Some Days After School
Some days after school
having slipped by her mother's vision
she met you in the back woods
by the pool
and you were there
in the your tee shirt and jeans
and she stood there
for a moment
in her blouse and skirt
and you stared at each other
taking in the beauty
you saw there
enjoying the moment
the big now
shutting out the bird song
the rabbits by the trees
the far off sound of traffic
and she broke out and said
had a job get by her scanner eyes
had to slip out
before she gave out the chores
and she came over to you
standing there
and stood real close
so that you could sense her body
just about touching yours
her perfume teasing
your nostrils
stirring your body
and then she closed her eyes
and kissed your lips
and it was like
a first day of creation
as if God had said
there you go
feel the love
sense the glow
and you did
and it seemed an eternity
but was merely minutes
glued and touched
and wet and warm
then you sensed
the rain coming
and distant storm
and then the raindrops
hit the pool like small bullets
and grabbing her hand
you ran through the trees
away from the pool
carrying the memory of a kiss
and a bird's lone call.
poem by Terry Collett
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Mid Term Break
It was mid term break
from school and she met you
at the back of your house
down by the small pond
you both called the pool
where you could sit
and watch ducks swim
and birds sing
in nearby bushes
and she said
I've just read about some nuns
who wear clothing
when they bath
so that God
can't see them naked
a magpie flew by
and you noticed
how difficult it was
to tell
its wing from tail
and you said
Would God be interested
in seeing naked nuns?
she gazed over
at the trees
on the other side
of the pool
her blue eyes
catching sunlight
Well they obviously thought so
she said
and she lay back
on the grassy bank
and you lay beside her
and she put out a hand
and her fingers
touched yours
and you lifted up
her hand and kissed it
and it tasted of soap
as if you'd dived
into her bathwater
and swam
between her thighs
How sweet you are
she said as you let
her hand go
and she held it
and looked at it
then a blackbird
swooped across the pool
noisily and broke
the momentarily magic
and she said laughing
You don't know
where my hand
may have been
and you taking in
the sunlight dancing
in her big blue eyes
Maybe not
you replied
not telling her
what
in your dream
you'd seen.
poem by Terry Collett
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In The Swimming Pool In The Park
Your sister called her
the girl in the red beret
and there she was
in the outdoor
swimming pool
in the park
her gran sitting
in the stands knitting
and Janice saw you
and said
Fancy seeing you here
can you swim?
You stood
in the shallow end
of the pool
in your blue trunks
looking at her wet fair hair
clinging to her body
and her eyes bright
in the sun's afternoon light
No not so far
you replied
I can
she said shaking water
from her hair and head
I can swim the length
and back almost
you looked over
at Jimmy in the pool
talking to friends
she touched your hand
and said
I can show you
how to swim
and she smiled
and you felt her hand
on yours and hoped
Jimmy wasn't looking
seeing her touch you
Maybe another time
you said
pulling your hand away
and plunging it
into the water
I've got to go
you said
my friends
are waiting for me
and she looked at you
her eyes now sad
and she said softly
No stay with me
I like it
when you are near me
and she stood there
in her pink swimsuit
her hair sticking
to her face
her eyes watery and blue
and gazing hopefully
(the noise and laughter
from the pool
momentarily shut off)
at seven year old you.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Stag (ballad)
The Stag it ran through fields and woods
Flitting here darting there
Running fast from men with hoods
Fast as a hare
A bird over head cries a warning song
A warning song cries the bird
For the stag the bravest stag
Who is torn away from the herd
The gun trumpets on the still air
This frightens the stag that runs like a hare
He runs through the trees and to a pool
He stops to take a breath but then he hears, leaves fall
The gun cries again and the stag he falls
By the trees and the pool
he makes one last cry and his body goes cool
The spirit of the stag
Leaped up and flew
And frightened the men
As he galloped across the dew
poem by Cheetah Girl
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Summer Rain Came Suddenly
Summer rain came suddenly
and you and she
had just got off the school bus
and had to run for shelter
and so entered the wood
and settled beneath some trees
which at least kept off
some of the rain
and as you both stood there
looking about the woodland
and listening to the rain
fighting its way through
the overhead branches and leaves
smelling the rain smell
hearing the sound
of rain falling
she said suddenly
That was unexpected
one minute the sun's shining
the next the downpour
and she turned
and looked at you
raindrops falling down
from her hair onto
the side of her nose
and sitting there
for a few moments
then sliding down
and moving along
her cheek
and you wiped
the drops off
with the end of your finger
and she took your finger
and mouthed it
and licked off the rain
and held your finger
in her hand
and said laughing
That was my raindropp
and you saw
how her lips parted
and in such a way
that you sensed
an inner explosion
of what you thought of
as love and said
Rain is rain
it's got its own smell
and touch
and feel
and she moved her lips
to your finger
and licked it once more
and you laughed
and felt your heart leap inside
and she said
releasing your finger
Love is love
something like rain
something you feel
and sense and know
and she kissed you and said
Mum' ll wonder where I am
we'd better go
and moving out
from beneath the trees
you ran off together
into the falling rain
all over again.
poem by Terry Collett
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The poetess, the moon...and the woods Pt1
A tear traced a path on her cheek in the moonlight
As her lips brushed the brow of her sleeping child
She stood still for a moment, with eyes closed tightly
Corners of lips pulled up… in a winsome smile
Strode heavily to the open window
stared out into the woods, soft lit by the moon
Then with a sigh pulled down the window
And quietly tiptoed out of the room
Glanced in at her husband, long asleep in their bed
And in her mind gave him a kiss on the top of his head
Then sat at her desk and finished her poem
Sat back and reviewed it… one last time
It was about her life… and about her home
And about the glow of the woods in the moonshine
She nodded her head… as if in agreement
With the words that she had carefully, composed
Her finger touched “enter” with determined intent
Then her whole body slumped in repose
From the corners of her eyes, she saw the moon rise
Oe’r the woods from out of her window
A teardropp fell softly to her desk as she stood
And walked through the door for the very last time
She looked up at the moon and then strode into the woods
She had posted her last poem…her very last rhyme
poem by David Whalen
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Martha' Crucified.
Martha had this thing
about the Crucified.
The image, the cross,
the stretched out arms.
The one in the convent
school along by the chapel
always caught her eye.
Stood there staring.
Get a move on Martha,
the nun said. Don't gape so.
Or the image in the dining
room stuck up on the wall
above the abbess's table.
Painted on she thought.
Not the same. Her mother
had the one her mother
gave her on her deathbed.
Old wood and plaster.
The plaster peeling from
the hands of the Crucified.
Martha gaped at Him,
at His wounds, at the wound
in His side where the spear
went in. Forgive them for
they know not. They did so,
the bastards, she muttered,
putting her fingers on the wound
in the side. She had an ebony
rosary in her skirt pocket. Black
Christ on the small ebony cross.
She fingered in her pocket, said
the prayers, felt the stiff body
on the cross. Sometimes she
took it out and kissed it; the ebony
body, the head, the arms. Once
she had a cross around her neck,
silver, small, given by some old
codger. She felt it warm between
her small breasts. Lost it when she
took it off to wash and it slipped
down the plughole in the convent bog.
She knew her mother had this wooden
crucifix on her chest of drawers.
A dark wood, a fleshy plastered Christ,
nails through and hands and feet.
She kissed the hands when her mother
was out, her lips touching the smooth
plaster, the eyes closed, the feel of
smoothness on flesh. Not the real
Christ of course. Least not yet.
She'd wait her turn. The real thing.
See what death and Heaven bring.
poem by Terry Collett
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Dead Speak Nothing
Body is mortal
Subjects to decay on death's arrival
I shall be of my own now feet
I don't know how shall I be able to meet?
You will be slipped into memory
I shall remember you all the times and feel sorry
It will only add some tension along with worry
I got to get along with unfinished task to carry
I sob slowly and keep quiet
Gather little strength for your body to let
You will taken off after last rites
You will be just faded memory and of the sight
Each passing of the day may pose problem
I shall have to fight and counter them
You were towering strength and source of inspiration
Holy and so close unforgettable dad- daughter relation
Your little smile gave me enough of courage
Even in dark I was sure and able to manage
You stood there for me all the times
I may now wake up in dream sometimes
'Please, you all move to one side' the voice shook my head
They were about to lift the body and take it as dead
He was no more to be seen in coming days
They were taking him far and miles away
I touched and bowed your feet
The last and memorable moment to touch and greet
I sensed it like wood with mo movement
Your soul was taken away as if to be sent
I may have to look at little stars
Sometimes I may see you above and very far
Will you talk to me dad and show the way?
You were till the last sun shine and ray
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Jane and Bullfinch Eggs
Those are Bullfinch's eggs
Jane said
pointing at
the 5 eggs
in a nest
hidden in a hedge
and as she pointed
you imagined
that some god
modelled all female fingers
on that before you
how the nail was set
so perfectly
on the finger's tip
the colour pinkish white
the skin almost blending in
we mustn't disturb
she added
or the mother bird
will fly away
and not return
oh right
you said
gazing at the eggs
once her finger
had been removed
from the hedge
you studied
the pale blue eggs
speckled there
and sensed her presence
near your cheek
the lavender
that she wore
the way her hair dark
coming to her shoulders
was tied back
from her face
some collect them
Jane said
and pierce the top
and bottom
and blow through the contents
and have them on display
do they?
you said
seeing the sad expression
she wore
why is that?
you asked
she stood back
from the hedgerow
and looking at you
with her dark eyes
said
because they must have
they have to collect
what is there
for all to see
they must just have
for themselves alone
the May sun
was shining warm
and she took your hand
in hers and walked
you on along the lane
the small stream running
by the lane's edge
her grey skirt
and white blouse
and white socks
giving her a plain look
but her eyes lit up
and she smiled again
and you wanted
at that moment
as she held your hand
for that hour
to be there forever
not to be lost
thinking you knew then
the depth of love
and not its loss
of that
and feeling sense
and not the cost.
poem by Terry Collett
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Body is mortal
Body is mortal
Subjects to decay on death's arrival
I shall now be of my own feet
I don't know how shall I be able to meet?
You will be slipped into memory
I shall remember you all the times and feel sorry
It will only add some tension along with worry
I got to get along with unfinished task to carry
I sob slowly and keep quiet
Gather little strength for your body to let
You will taken off after last rites
You will be just faded memory and of the sight
Each passing of the day may pose problem
I shall have to fight and counter them
You were towering strength and source of inspiration
Holy and so close unforgettable dad- daughter relation
Your little smile gave me enough of courage
Even in dark I was sure and able to manage
You stood there for me all the times
I may now wake up in dream sometimes
"Please, you all move to one side" the voice shook my head
They were about to lift the body and take it as dead
He was no more to be seen in coming days
They were taking him far and miles away
I touched and bowed your feet
The last and memorable moment to touch and greet
I sensed it like wood with mo movement
Your soul was taken away as if to be sent
I may have to look at little stars
Sometimes I may see you above and very far
Will you talk to me dad and show the way?
You were till the last sun shine and ray
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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My Soul Mate
As the waves crashed against my body
the refreshing cool water relaxed me
but as he drew near I became hot and anxious
for him to take me into my world
in this world I’m untouchable
invincible
unstoppable
in a degree it’s almost dangerous
for me to be in
as he inched closer to me
I felt my knees become jelly
I found myself starting to slip
into my world
he grabs my hand under the water
with his soft
gentle
loving hands that comforted me
make me feel safe and loved
in his arms is where I belong
for all eternity
as he pulls me close butterflies
start in the top of my stomach
and end up dragging on the bottom of the water
at that moment
time stood still
there were no minutes
no days no years
nothing as if someone had pushed puased
to their favorite movie
at that moment when time stood still
our eyes met for the first time
in my world
as we bolth gazed into eachother's eyes
he searched for something and found it
my soul he now has a part of my soul
and I have a part of his
in that same sweet
incredible
moment we became something so
life changing that we wouldn't be the same ever again
we became
soul mates
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Not For Me
Not for me she said
I don’t want to end up
like my mother
I want to reach out
and touch real life
and not end up
some man’s wife
and be endlessly
at his beck and call
and she sat
by the pond
looking over
to the other side
where the woods were dense
and reached out
and touched your hand
and you wondered
if there were still fish
in the pond
and if when
you brought your rod
the following day
you’d catch any
and you liked the way
the sunlight caught
the pond’s skin
and she said
I want to feel
being alive
feel the electric of life
run through my veins
and she leaned over
and kissed you
and placed her hand
between your thighs
and touched the hardness
of your crotch
and you said
do you know how big
the fish was
that got away
when I fished here last?
And she said
no but I know how big
the one I’ve caught is
and laughed
and released her hand
and gave you one
of her stares with her
large passionate eyes
and you noticed
a lone big bird in black
moving across
the bright blue skies.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Forest Pool
LOST amid gloom and solitude,
A pool lies hidden in the wood,
A pool the autumn rain has made
Where flowers with their fair shadows played.
Bare as a beggar's board, the trees
Stand in the water to their knees;
The birds are mute, but far away
I hear a bloodhound's sullen bay.
Blue-eyed forget-me-nots that shook,
Kissed by a little laughing brook,
Kissed too by you with lips so red,
Float in the water drowned and dead.
And dead and drowned 'mid leaves that rot,
Our angel-eyed Forget-me-not,
The love of unforgotten years,
Floats corpse-like in a pool of tears
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Unfinished requiem
A bird is flying,
But I see only the flight in itself,
The movement.
I close my eyes and I can touch it,
I close my eyes and I can feel it.
The sound of motion hurts my ear.
It is a movement in itself,
And inside of me,
It is like a scream.
Someone shoots
The wing of the bird,
And I feel the movement of the air,
Generated by the falling bird.
I understand, in a second,
My love for you.
It is a relic of a feeling,
Slipped into that place from where the white bird
Collapsed,
Like the soul from the moment to eternity.
My thinking with your name on it
Remains, seemingly, attached to that place,
As a red stain on the blue sky,
Which needs to become white
Between the eyelids,
Only pain can be continuously crushed
And transformed into tears.
Between the saints,
Only God gathers perfect feelings,
Our feelings,
That makes us capable to reach Him.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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By Loe Pool
The pool glitters, the fishes leap in the sun
With joyous fins, and dive in the pool again;
I see the corn in sheaves, and the harvestmen,
And the cows coming down to the water one by one.
Dragon-flies mailed in lapis and malachite
Flash through the bending reeds and blaze on the pool;
Sea-ward, where trees cluster, the shadow is cool;
I hear a singing, where the sea is, out of sight;
It is noontide, and the fishes leap in the pool.
poem by Arthur Symons
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My Apocryphal Song of Songs
Song of Songs: Chapter one
When my darling is still slumbering
the blanket drawn up to her chin,
lying peaceful
I am without words
when the day brake red across the mountain’s comb
she is still stretched out
while the sun lovingly
stirs its first fingers
and when she moves
her big golden bracelet shines
pearls around her neck glitter
like the dewdrops
outside on the grass and trees,
like the golden colour of the sun
that now hangs high above the horizon
and I can catch the first white gleaming
of her smile
the morning wind swirls
singing over the glory
that she brings to my life
her eyes glitters brighter than the heaven
with their own rays and meaning
that is caught in her glance,
she looks lovely and fresh
and I know that God is blessing me
with her presence,
where He binds us together
in moments of time.
Song of Songs: Chapter two
I want to feel the rays of sun in your eyes
being lost over my body,
bending over your body
I want to take the core out of your soul,
I want to feel the pulse beat of your heart
in your naked breast,
through the pleasure and pain of this life
I want to long day after day for you
and abate all my passion, all my joy in you,
carrying you along through the times of my life,
catching moments in the glory of bliss,
making you to my most honourable aspiration
and tonight I want to come to you,
to make you mine.
Song of Songs: Chapter three
When I saw you
words curled up in my mouth,
my voice suddenly became hoarse
and I were wondering how your smile looks
while you were looking in my direction
and suddenly my thoughts were blunted off
when I saw passion in your eyes,
in my thoughts I had undressed you already,
removing your garments one by one,
but when your lips were burning beneath mine,
our conversation had dried up altogether
and we melted into each other: eye into eye.
Song of Songs: Chapter four
Your first kisses caught me,
with your bright eyes
later your lips were against my cheek
after which you and I
wanted more intimacy
with intensity hanging in every moment,
the sound of your voice was like the singing of birds
and closer contact we could not avoid
we french kissed
like mature people do
this kind of thing
with joy and scouting
and your eyes were full of intense wishes
with moments of passion and tenderness.
Song of Songs: Chapter five
When I stood below your window,
the light in you room went on suddenly
but it was no love-song,
but poems that I was presenting to you
of my love that I held out to you,
like a bush of red roses
and I believed
that you could hear them
right through your sleep.
Song of Songs: Chapter six
Early in the morning, when the fog was concealing the world,
your breath was caught against my cheek,
when the sun’s first rays were teasing with long fingers.
Early in the morning when the fog was concealing the world,
your breath was like the wind over mountains and valleys
while mist hanged like the breath of the world in the basins,
early in the morning when the fog was concealing the world,
when the sun’s first rays were teasing with long fingers.
Song of Songs: Chapter seven
Early morning with the call of guinea fowl in the field
the morning is already preparing,
the rays of the sun break through the nightly cloak,
the sun breaks through the nightly wall
with the day spreading to everywhere
like the gleaming of your eyes she smiles broadly.
Early morning with the call of guinea fowl in the field
the morning is already preparing,
and between you and me there’s an invisible band
that binds the essence of love with an oath,
you are with me through all happiness and sorrow,
I feel you nearness, even you small soft hand
early morning, with the call of guinea fowl in the field.
Song of Songs: Chapter eight
To sing of your beauty, I want to catch nature,
causing the sun’s rays to splash brightly on your cheek,
with my feelings at times caught in a labyrinth
we are bonded in the dark night to each other
with kisses hanging over our entire bodies.
Your eyes are bluer than the sky, your hair threaded out by the wind
and when you sleep I am already longing,
but in the mornings I too blinded by your smile
to sing of your beauty.
Sometimes you twist beneath me like a pretty snake,
the knowledge that we are mortal scares me,
I see the autumn tinted into your hair,
while you smile in a noble and innocent way like a child,
I try to catch that which is between us in words
to sing of your beauty.
Song of Songs: Chapter nine
In the pool of the fountain
the sky reflects cobalt blue
and shadows fall over the inner court
and there is images sprouting whirling in my mind
of me and of you
in the pool of the fountain
and you are like an angel surrounded by sunshine
where we cling to each other dripping wet
and shadows fall over the inner court
and even the wind blows with a song, a refrain
and there are pure white lilies that I look at
in the pool of the fountain
and the time spent with you is noble and pure
while we try to stretch moments to preserve them
and shadows fall over the inner court
drawing the two of us, line fall upon line
the sky reflects cobalt blue
in the pool of the fountain
and shadows fall over the inner court
Song of Songs: Chapter ten
With your lovely face
and bright blue eyes
you can at any time disrupt my life,
a single word causes me to believe in your love,
your soft lips, the blush on your cheek
and bright blue eyes
holds me captured,
the sound of your voice,
your soft lips, the blush on your cheek
clenches around my heart,
with your soft hand folding around mine,
the sound of your voice
is that of a beautiful woman
and with knowledge of how perfect you are to me
with your soft hand folding around mine,
you surprise me time and again.
With your lovely face
and with knowledge of how perfect you are to me
you can at any time disrupt my life.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Song Of Keats
'TIS a tarnished book and old,
Edges frayed and covers green!
But, between the covers, gold —
Gold and jewels in between.
And this written (see, O see!
How old Time has made it dim)
'For one song Keats gave to me
I kneel down and worship him.'
He who wrote these lines is dust;
All of him is passed away;
Some hand closed his eyes, I trust,
Drew the blind to darken day.
Did lips kiss him at the end,
Love-lips tremulous yet brave?
Had he mistress, child, or friend
To sow green grass upon his grave?
Nay, we know not — it is long
Since he tired of Life's deceits,
Closed his ears to sigh and song,
Parted with this book, JOHN KEATS.
Year by year the Poet thrives;
Summer smiles and winter weeps;
La Belle Dame Sans Merci lives,
But a heart that loved her sleeps.
Who would woeful go to miss
Roses red in thorns arrayed,
When he might with surer bliss
Love a milkwhite Devon maid?
Beauty kindles man's desire,
Beauty dwindles, growing faint;
But the girls who never tire
Are the girls that poets paint.
When the moon has taken wings
And the twilight hour is come,
Grey the woods, and no bird sings:
Grey the world beyond, and dumb:
Neither light is there nor breeze,
Rose to redden, thorn to pain;
Till, look! look! Among the trees
A sudden bird! a scarlet stain!
So he tired of Fate's defeats,
Life's dead trees and woodlands grim,
Till sudden-sweet a song of Keats
One magic moment gave to him.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Our First Time
We were young kids just learning about life.
But we found we had deep rooted feelings for one another
As we met to get together for the very first time
we gave each other a pecked kiss (our first)
We pulled each other close, and our hands held each others arms.
As we looked into each others eyes, there was a passion
Beginning to rise.
Our mouths joined together and we started experimenting
Our very first French kiss.
We felt our blood boiling to a high crescendo, and then
Crashing down like the waves against the shores.
Our mouths searching hungrily for more.
The kiss lasting for a few minutes, and the passion
And excitement taking control.
Finally I pulled away from her warm, soft, sensuous lips
And we stared into each others eyes again.
She slowly took her hands from my arms and started
To unbutton my shirt while looking me in the eyes.
My heart was pounding even faster now, as she took
Off my shirt, dropping it to the ground.
I in turn did the same thing to her blouse, removing it from her body.
She then removed my t- shirt leaving me bare chested.
I took off her bra, and we pulled each other closer
Where our chests were touching, and the heat and passion
Made us become as one.
I then unbuttoned her slacks, and let them dropp to her ankles
And started to remove them slowly.
She in turn did the same to me.
We looked at each other in our under wears and pulled
Each other close again.
Feelings and emotions that we never experienced before
Started to fill every part of our beings.
The blood pulsating thru our veins felt as if it was on fire.
Our hand caressing each other, exploring ever so gently.
Our lips joined together again in a kiss of passion and delight.
It was becoming harder to control our desires, and
The need for fulfillment.
I put my thumbs on the sides of her under wear and slowly lowered them to her feet, and removed them.
She did the same to me, slowly removing mine and taking them off.
Again! We embraced as our bodies became as one, moving
In unison in a slow moving rhythm.
Our loins on fire, burning with desire.
I lowered her to the ground as I continued looking into her eyes
And then I positioned myself above her in anticipation
Of entering her body and soul.
My blood to a boiling point, and my head feeling like
It was about to burst. I felt my legs and arms trembling
As I started to lower myself down and as I *****I *****
I woke up from this dream. A DREAM!
Ha-ha -life can be bad.
poem by Louis Rams
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In A Small Moment
(carly simon)
In a small moment
She accepted credit for something she did not do
She said shed done the water color in her bedroom
But it was done by a friend from school
Just a little lie
No one would discover
At least not very soon
In a small moment
Just a little lie
When she wasnt looking it just slipped on by
In a small moment
In a restaurant where she worked the late night shift
She short changed a sailor and made five
You could never really call it a theft
Just a little lie
Swept up in her apron and kept as a well deserved gift
In a small moment
Just a little lie
When she wasnt looking it just slipped on by
In a small moment
She cheated on her lover and placed it in the back of her mind
As long as nobody knew the truth about her
It could never really be unkind
Just a little lie
That slipped beside her as she tossed and turned in her alibis
In a small moment
Just a little lie
When she wasnt looking it just slipped on by
Just a little lie
When she wasnt looking it jsut slipped on by
Slipped on by
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whirl pool
Whirl pool
On lake...
At through the stones...
water...
Rund rund...
Arund...
Whirl pool...
A Simply beauty...
The rain drops on
On pool water...
Many many
Little...little...
whirl pool
Run and rund to be...
Play the pool...
It was nature wool
With cool...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Memory Of Water
(music: marillion lyrics: john helmer)
I wonder if my ropes still hanging from the tree
By the standing pool where you drank me
And filled me full of thirsty love
And the memory of water?
wonder if a king still fishes there
His back toward the burned out air
His laughing catches singing loud
The memory of water
Your taste is blood and ecstasy
But I must drink you all alone
Youre freckled like a speckled egg
A dove but this bird has flown
O stay with me sweet memory
O stay with me
Wonder if my ropes still hanging from the tree
By the standing pool where you drank me
As pain flows through me like champagne
Of the memory of water
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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