked
let's go and see
what's on at the cinema
Helen said
so you both walked
along the back streets
until you came
onto the main road
and studied the cinema billboards
I saw Davy Crockett here
you said
who's he?
Helen asked
he was a frontiersman
who fought Indians
and wore a bearskin hat
you said
was he here?
Helen asked
it was a film
you replied
oh
she said
she swung Battered Betty
behind her back
from hand to hand
I haven't been
to the pictures recently
mum said we can't afford it
what about Saturday matinee?
you asked
you could come to that
it's for kids only
and it's fun
Helen brought Battered Betty
into her arms
I'm not sure
she said
I could asked your mum
you said
I'd take care of you
I've got my six shooter
Helen put her hand
in your hand
and said
ok she'd listen to you
Helen said
you felt her hand in yours
and hoped no boys
who knew you
saw this or
the following
small lips kiss.
poem by Terry Collett
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A day of 1971
The school is three kilometers away.
Akmal was hastily walking towards the school as he was already late.
The school starts at midday.
Mother was insisting him on for long to go to the school.
But Akmal was little reluctant today.
He was experiencing something new in the whole surroundings.
His small psyche could not exactly guess what it was but something very strange was happening around him.
On his way to school Nepalda was chatting with some of his friends at a corner. Nepalda may be five to six years senior to Akmal.
Once Nepalda was Akmal’s house tutor.
Nepalda called Akmal, ‘Hey where are you going today? School? School is closed today. Don’t go’, declared he.
There was enough reason to believe Nepalda for Akmal. After all he was his teacher and he has a good reputation in the society. At least his parents consider Nepalda as a gentle young man.
When Nepalda was saying that the school is closed then he has no reason to proceed further. Yet to be sure he asked Nepalda, ‘Is it true? Our school is closed? ’
‘Yes, my boy. I am not joking with you. ’ Nepalda replied. Then he murmured, ‘Be careful. Go to home and remain in the home. Don’t come out. There may be some exchange of fire. We are ready….the army is advancing…we are ready to obstruct them…go home’.
Akmal understood nothing but he could guess that he has to return to home quickly.
It came to his mind that he did not do his home work today. So certainly he was going to be punished today if the school was open.
He was happy that the school is not open and today nobody will ask him to sit for study in the evening, he expected.
poem by Kazi Ahmed
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Not Always What We Seek
After you'd got on
the school bus
and sat down
in one of the side seats
Jane said
who did you fight with
in the playground
lunchtime?
Woolgar
you said
he pushed me over
against the wire fence
and I got up
and went for him
she looked disappointed
I didn't think
you could be violent
she said
I'm not usually
but it was an automatic
response to being
pushed over
you said
my daddy said
one should turn
the other cheek
especially if you're a Christian
she said softly
the school bus
started up
and took off down
the school drive
sorry
you said
but the creep
got under my skin
and if you let them
get away with it once
they'll always do it
she gazed at you
then out
of the window
at the passing shops
and buildings
of the town
were you watching?
you asked
yes I saw you
from the girl's playground
she muttered
not looking round
guess it looked
kind of bad
yes it did
she turned
and looked at you
but at least
you don't do it
all the time
she said
and touched
your hand
with hers
and you felt sad
inside that you'd
made her feel like that
and you saw
how lovely her
dark eyes were
how there seemed
to be a mini universe
in them with their own
galaxies and stars
and moons
next time I'll think twice
you said
before hitting
the other boy
she nodded
and smiled
and her hand
squeezed yours
her skin soft and warm
her hair black
and drawn back
into a ponytail
sitting there
beside you
her grey school skirt
and jumper
and white blouse
the neck open
the sight
of her throat
and you wanting
to kiss but not doing so
her neck
her skin
the feel
of her hair
against your cheek
sometimes
you thought
we can't have
what we seek.
poem by Terry Collett
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Unexpected Father.
Your mother
had brought Helen
home for tea after school
and she had held on
to the handle
of the pram
your mother pushed
and you walked
along side
thinking of whether
to show her
your toy soldiers
and cowboys and Indians
and the guns
that fired
loud banging caps
or whether to just sit
and watch the TV
and eat your tea
and show her nothing
but once you got home
and your mother went off
to the kitchen to prepare
the tea stuff and such
Helen looked at you
and shyly smiled
and said
Can I see your sister's dolls
and pram
and does she have
a doll's house
I could play with?
you dismissed the idea
of showing her
the guns that fired caps
or your toy soldier collection
and took her
into the room
where you kept the toys
and pointed to
your sister's dolls
and the pram
and said
Take care
my sister doesn't like
people messing
with her stuff
and Helen nodded
and picked up a doll
and held it to her chest
and rocked it
to and fro
and walked up and down
murmuring there there sounds
that echoed softly
around the room
Where's your sister?
Helen asked
will she mind me
rocking the baby to sleep?
Guess not
you replied
and stood watching her
as she walked
and talked to the doll
in an undertone
and you stood there
hands in pockets
like a father
of an unexpected child
wondering what to say
or do and taking in
her thick lens glasses
and her eyes
seemingly enlarged
focusing on the doll
and the way her head
moved from side to side
so that her plaited hair
went from side to side
and up and down
and she said softly
and suddenly
We may have a baby like this
one day and you had better
say something more
than you are now
or I'll think
you didn't want it
and off she walked
up and down the room
and hoped your mother
would come soon
and save you from the fate
of being the father
of a doll with a dodgy eye
and a painted smile
but having a tender spot
for Helen
all the while.
poem by Terry Collett
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Janice and You At London Bridge
It was the fourth day
since the break up
from school
for the summer vacation
and you were riding
with Janice
on the bus
to London Bridge
and she was wearing
the lemon coloured dress
you liked
that came to the knees
which were pressed
together
and the brown sandals
with the patterned holes
and the red beret
on her fair hair
was swaying
with the motion
of the bus
opposite you
was a man
wearing a trilby
and a moustache
who kept looking at you
with his dark eyes
his head going
from side to side
as the bus moved
and he sat next
to Janice
his hands
on his knees
and he turned
and gazed
at Janice's knees
then up at you again
his features flushing
and then he looked away
at the passing scene
behind you
pretending
you weren't there
then at London Bridge
he got off
and so did you
and Janice
and you waited
until he had gone
walking up
and over the bridge
and you said
he was a queer fish
who?
said Janice
that bloke
who sat next to you
why?
she asked
he kept staring at me
and ogling
at your knees
did he?
Janice said
you wait
until I tell Gran
about that
she'll say
you watch out
for his type Janice
he's no better
than he ought to be
you nodded
and smiled
at her imitation
of her gran
and she laughed
and you both
walked down
the steps and by
Southwark Cathedral
to the embankment
by the River Thames
and stood by the wall
looking at the passing
boats and ships and tugs
and the occasional
ducks floating
on the brown water
and you felt Janice's
9 year old hand
touch yours
as she pretended
(as she often did)
that you were
a married couple
out for a romantic walk
gazing
at the passing scenery
with the added
small talk.
poem by Terry Collett
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Summer 62 And You
That’s the last of school
for a while
she said
as you both descended
the school bus
and walked home
with her sister and yours
walking a small distance behind
any chance you could meet me later?
you asked
have to see
if Mother wants me
to do chores
she replied
maybe after?
you asked
she sighed
and looked up
at the late
afternoon sky
you caught her profile
and the way her cheek
was so kissable
and yet you didn’t
you just stared
have to see
won’t we
don’t want her
getting in one
of her moods
you walked on
in silence awhile
then she said
maybe able
to sneak out tomorrow
and see you
by the old pond
and you smiled
and you said
sure that’d be nice
but no funny business
she said
looking you
in the eyes
as if I would
you said
well Mother thinks you would
she muttered
looking away
so that her eyes
captured the horizon
and held it there
and you said
frankly Sweetie
I don’t give a dam or care
and she smiled and said
oh so very Clark Gable
and you both laughed
and she grabbed
your hand
and whispered
she just don’t understand.
poem by Terry Collett
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Mrs Clark's Daughter.
Your mother stood talking
With Mrs Clark after school
And you were kicking your
Heels waiting to get home
To your toys and games and
You gazed at Mrs Clark’s young
Daughter who poked her head
Out from around her mother’s
Wide ass and stared at you
Through thin wired spectacles
Which made her eyes large as
Fish in glass bowls and her hair
Was ribboned up in two plaits
Either side of her head giving
Her a stern expression and Mrs
Clark said Helen here has a crush
On your son or so she told me
After school yesterday and Mrs
Clark gave you a big smile like
A hippo coming out of water
And your mother said he never
Talks of girls and such all too
Busy with his toys and games
And shooting from his imaginary
Horse around the house and
Mrs Clark said well boys will
Be boys and girls be girls each
Playing games with their own
Toys and Helen poked out her
Tongue and a boss-eyed stare
God was you glad when your
Mother took you out of there.
poem by Terry Collett
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