Lisa and The Aftermath After Sunday
Lisa dresses for school,
buttons up the blouse
with fumbling fingers.
She stares down at her
bed where she and Mona
had lain the day before.
The same sheets, pillows
having no doubt her hair,
her smell. She puts on her
school tie, loops it through,
her fingers sensing the
smoothness of the cloth.
She remembers how they
had made love on that bed,
how they had lain naked and
hot and kissing. Best Sunday
ever, she muses, looking away,
stepping into her school skirt,
pulling it over her waist.
Her mother had called out
to her some minutes before.
Breakfast ready, not in the
mood for food. She looks out
the window at the farmyard
across the way, cows heading
out to the fields, her father
following, bellowing, a stick
in his hand, his arms raised
to move them on. She sits on
the bed and takes a pillow
and holds it to her nose
and sniffs. Mona's scent,
borrowed from her mother,
she had said. She feels along
the sheet with her hand.
They had laid there, their
bodies, their lips kissing,
their hands holding. No one
had known they were
making love. Her parents
and family had thought them
drying after getting drench
in the Sunday downpour.
She closes her eyes, imagines
Mona is still there, thinks
she feels her hands around
her waist. Her mother's voice
calls from downstairs. She sighs,
stands up and slips on her
socks and shoes. Leans down
and puts a kiss on her top
pillow where Mona had
laid her head, now she has only
images and memories instead.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Monday Morning On The Bus
Mona sits on the school bus,
the noise of the other children
seems far away, she is indulging
in her thoughts. Lisa will get
on the bus soon. Her closeness
again. Sitting just here. Next to
me, Mona muses, patting the
seat next to her. The evening
before they had parted after
the tea. The bedroom romp
had filled her up. Each moment
seems to relive in her mind.
She looks out of the window,
passing countryside, cows in
fields, trees, birds. They had
almost drowned in the downpour
of rain from the woods to the
house the afternoon before.
Drenched to the skin. Get out
of those wet clothes, they had
been told by a parent. And they
did so. That started it all off.
Naked and drying. How had it
got that far? She thinks, watching
a girl on the other side of the
aisle of the bus talk about
watching such and such on TV.
She wonders how Lisa feels now.
The day after. After such things,
such sights, such deeds. The bus
draws to a stop. Others get on.
Lisa comes up the aisle and sits
beside her. She smiles and fiddles
with her school bag. Her fingers
nervous, like spiders on the run.
Sleep all right? Mona asks. Yes,
Lisa answers. Their eyes meet.
Mona feels a thump in her breast;
her heart seems to want to burst
open. Lisa leans closer. Dreamt of
you, she whispers. Did you? Mona
says, taking in Lisa lips moving, her
eyes, the nose. Lisa nods. Looks
around her. The bus moves on.
Mona wants to speak but her
mouth seems sealed. Lisa turns
again and looks at her. Seems
strange now seeing her clothed
after the nakedness and kissing
and holding. Lisa puts her hand
over Mona's, squeezes, touches,
flesh on flesh. Mona breathes
in deeply. The touch, the feel
of her. She thinks of the last kiss
the night before. Not now of
course. Not with others about.
Not here. They seem in a different
world to the others. Adrift on
their own ship, wild seas. Waves
of passion inside. They look away
each to a different horizon. Love
locked. Hands touching, skin on
skin. Father O'Brien would call it sin.
poem by Terry Collett
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Polly strips His bed
Polly strips back the sheets
where Master George has lain.
She folds the white sheets and
lays them on a chair. She lies
her head on the pillow where
his head has been. She sniffs
and smells him. Closing her eyes
she imagines she's there beside
him and he has her in his arms,
his lips against her flushed cheek.
She imagines they are in bed
together when dawn's light breaks
through the shutters and Susie
the other maid enters and wide
eyed she mouths a huge round O.
She opens her eyes; the pillow
is vacant beside her head, just
a small indentation where he had
laid his head the night before.
She fingers into the pocket of her
white apron a few black hairs she's
discovered on the white pillowcase.
She strips off the pillowcases and
puts them with the sheets. The bed
is now stripped of all coverings
and is left to air. She imagines as
she stands that he is still there,
laid out unclothed, skin all bare.
But in reality she knows he has
gone of to war as he has before.
She hopes he will return alive
and in one piece; no missing
limps or blind or gassed as some
have been she's read; but most of all
she dreads him laid out cold and damp
in some foreign field lying still and dead.
poem by Terry Collett
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Butter in her mouth
Butter in her mouth
School time is just too over, waking up and ready for the school otherwise I will beat you bitterly.
He put off the bed sheet from my body, stretched my hand,
In addition, put me on my foot.
Tears came in my eyes then I went slowly and slowly to my mother in the kitchen,
I put my finger towards my father
And complained about the rude behavior of my father,
Who was asking him to go to the school?
She embraced me; kiss my fore head, and politely asking me to become ready to school because I have to be an officer by studying in the school.
Orders were the same.
Father orders me to wake up and to go to the school while he was having a stick in his hand.
Mother also orders him to go to the school having butter in her mouth.
(From the diary of an Indian)
poem by Vijay Gupta
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Mona's Monday Morning.
Mona stands outside
the back door of the
cottage and stares up
at the morning sky.
Monday, school soon.
It seems a lifetime ago
since Friday. She and Lisa
had, the previous day,
burned into each other
a different relationship.
She can still sense each
touch, each hold and kiss.
The rainfall had soaked
them like a holy baptism,
a fresh start, a new beginning.
She breathes in the morning air.
Fresh in the lungs. Cows
moo in a far field. A crow
calls. She closes her eyes
and smells the farm across
the fields. Each part of her
seems touched. Each inch
of flesh seems hotly kissed.
The bedroom had been their
sanctuary, a place of rebirth.
The parents had not heard
or known or suspected a thing.
Teatime had been so innocent
after. Acting as normal, as if
the moments before they had
not made love, had not been
naked in each others arms
flesh to flesh, body against body.
Just tea and sandwiches and
cakes and the usual talk of
farm and land and weather.
She opens her eyes and
watches the clouds drift.
More cows moo. Birds
fly overhead. There is
a new life within, a new love
inside her heart and head.
poem by Terry Collett
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Mona
Lifes good friends are hard to find
And now one of mine is dead
And things I should have said to her
I shall say to you instead
Mona mona
So much of you to love
Too much of you to take care of
Mona mona
You got too big to keep
And too damn old to eat
When you where just a football
At your mamas side
I reckon everyone figured you
For a bar-b-que when you died
And here Im thinking about you
Lying underground
Pushing up a pine tree in my field
Oh mona mona
You can close your eyes
Ive got a twelve gauge surprise
Waiting for you
Since the day she passed away
Everythings just the same
Everywhere I go
Somebody mentions her name
Sometimes its easiest to tell
A friend a lie
They dont understand
The way I feel
Oh mona mona
So much of you to love
To much of you to take care of
So long
Now she is gone and I am
Left alone as you can see
But ever since I caused her death
I do miss her company
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grits Aint Groceries
If I dont love you baby,
Grits aint groceries,
Eggs aint poultry,
And mona lisa was a man.
All around the world
Id rather be a fly
And light on my babys head,
Ill stay with that
Woman til I die.
A toothpick in my hand,
I dig a 10-foot ditch
And ride through the jungle
Fightin lions with a switch,
Because ya know I love ya baby,
Well, you know I love you baby,
And if I dont love you baby,
Grits aint groceries,
Eggs aint poultry,
And mona lisa must-a been a man.
Well, its all around the world and I got
Blisters on my feet
A-tryin to find my baby,
A-bring her back to me.
If you see my baby,
I know shell be convinced.
If it dont send her back to me,
It just
Dont make no sense,
Because ya know I love ya baby,
Well, you know I love you baby.
If I dont love you baby,
Grits aint groceries and eggs aint poultry,
And mona lisa must-a been a man.
Well,
All around the world
I never will forget
I lost all my money, my woman and my pet,
But I got to have you baby,
I got to settle for nothin less,
Give up all my good time for the sake of happiness,
Because ya know I love ya baby,
You know,
You know I love you baby.
If I dont love you baby,
Grits aint groceries,
Eggs aint poultry,
And mona lisa must-a been a man.
I said, if I dont love you baby,
Grits aint groceries,
Eggs aint poultry,
And mona lisa must-a
Mona lisa must-a been a man.
Well,
If I dont love ya baby,
If
I dont love you baby,
If I dont love you baby,
Grits aint groceries,
And eggs aint poultry,
And mona lisa must-a been a man.
Mona lisa must-a been a man.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Mona Lisa
-artist: nat king cole
-peak billboard position # 1 for 8 weeks in 1950
-words and music by jay livingston and ray evans
-academy award winner from the film captain carey, u.s.a starring alan ladd
Mona lisa, mona lisa, men have named you
Youre so like the lady with the mystic smile
Is it only cause youre lonely they have blamed you?
For that mona lisa strangeness in your smile?
Do you smile to tempt a lover, mona lisa?
Or is this your way to hide a broken heart?
Many dreams have been brought to your doorstep
They just lie there and they die there
Are you warm, are you real, mona lisa?
Or just a cold and lonely lovely work of art?
Do you smile to tempt a lover, mona lisa?
Or is this your way to hide a broken heart?
Many dreams have been brought to your doorstep
They just lie there and they die there
Are you warm, are you real, mona lisa?
Or just a cold and lonely lovely work of art?
Mona lisa, mona lisa
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mona Mona
I remember sayin
She came out of nowhere
Like the devil in disguise
I believed it when she told me
That she loved me
.....tellin lies
*everybody knows her name
Mona mona
Everybody knows her game
Mona mona
Shes gonna break your heart
Mona mona
(she) cut you right down
Then shell tear you apart
Mona mona
**you know youd better try to forget it
You know youre gonna live to regret it
Id really hate to be the one
To tell you so (I told you so)
Let me take the time to remind you
Youre better off leavin her behind you
I really think its something
That you oughta know
You better let her go
Yeah yeah, let her go
(*repeat)
(**repeat)
Dont you think youd better let her go
Let her go
song performed by by Peter Cetera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mona Lisa
Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa men have named you
You're so like the lady with the mystic smile
Is it only cause you're lonely they have blamed you
Or that Mona Lisa strangeness in your style
Do you smile to tempt a lover Mona Lisa
Or is this your way to hide a broken heart
Many dreams have been brought to your door step
They just lie there and they die there
Are you warm? Are you real Mona Lisa?
Or just a cold and lonely, lovely work of art
- Musical Interlude -
Do you smile to tempt a lover Mona Lisa
Or is this your way to hide a broken heart
Many dreams have been brought to your door step
They just lie there and they die there
Are you warm? Are you real Mona Lisa?
Or just a cold and lonely, lovely work of art
Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is Sometimes Hidden.
Just as Minnie gets in the mood
to play the Debussy Violin
Sonata her mother says the
photographer is waiting and
so she has to go along to the
lounge and pose and have her
picture taken and as she stands
there with her violin dressed
to the nines the photographer
says no do not smile it cheapens
the effect and so she stiffens
her lips and stares at the young
photographer's moustache and
her mother says do has the man
wants dear and don't pout so
and so she ceases to pout and
gazes at the box camera and man
hidden behind the cloth his hand
visible and do not move he says
hold it do not fidget dear her
mother says and puts her hands
on her shoulders and places her
in the position her mother thinks
the photographer wants is that it?
her mother asks the photographer
smiling in that way she smiles that
gives the impression of an imbecile
yes yes he says that is it and so she
stands as placed the sensation of
wanting to urinate suddenly upon
her and so she squeezes her thighs
together her knees touching her
hands gripping the violin trying
silently to keep the urine in.
poem by Terry Collett
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Mona Lisa
(words & music by j. livingston - r. evans)
Mona lisa, mona lisa, man have named you
Youre so like the lady with the mystic smile
Is it only cause youre lonely man have blamed you
For that mona lisa strangeness in your smile
Do you smile to tempt a lover mona lisa
Or is it your way to hide a broken heart
Many dreams have been brought to your doorstep
They just lie there and they die there
Are you warm, are you real mona lisa
Or just a cold and lonely lovely work of art
La la la la......
For that mona lisa strangeness in your smile
Do you smile to tempt a lover mona lisa
Or is it your way to hide a broken heart
Many dreams have been brought to your doorstep
They just lie there and they die there
Are you warm, are you real mona lisa
Or just a cold and lonely lovely work of art
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mona Lisa
We stood together on the museum floor
and the Mona Lisa smiled.
You held my hand, then looked at me
with tender eyes so mild.
I smiled and heard you say to me
'I'd rather look at you.'
and as we left Mona Lisa watched
and once again she knew
what a smile can do.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Already Dies.
After the service
at the church
on Sunday morning
in 1962
she and you
leaving the choir
and she taking your hand
in hers and staying behind
until the others had gone
she kisses your lips
and the echo
of the organ’s drone
silent and the smell
of her mother’s
borrowed scent
lingering in the air
and knowing her sister
would be waiting outside
prepared to tell her mother
if she caught glimpse of kiss
or any hold of hands
and half deaf organist
Mr Lundon stomping about
in the organ loft above
and all you wanted
was to stay there
with the kiss and love
and her lips and the look
in her big blue eyes
not knowing then
that all things
however good
move on and something
inside her already dies.
poem by Terry Collett
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While Hair Brushing
Juliette drags the brush
through her hair you have
to brush it at least one
hundred times her mother
had said years ago and say
a prayer each time you get
it through and maybe God
will bless you and as she sits
and brushes her hair she
remembers her mother standing
over her when she was a child
and the hair was as long then
as it is now and oh God she
says how I hated it the knots
and tangles and the number of
times I used to cry each time
she pauses in front of the mirror
the brush held mid air sometimes
when she brushes her hair and
stares in the mirror she sees him
there looking at her as he did back
then watching her every move
his dark eyes greedily drinking
her in and once he placed his
hands around her waist and kissed
her neck how she cringed his spittle
still there her uncle his breath his
hands touching always when she
was alone and once when undressing
he came in and stared and said he
thought she was becoming a beautiful
young girl now she brushes her hair
again the brush stiff and heavy gripped
in her hand and as she stares into the
mirror heavy with times and care she
thinks she sees him still staring still there.
poem by Terry Collett
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Dead Boys Poem
The child sits and weeps,
How could this be all that matters,
Why did this have to hurt so deep,
How could this be life?
The child sits with the pain inside,
He sits with his heart in his chest,
‘How could I have died? ’
Is all he thinks, he forgets the rest.
The child’s eyes closed so tight,
His fists clenched so strong
He feels the night,
He knows everything that happened was wrong.
The child stands and looks into the houses light
He stares at not the window,
Not at the sight,
Yet only for the weeping widow.
The child stands holding the gun,
The gun he died holding,
As he remembers his father killing him, his only son
He remembers his father scolding.
He knows he took a life,
Yet he knows his father took his,
He remembers not the taking of his father’s life,
Only the pain of his father stealing his.
His eyes so dark,
His mind so lost,
His hand tracing deaths mark,
As he remembers it’s cost.
He remembers the scene, the time,
He remembers the look in his father’s face,
He remembers doing the crime,
He remembers seeing the pain in his father’s face.
But then his memory stops,
And reality takes place,
For this is when he dropped,
This is when life left his face.
He walks past,
To eternity; to roam
Of all his memories this shall be his last
For this is the dead boy’s poem.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Mona
Bo Diddley)
Hey, Mona, hey hey hey hey, Mona,
I'm gonna tell you what I'm gonna do,
I'm gonna build my house next door to you,
Can I make love to you once in a while?
Maybe we could do a little kissing and tellin' lies.
When I come out on the front, girl,
You'll listen to my heart goin' bumpity bump.
I need you baby and it ain't no lie,
When I'm through lovin' I'll surely die
song performed by by Quicksilver Messenger Service
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mona Lisa
[Intro (spoken)]
This is the story about... Mona Lisa
That was her name...
Mona Lisa
[verse 1]
Ladies and Gentlemen, I've got a little story to tell
About Mona Lisa, and how she suddenly fell (huh)
See everyone knew her, they knew her oh so well
Now I am taking over, to release her from her spell
[chorus]
She's unforgettable, she was a legend though
It's kinda pitiful that she's gone
It's kinda incredible
She's so unpredictable (yeah, yeah)
It's time to let her go (yeah) cuz she's gone, cuz she's gone, cuz she's gone
[Verse 2]
She was taken under, drowning in her sea (huh)
Running like an angel, she was crying but could not see (oh no!)
Now see everyone's watching, as she starts to fall
Now don't have a breakdown
You will hit the freakin wall
[repeat chorus]
[verse 3]
Now Ladies does that make you cryyyyyyy? (huh)
Now Fellas you have to say goodbyeeeee
Cuz Mona Lisa's got to flyyyyy
Everyone, may we have a moment of silence? Right Here.
God
[repeat chorus 2x]
song performed by by Britney Spears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mona Lisa Eyes - Sway B-side
I've got mona lisa eyes
I can stare through all your lies
Maybe they will come tomorrow (x3)
But it's only another day away
Look down on everything in sight
Look down on everything and say goodbye
And it's only another day away
I've got mona lisa eyes (x3)
And it's only another day away
Day away...
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Morning
Sunday morning silence, curtain stay closed late
No one thinks of kitchens mornings in a filthy state
Dishes cups and beer stains, ashtrays on the floor
Sunday morning papers are left outside the front door
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
(sunday, bloody sunday rest)
Glass of fizzy water helps to start the day
Sit and listen to sunday silence, problems fade away
Sunday cars and drivers break the morning air
Uncollected milk outside reveals theres no one there
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Bathrobes hang in waiting, windows steaming up
Somewhere in the sink downstairs lies an unwashed cup
Tea and toast for breakfast clear away the plates
Wash-up prepare for cooking sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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