Not An Answer Why.
Fay managed to get out
while her father worked
and she came
and knocked at your door
and said
You want to go out?
Sure
you replied
and you both went down
the stairs of the apartment block
across the Square
and down the slope
up Meadow Road
crossing over
the bombsite
behind the coal wharf
and on to the main road
where you walked along
side by side
Let's see what's on
at the movies
you said
and you stopped outside
the movie house
and peered at the programmes
Fay said
My daddy doesn't think
movies are right for children
he says they're sinful
and full of lust
and sex
and greed
and she stopped
and stared along the road
at the people passing
and the cars and lorries
going by
on the main road
and the evening air
choked up with fumes
and the street lights
giving a false perspective
It isn't all like that
you said
Some movies are about love
and laughter
and people enjoy going
it takes them out
of their dreary lives
Fay said
I've never been
inside a movie house
never seen a movie
Well why don't you come with me
to the matinee on Saturday
I can squeeze some money
from my dad for the two of us
Fay looked at you
and seemed interested
but then said
No I can't
if my father caught me
there'd be hell to pay
and apart from the lecture
on the immorality
of the arts and such
he'd belt me some
and not let me out again
for some time
and you said
Ok but some day
you're going to find out
things aren't always
as the parents say
then you're going to
have to find your own road
and walk your own way
and she looked sad
and walked away
from the movie house
along to the subway
and down the steps
into the bright lights
and noise of traffic
over head
and you touched her hand
and she gripped yours
and you walked down
through the subway tunnel
she in her flowered dress
and brown shoes
slightly scuffed
and you
in your tee shirt and jeans
and you pretended
not to notice
the bruise on her thigh
which caught your eye
as she skipped along
her dress rising high
as she went holding tight
your hand
her fingers wrapped
about yours
and up and out
on the other side
of the subway
with its bright lights
and evening sky
and too many questions
and not an answer why.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
To Go Or Not To Go.
There's a fun fair
on the bombsite
off Meadow Row
you told Fay
that Friday
on the way home
from school
and she said
I can only come
if my daddy's out
he thinks
all such things
are sinful
and if he
caught me there
he'd beat me for sure
Ok
you said
and let it dropp
and walked on
beside her
the afternoon heat
making you sweat
and then she said
I will try
to come if I can
and she looked sad
and her pale features
seemed even paler
and her eyes searched you
and you said
I hope you can
but if not another time
when the fair returns
and you both paused
at the kerb
as traffic rushed by
and her thin hand
reached out
and held yours
her fingers
touched yours
her thumb rubbing
against your thumb
and when the traffic stopped
because of the change of lights
you walked across the road
still hand in hand
she just a few steps behind
a case of
(as her father
often said)
the blind
leading the blind.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Summer 1958
You sat with Fay that summer day
on the flat concrete roof
of the World War Two bomb shelter
down below the tall flats
where you both lived
and you said
do you want to go
to the movies with me?
she looked across
at the coal depot
with its trucks loading
and unloading
I don't have no money
she replied
you looked at her
my dad'll pay
you said
he's always giving me money
for the movies
she shook her head
and you looked ahead
at the sun shining above
the rain tracks
over the coal depot
you had on your blue jeans
and white tee shirt
and she you noticed
turning your head
had a red and white dress
which came just over her knees
and she wore sandals
on bare feet
besides my mother wants me
so she can see me
Fay said with a sigh
she raised and lowered
her legs against
the concrete wall
her sandals making
tapping noises
as they hit the wall
and you noticed bruises
along her thigh
as she moved
and her dress rode higher
what are those bruises
on your leg?
you asked
she looked down
and stopped moving her legs
and pulled her dress hem
over her knees and thighs
I fell
she replied
down the stairs
you looked at her arms
where other fading bruises
blended into her skin
like worn-out badges
we can see a Western film
you said
I'm sure
there's a Jeff Chandler film
so my dad tells me
but she shook her head
too violent
Mother says
Fay uttered looking away
but there's kissing stuff too
you added
Fay looked at you
her blue eyes
moving over you
like a smoothing
palm of a hand
I'm not allowed
to go to the movies
Daddy says
its sinful and only
wicked people
go there
to be tempted
by the Devil
she sighed
and you both sat in silence
for a while
watching pigeons fly
in the blue summer sky
then she turned quickly
and kissed your cheek
and said
don't have to go
to no movie
to see kissing
and you thought
of the boring bits in films
where the cowboy
gets kissed by the girl
after a gun shoot out
and having been kissed
by Fay
you were glad
and guessed that kissing
wasn't at all
too bad.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bright Side Of The Road
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
Well be lovers once again on the
Bright side of the road
Little darlin, come with me
Wont you help me share my load
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
Into this life were born
Baby sometimes we dont know why
And time seems to go by so fast
In the twinkling of an eye
Lets enjoy it while we can
Wont you help me sing my song
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
Well be lovers once again
On the bright side of the road
Well be lovers once again on the bright side of the road
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fay and You and The Fading Bruise
Fay met you
at the bus stop
on the New Kent Road
she was dressed
in the lemon coloured dress
you liked
and her hair
was pulled tight
into a ponytail
where are you going?
she asked
to the Globe
you said
what Shakespeare's Globe?
she asked
no the fleapit cinema
at Camberwell Green
you replied
oh
she said
I've never been there
my daddy doesn't like
me going to cinemas
he says they're
dens of sin
she looked at you
as if you would confirm
her father's words
well it's certainly a den
you stated
but whether its
of sin I don't know
she looked puzzled
and touched
her ponytail
with her hand
are you coming along?
you asked
she looked about
as if her father
might be behind her
should I?
she asked
do you want to?
yes
she replied
then let's go
but I haven't any money
she said
I have enough
you said
my Mother gave me money
for chores I did
oh I see
she muttered
and she bit her lip
what would my daddy say
if he saw me?
he won't
how can you be so sure?
trust me
you said
fathers know little
of what their kids do
she smiled
if you think so
she said
sure I do
besides it'll
do you good
you said
giving her a smile
and then the bus came
and you both got on
and sat next
to each other
and you paid
the bus conductor
the fare
and as the bus
moved off
you both swayed
to the motion
of the bus
her arm touching yours
the fading bruise
on her flesh
a mixture of yellow
and brown
and blue
but you said nothing
besides you thought
if her old man
beats her
what the hell
can I do?
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Road Block
Yeah!, all right!
Oh, ain't no problem
Carry no heavy load
Lord, no!
Why can't i love you, baby ?
You try to block my road.
You try to block my road. hey!
Oh, better off to hand you
Everything i own, ha ha ha ha!
Strange to see you waiting for me,
You try to block my road, yeah yeah,
Try to block my road
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block daddy daddy daddy
Road block
Road block
Alright on the road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Yeah! road block
Road block, alright, alright, alright!
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Whoa road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Yeah!
Try to block my road, daddy daddy daddy
I said now every time i turn around
Why, try to block my road
Why did you try to hurt me try to block my road
I said all i ever wanted to do was try to block my road
N-now all i ever wanted to do was to love you try to block my road
Tell me, tell me, tell me try to block my road
Tell me, tell me, tell me now try to block my road
Waaah try to block my road
Waaah try to block my road
Try to block my road.
Ha ha!
Oh, ain't no problem
Carry no heavy load
Oh no, no!
Why can't i love you, baby ?
You try to block my road.
Hey hey, try to block my road,
Now now, try to block my road
Right, right, honey right now!
song performed by by Janis Joplin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scavenging For Coal
At the back
of the coal wharf
you and Fay
picked up coal pieces
that fell through
the iron railings
and put them
in an old bag from home
Fay looked
at her blackened fingers
and said
if my daddy sees
these fingers
and finds out
what I've been doing
he'll spank me
for sure
you gazed at her
beside you
and said
you can wash your hands
at my place
she looked around
at the bombsite behind you
the evening sun
slowly going down
behind the railway bridge
and nearby buildings
what if someone sees you
she asked
picking up these pieces?
no one worries about this
all the kids do it
you replied
my daddy says
it is evil to steal
she said
you put a black piece
of coal in the bag
and lifted it
to feel the weight
that's enough
you said
too much
and I won't be able
to carry it
Fay stood up
and looked around
at the darkening sky
you held the bag
in one hand
and scanned
the area around you
let's go
you said
and so you both
walked away
from the coal wharf
into Meadow Row
by the public house
where piano music played
and down towards
the flats
where you lived
and after climbing
the concrete stairs
to your landing
you opened the door
and put the bag
by the indoor
coal bunker
and showed Fay
where to wash her hands
turning on
the cold water tap
you both washed
your hands
with the red
Life Buoy soap
her hands near yours
her wet flesh
touching yours
the black water
running away
and another adventure
and another day.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Helen and You and The ABC Cinema
In the evening after tea
of bread and jam
and a glass of milk
you went out
and met Helen
under the railway bridge
in Rockingham Street
next to the Duke
of Wellington pub
and she was waiting
there looking up
and down the street
and when she saw you
she waved and walked
towards you
where's your doll
Battered Betty?
you asked
mum's washing her clothes
and I didn't want
to bring her out
with nothing on
she said
no that wouldn't be decent
you said
where are we going?
she asked
I want to show you
the passages behind
the ABC cinema
you said
it's like a cavern
of dark passages
and once I saw a rat
running along by a wall
oh god
she said
putting a hand
to her mouth
not a rat
yes it run along
one of the walls
not sure
I want to go there
she said softly
one little rat
isn't going to hurt you
you said
besides I'll chase it away
if it comes
will you?
she said
yes of course I will
nothing is going to harm you
while I am here
you said
you showed her
the toy gun
tucked in
the inside pocket
of your jacket
she nodded
and she took
your hand
and you walked her
along and up behind
the Trocodero cinema
and onto
the New Kent Road
and you crossed quickly
before the traffic lights changed
and once you got
to the other side
you took her
to the ABC cinema
and went down beside
the cinema walls
along the dark passages
that went on beside
and behind the cinema
all the time
she gripped your hand
and now and then
her grip tightened
when she thought
she saw something
out of the corner
of her eye
what was that?
she said
stopping still
clutching your hand tight
just a piece of paper
blown by the wind
are you sure?
yes just paper
she untightened
her grip
and you both
walked on
with the sound
of traffic and voices
in the distance
and at the back
of the cinema
you came to an entrance
where two doors where
and you said
sometimes the doors are open
and you can sneak in free
she looked at you
her eyes behind
her thick lens glasses
large and innocent
is that allowed?
she asked
no
you replied
if they catch you
you get into trouble
but if you're lucky
you can get in
no trouble
you said
oh
she said
my mum wouldn't like it
if I got into trouble
we won't get in tonight
anyway
you said
the doors are locked
another time maybe
and she gripped
your hand
and her face looked shocked.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Day & Night We Walk These Aisles
Day and night we walk these aisles
In the same old movie show
And look for someone to feel for a while.
Theres matinees on saturdays
When we sit in the velvet chairs
Popcorn boxes fly through the air.
Sad movies, they make you cry
Sad movies make you wonder why
You ever came.
Do something to me,
Dont make me wait
Stab something through me,
Dont cry out the good things
That I appreciate.
Day and night we walk these aisles
In the same old movie show
And look for someone to feel for a while
The lights go on, the movies gone
And the managers up there
He says he doesnt care
And we take our money back.
Sad movies, they make you cry
Sad movies make you wonder why
You ever came.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Janice and You and Shared Love.
Janice met you
as you walked
across the bombsite
from the New Kent Road
to Meadow Row
you watched
as she trod
carefully over
bricks and stones
some half buried
under the settled
earth and mixed brick
her hands held out
like some tight-rope walker
and she saw you
and smiled
and said
Gran said I can come out
if I'm with you
so I came looking for you
and here you are
yes
you said
my usual place
amongst many
she stopped
where the ground
was even
and held her hands
in front of her
holding a small bag
you looked at her
in her red beret
and grey coat
her black shoes
and white socks
and she said
where are we going?
you looked at her bag
and said
what's in the bag?
a small handkerchief
and purse
with six pence
and a penny
and a bar of chocolate
we can share
she said
where are we going?
she repeated
where do you
want to go?
Waterloo
to watch the trains?
she said
I know you like them
ok
you said
and you both
headed back
to the bus stop
on the New Kent Road
and stood there
waiting for the bus
she in her red beret
and coat
and you
in your jeans
and pullover
with the wiggly pattern
and she opened
her bag
and took out
the bar of chocolate
and broke it
in two
one for her
and one for you
wrapped in
its silver paper
and purple cover
just like two grown ups
each giving
to their lover.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sad Movies
Day and night we walk these aisles
In the same old movie show
And look for someone
to feel for a while.
There's matinees on Saturdays
When we sit in the velvet chairs
Popcorn boxes fly through the air.
Sad movies, they make you cry
Sad movies make you wonder why
You ever came.
Do something to me,
Don't make me wait
Stab something through me,
Don't cry out the good things
That I appreciate.
Day and night we walk these aisles
In the same old movie show
And look for someone
to feel for a while
The light's go on, the movie's gone
And the manager's up there
He says he doesn't care
And we take our money back.
Sad movies, they make you cry
Sad movies make you wonder why
You ever came.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bright Lights
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
As the world is round, the road is long
Ive trouble on my mind
Ill just keep on moving
Until the day comes round
The wind a blowing on my back
And my feet a flying
Flying down the road
Where the bright lights shine
Mondays in a pigtown
Tuesdays in a truck
Wednesdays a field of mud
And thursdays out of luck
Fridays rain clouds
Saturday flies by
Sunday comes shining
From a blue blue sky
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some towns are golden
Some towns are stained
Some towns are shadows
Fading in the rain
Some towns are rust
And some towns they gleam
Some towns are mad dogs
Some towns are a dream
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some dreams are hollow
Some dreams are cold
Some dreams are crazy
And some dreams are bold
Some dreams are bought
And other dreams are sold
Some dreams lie waiting
At the end of the road
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Growing Up Before Time
You stood outside
the ABC cinema
with Helen looking
at the framed photographs
of the stills
from the film
then showing
she clutching her doll
Battered Betty
you standing there
pointing out
the main characters
my old man said
he'd take me
to see this
on Saturday
you said
Helen rocked Betty
in her arms
I hope our child
doesn't call you
old man
she said
maybe he won't
you replied
it might be a she
Helen said
sure it might
you said
you gave Betty a look
as she hung there
in Helen's arms
you looked back
at the photo stills
putting your hands
in the pockets
of your jeans
maybe
you can take me
to the cinema
when we are older
Helen said
and we can sit
at the back
like those grown ups do
and kiss
you sensed her hand
touch your arm
and rub it up
and down
Betty moving
as Helen's arm moved
sure
you said
long as I can still see
the movie
Helen handed you Betty
and you took
your hands out
of your pockets
and held her gingerly
like she might go
crap on you
and Helen put
a hand in her pocket
and pulled out
a few coins
I might have enough
here for some fries
she said
ok
you replied
and you walked
beside Helen
along the New Kent Road
to the Neptune's fish shop
holding Battered Betty
carefully against
your cowboy shirt
the one your mother
bought you
for your birthday
the year before
Helen talked
of children's names
and you thought
of the Wild West
and cowboy games.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sarsparilla and Janice and You.
You walked with Janice
to Baldwin's the Herbalist
at the corner of Elephant
and Walworth Road
she wore her blue patterned dress
and red beret
and white socks
and red sandals
and in her small purse
she had money
her gran gave her
to buy sarsaparilla
in a half pint glass
and you
in your cowboy shirt
and jeans and plimsolls
with your holster
and six shooter
in the belt
around your waist
and clutching money
your mother'd given you
for doing a few chores
Gran would never let me
go on my own
Janice said
but when I said
you were going
Gran said all right
but no sweets
they rot your teeth
I like the liquorice sticks
you can buy there
you said
they make your teeth white
or so my mum said
Janice looked at your gun
in the holster
and said
you can protect me
from outlaws with your gun
sure
you replied
she smelt of lavender
and toothpaste from tins
and she moved nearer to you
and her arm touched yours
as you walked along
here we are
she said
and opened the door of Baldwin's
and you both went in
and went to the counter
and asked the man
for two half pints
of sarsaparilla
and when he poured them
and you each paid him
you stood by the window
with your glasses
and sipped
and looked
at the passing traffic
and people
you feeling like Wyatt Earp
in the saloon
and Janice looking out
as if she feared
outlaws would be coming
pretty soon.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life On The Road
Ever since I was a child,
I loved to wander wild
Through the bright city lights,
And find myself a life I could call my own.
It was always my ambition
To see piccadilly,
Ramble and roam around soho
And pimlico and savile row,
And walk down the abbey road.
So I saved all my money
And packed up my clothes,
And I said good-bye to my friends
And my folks back home.
And I left for a life of my own.
I left for a life on the road.
Im a real hungry tyke,
And I know what I like.
And I know where Im goin:
To those bright city lights.
Oh yeah, oh yeah,
This time Im gonna get there.
Im bound for a life on the road.
Give me life on the road.
I said life on the road.
When I arrived in euston,
I was little more than a child.
And I didnt know then
That the dives and the dens
Would be so vulgar and wicked and wild.
Mama always told me
The city ladies were bawdy and bold.
And so I searched night and day
To catch a kissable lady,
But all that I caught was a cold,
cause those stuck-up city ladies
Didnt notice me walk by.
Now Ive got holes in my shoes
cause Ive been walkin the streets all night.
And Im livin the life that I chose.
Livin my life on the road.
I said life on the road.
I want life on the road.
Life on the road.
I was standing with the punks in praed street,
When a muscle man came my way.
He said, hey, are you gay?
Can you come out and play?
And like a fool, I went and said, o.k.
Ever since I was knee high,
I thought the city was paved with gold.
But Ive seen so many losers
And down and out boozers
Who were tired of bein bought and sold.
City women are a tease,
But Id really love to please.
Now Ive got blood shot eyes
cause Ive been walkin the streets all night.
And it sure knocks you out on the road.
And Im livin my life on the road.
I said life on the road.
Life on the road.
I want life on the road.
One of these days,
I wanna go home,
Visit my friends,
And see all the places that I used to know,
And say good-bye to a world thats too real;
Good-bye to a world thats forgotten how to feel.
And its slowly usin me,
And theres no security.
Sometimes I hate the road,
But its the only life I know.
But Im livin the life that I chose,
So Ill live out my life on the road.
Give me life on the road.
I said life on the road.
(repeat)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road
The chicken was undecided on whether to cross the road,
she was a short sighted chicken
who, not being able to see across the road
couldn't quite understand the advantages
of being on the other side.
People passing by the chicken
stopped to ask if she wanted to get across the road
but the chicken just clucked, indecisively,
looking very concerned as to her own
demise if she should attempt to.
After all, should she transverse the road
and avoid oncoming vehicles
she would then be stuck on the other side
but should she not, then she may well
feel unfulfilled, unaccomplished.
Not wanting to disappoint,
let down, or cause a disturbance
the chicken did a little shake,
a little flutter and hop, skipped
and jumped across the road.
A local lorry came hurtling towards her,
she saw the headlights, heard the horn
but too late! There were chicken bits
all over the place while a local
reporter took notes, writing:
We'll never know why the chicken
tried to cross that road in heavy traffic
but she was pronounced dead
on arrival at the local hospital.
They'll be no live chicken tonight.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bombsite Conversation.
Fay sat beside you
on the concrete stairs
of Banks House
looking out
into the Square
where young girls
played skip rope
or boys having toy guns
reenacted WW2
taking no prisoners
firing noisy cap guns
and Fay said
where shall we go?
where do you want to go?
you said
away from the noisy guns
and skip rope games
she replied
and so you both got up
and went out
into the Square
and down the slope
the morning sun
blessing your heads
she in her summery dress
of yellow and orange flowers
white socks and sandals
and you in your grey tee shirt
and jeans and battered
black shoes
and you walked up
Meadow Row
between the houses
on either side until you turned right
by the public house
and onto the bombsite
behind the greengrocer store
and there you both sat
on the remains of a wall
looking around the ruins
and wild flowers
growing between bricks
and broken concrete blocks
and Fay said
I wonder who lived here
when the bombs fell?
what did they feel?
you studied her fair hair
tied in a bow
her blue eyes
scanning the scene
the white and yellow flowers
the weedy green
scared I guess
you said
I would be
she said
my mum said
she hid under
the dining room table
with her niece
where she lived
when the bombs fell
and there was the sound
of bombs falling
and explosions
and bangs
and people calling
and children crying
you said
Fay put her arm
under yours
and squeezed it tight
and lay her head
on your shoulder
and she whispered
I'm glad we
weren't here then
glad we were born
after the War
me too
you said
and she squeezed
your arm tightly
some more.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winding Road
Written by tiffany and nancy bryan
Ive been down many roads
Sometimes life can be unkind
I didnt wonder where Id go
Didnt know what I might find
What you got was not expected
And when you feel that time is running out on you
Chorus:
The winding road that takes me home
Im going there someday I know
The winding road that takes me home to you
Is there beneath the shadows
The winding road
Memories of the love we had
Never fade away
Tears of joy for the promises
That will come again someday
When you walked out it was unexpected
Im trying to find my way back to you
Chorus
The winding road
The truth can leave you breathless
And the truth can set you free
Ive got all these questions
Living inside of me, inside of me
Chorusx2
The winding road
The winding road
The winding road
song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bombed Out Butcher's Shop.
On the third day
of the holidays
you met Janice
half way up Bath Terrace
at the entrance to the flats
where she lived with her gran
she was dressed in her red beret
yellow flowered cotton dress
white socks and brown sandals
she smiled when she saw you
and said
feared you might not show
I told you I'd be here
you said
she looked at you
and said
I know
but some people say things
but don't show
I'm not some people
if I say I'll be here
I'll be here
you said
glad you're here
she said
Gran doesn't like me
going out alone
she says there are strange men
out there who take kids off
and do things to them
and murder them
yes
you said
I read about that boy
they found murdered
near here
she looked concerned
don't worry
you're with me
my mum told me
where to kick them
if they try anything on
oh
Janice said as you both
walked up to the top
of the terrace
to Harper Road
where're we going?
she asked
a bombed out
butcher's shop
you replied
isn't that dangerous?
she asked
not if we're careful
where we tread
you said
isn't that breaking
and entering?
she asked
no we don't break in
you said
we walk in
the back gate
it's not locked
oh
she said
looking concerned
we won't get into trouble
will we? Gran said
she'd tan my backside
if I got into trouble
would I get you into trouble?
you asked
guess not
she said softly
you crossed
Harper Road
and went round the back
of the bombed out
butcher's shop
and opened the gate
and entered
into an empty yard
you shut the gate
after you
and she stood gaping
at the back of the shop
you showed her
the large walk in freezer
where meat had once
been kept
now empty
smelling of piss
and damp
what if you got locked in?
she said
the lock's busted
you said
oh I see
she replied
her eyes large
and her mouth open
in wonder
you took her into
the shop now empty
apart from a large table
with a marble top
where meat
had once been cut
and chopped up
it stinks
she said
yes tramps get in
sometime and shelter
for the night
are they here now?
she asked nervously
no they go off
in the day
you said
giving her
a smile
you took her up
the creaking stairs
to the upper landing
where the sky
shone through the roof
where a bomb
had fallen in
gosh
she said
how weird
one of the rooms
had an old bed frame
pushed in a corner
and the roof
was still there
except where a few tiles
had gone
someone slept there once
she said
and now
they're probably dead
you took her hand
and walked her
to the window
and looked out
on Harper Road
people would have looked out
of this window too
you said
sad isn't it
she said
and you sensed
her lay
on your shoulder
her fair haired
red bereted head.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At The Beginning Of A Winter
strangely the environs
wore a deserted look
though it's homeward-time
on a mildly chill road
a vehicle or two passed
by us on that early evening
as gentle and visible
darkness descended
we walked in silence
on either side of the ambling road
nothing really pressing upon us
we assured the other
of one's presence
as we once in a way
...looked at each other!
29oct2009
11.21hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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