En.Citatepedia^®.ro

That Austen Guy.

Here's your fare
for the bus to school

your mother said
but some days you walked

and spent the money
on doughnuts at the bakery

on the way to school
and you felt them warm

through the white paper bag
the baker had put them in

and you ate them on the way
then licked your fingers clean

like some fingery blow job
and Ed Sutcliffe met you

in the playground and said
You got sugar around your mouth

and he pointed
with his ink stained finger

and so you wiped
around your mouth

with your tongue
until all was clean

and you said
That Ok?

and he stared
at your mouth and lips

and said
Yeah that's better

and you said
Where's O'Brien?

He hasn't come yet
Sutcliffe said

but Austen's here
he drove up in his sports car

a few moments back
you sighed and looked

towards the place
where he parked his car

red and flashy
I suppose he'll be

in his usual
bullying mood again

said Sutcliffe
holding up

the clay pots
and saying

Look at this specimen
of a pot

and hold it
up for the class to see

Don't remind me
you said

Austen's a fink
with a face of pits

like the surface
of the moon

and Sutcliffe laughed
and it kind of eased

his nervousness
and you saw

in his blue eyes
that sharp fear

that people have
when another dies.

poem by Terry Collett
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Card Swapping

O’Brien brought
cigarette cards

to school
and showed you

what he had
in the playground

and Davis said
who’s the dame?

Veronica Lake
O’ Brien said

holding the card out
between finger and thumb

Sutcliffe took hold of it
and held it close

to his eyes
not bad

he said
you looked over

Sutcliffe’s shoulder
my dad likes her

you said studying
the picture

taking it
from Sutcliffe’s hand

who else you got?
Davis asked

and O’Brien fingered
through the pack

mostly soccer players
and the odd movie star

he said
hey got any Marilyn Monroe?

Sutcliffe said
gazing short-sightedly

at O’Brien’s hands
what’s a matter Eddie

got the hots for her?
Davis laughed

and Sutcliffe pulled
a face

wouldn’t say no
he muttered

wouldn’t say no?
O’Brien said

why Eddie you wouldn’t know
one end of a dame

from the other
you’d end up kissing

the wrong cheeks
Sutcliffe pulled a face

I’ll swap you
for the Veronica Lake

you said
holding it close

to your school jumper
sure

O’Brien said
and you swapped him

with a soccer player
you had three of

and he took it
and tucked it in his pack

and you put Veronica
in your jacket pocket

nice and snug
between the pages

of a jotting book
save and sound

waiting for
your bedtime look.

poem by Terry Collett
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Shared Cigarette

O’Brien held the cigarette tight
Between forefinger and thumb
He placed it between lips and
Inhaled. Danny Davis wanted
A drag too and Eddie Sutcliffe
Stood like a young pup waiting
For his chew on the bone. They
Watched the end of the cigarette
Flare up in the early winter cold
Eddie rubbed his hands together
In anticipation. You kept an eye
Out for school prefects or any
Odd teacher who might happen
To venture forth into the school
Playground. I liberated this from
My dad’s packet, O’Brien said
Taking the cigarette from his lips
And passing it over to Davis who
Took a quick drag then gave it to
Sutcliffe who held it like a girl
Having her first kiss. No one was
Coming, so you had a quick drag
After Eddie had left drips of dribble
And inhaled the smoke. O’Brien
Made a comment about some
Girl he’d had or so he said the
Night before. Davis guffawed
Loudly, but Sutcliffe stood there
Opened mouthed while you
Half smiled and wondered if it
Was true about the girl’s arse
Or just some smutty joke

poem by Terry Collett
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The women I killed were filth - bastard prostitutes who were littering the streets. I was just cleaning up the place a bit.

quote by Peter Sutcliffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I thought 'God, what have I done?'... I realized I would be in serious trouble. I thought the best way out of the mess was to make sure she could not tell anybody.

quote by Peter Sutcliffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I remember a time when everybody I loved hated me because I hated them. - Letter to Stuart Sutcliffe circa 1960

quote by John Lennon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting By The School Gates

Look who's over
by the school gates
Reynard said
and you looked over

and there was Christina
with her school bag
over her shoulder
and her hands tucked

in the pockets
of her green coat
see you tomorrow
Reynard said

and walked on
giving Christina a stare
as he did most girls
finding them an enigma

yet to be solved
when you got
to where Christina was
she took her hands

out of her pockets
and put a hand
on your arm
I wish I was going

on the school bus
with you
then I could sit next to you
and I could tell you

about myself
and not have to cram
everything into a rush
of words as I do

at school
you looked over
to where the school bus
was waiting

you still had
five minutes
or so before
it took off

and you knew
Fred the driver
always did
a head count

before hand
don't you wish
I was there
on the bus too?

she asked
squeezing your arm
with her fingers
you turned

and looked at her
sure I do
you said
but you live here

and I live miles away
I know
she said
and I miss you

once your bus goes off
and I know
I won't see you
until the following day

and the weekend is worse
because then
I don't see you
for two whole days

other kids
passing through
the school gates
stared at you both

and Hill said
come on
or you'll miss
the bus

and he laughed
and moved on
and Christina stared
after him and said

what's his problem?
and you said
oh he hasn't been born yet
he gets this way

and she laughed
and said
maybe I'll come
on the country bus

to your village
and we can meet?
sure that'd be good
you said

and her eyes lit up
and she smiled
and leaned
towards you

and gave your cheek
a peck
and you said
look I got to go

and you took her hand
and gave it
a quick kiss
then turned

and walked quickly
towards the bus
knowing her eyes
were following

your every step
and that maybe
she dreamed
of you at night

and imagined you
beside her
and her dolls
and Teddy Bear

and you in turn
maybe imagined
at night
you too were there.

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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The secondary school announced the result of a list of successful candidates

Went down to the playground, principal had a talk.

Walked in a hard step, took a deep breathe.

Our class teacher gave us the result paper,

Everyone was silent,

No any voice, No any noise,

I can only hear thousand of breathing sound.

Hold tightly, ready to open,

3...2...1...,3...2... I can’t,

I am not brave enough to open it.

It was going to be ok.

I think for a while,

Closed my eyes,

My excitement came to my heart, but sadness was waiting for me.

I slowly opened the paper finally gradually.

Opened my eyes slowly,

Wahl! My tears went through my both eyes.

I don’t want to go to this school,

I was thinking, oh well… I can apply for another school, may be it worked.

My class teacher was convincing me to go to this school,

My mother was thinking the solution for me.

I went out to the school door, took a slowly walk,

I really didn’t know what I can do,

Worrying, deeply anxious and struggling,

I tried to think about the advantage of this school.

Yes! I pick this school. I‘ll do well!

poem by Jenkin Tsui
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Look Forward

'Hi friend, how are you? '
Looked back; To my surprise - 'You? '
'Yeah, yeah, you never turned back'.
'Sorry late night, so didn't look back '.

After years I saw him, very thin.
On a single blow to flee unseen.
'Working where' I asked.He silenced.
May be of no job, I guessed

He walked back and forth.
Looked funny and fishy in truth.
He worded, 'what are you doing?
O' know in a paper mill you're working '.

I doubted him to spy me long.
A school mate viciously wrong,
Left out and forgotten by everybody,
Now holding me. Around us was nobody.

Hour passed, he said bye.' Hold on
What are you' I went on.
'Ghosting' answered to vanish. Felt something
God! since then I don't look back!

poem by Indira Renganathan
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Chocolate Cake

I love chocolate cake.
And when I was a boy
I loved it even more.

Sometimes we used to have it for tea
and Mum used to say,
'If there's any left over
you can have it to take to school
tomorrow to have at playtime.'
And the next day I would take it to school
wrapped up in tin foil
open it up at playtime
and sit in the corner of the playground
eating it,
you know how the icing on top
is all shiny and it cracks as you
bite into it,
and there's that other kind of icing in
the middle
and it sticks to your hands and you
can lick your fingers
and lick your lips
oh it's lovely.
yeah.

Anyway,
once we had this chocolate cake for tea
and later I went to bed
but while I was in bed
I found myself waking up
licking my lips
and smiling.
I woke up proper.
'The chocolate cake.'
It was the first thing
1 thought of.

I could almost see it
so I thought,
what if I go downstairs
and have a little nibble, yeah?

It was all dark
everyone was in bed
so it must have been really late
but I got out of bed,
crept out of the door

there's always a creaky floorboard, isn't there?

Past Mum and Dad's room,
careful not to tread on bits of broken toys
or bits of Lego
you know what it's like treading on Lego
with your bare feet,

yowwww
shhhhhhh

downstairs
into the kitchen
open the cupboard
and there it is
all shining.

So I take it out of the cupboard
put it on the table
and I see that
there's a few crumbs lying about on the plate,
so I lick my finger and run my finger all over the crumbs
scooping them up
and put them into my mouth.

oooooooommmmmmmmm

nice.

Then
I look again
and on one side where it's been cut,
it's all crumbly.

So I take a knife
I think I'll just tidy that up a bit,
cut off the crumbly bits
scoop them all up
and into the mouth

oooooommm mmmm
nice.

Look at the cake again.

That looks a bit funny now,
one side doesn't match the other
I'll just even it up a bit, eh?

Take the knife
and slice.
This time the knife makes a little cracky noise
as it goes through that hard icing on top.

A whole slice this time,

into the mouth.

Oh the icing on top
and the icing in the middle
ohhhhhh oooo mmmmmm.

But now
I can't stop myself
Knife -
1 just take any old slice at it
and I've got this great big chunk
and I'm cramming it in
what a greedy pig
but it's so nice,

and there's another
and another and I'm squealing and I'm smacking my lips
and I'm stuffing myself with it
and
before I know
I've eaten the lot.
The whole lot.

I look at the plate.
It's all gone.

Oh no
they're bound to notice, aren't they,
a whole chocolate cake doesn't just disappear
does it?

What shall 1 do?

I know. I'll wash the plate up,
and the knife

and put them away and maybe no one
will notice, eh?

So I do that
and creep creep creep
back to bed
into bed
doze off
licking my lips
with a lovely feeling in my belly.
Mmmmrnmmmmm.

In the morning I get up,
downstairs,
have breakfast,
Mum's saying,
'Have you got your dinner money?'
and I say,
'Yes.'
'And don't forget to take some chocolate cake with you.'
I stopped breathing.

'What's the matter,' she says,
'you normally jump at chocolate cake?'

I'm still not breathing,
and she's looking at me very closely now.

She's looking at me just below my mouth.
'What's that?' she says.
'What's what?' I say.

'What's that there?'
'Where?'
'There,' she says, pointing at my chin.
'I don't know,' I say.
'It looks like chocolate,' she says.
'It's not chocolate is it?'
No answer.
'Is it?'
'I don't know.'
She goes to the cupboard
looks in, up, top, middle, bottom,
turns back to me.
'It's gone.
It's gone.
You haven't eaten it, have you?'
'I don't know.'
'You don't know. You don't know if you've eaten a whole
chocolate cake or not?
When? When did you eat it?'

So I told her,

and she said
well what could she say?
'That's the last time I give you any cake to take
to school.
Now go. Get out
no wait
not before you've washed your dirty sticky face.'
I went upstairs
looked in the mirror
and there it was,
just below my mouth,
a chocolate smudge.
The give-away.
Maybe she'll forget about it by next week.

poem by Michael Rosen
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The Mouth!

Everything that goes mouth is sensual!
the toffee run up and down,
the noise to blow up a tasty gum,
the mouth open in surprise!

Oh! ! ! !

Everything in your mouth is sensual!
the cleaning of its corners with the napkin,
the clicking of his tongue before you saying yes,
the soft against your lips when they meet one another!

Ah! ! ! !

Everything in ours mouth is sensual!
the dropp we exchanged wet through
Ours lips moving slightly,
Our kisses!

Hummm!

Everything in ours bodies is sensual!
what gonna in yours mouth!
What remains in it and
All that comes an goes!

Ui! ! ! ! !

poem by Mirna Morgan
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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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Olive Eater.

And oh
she said

she was always
saying that

he thought
watching her place

an olive in her mouth
and oh

she repeated
this is not

what I expected it
to taste like at all

and she licked
two of her fingers

one after the other
and quite sexually

he mused
sitting opposite her

in the French cafe
taking in

her bright eyes
and the openness

of her mouth
and the tongue licking

and she said
I thought it’d have been sharper

more exciting
more out of this world

and he thought
how simple she is

how childlike
in her expression

and in the way she utters
her words

and she looked at him
and said

what are you thinking?
What’s going on

in that bright brain of yours?
And he said

oh that would be telling
wouldn’t it

that would be
allowing you

into my head
and she laughed

and sat there
with her wet fingers

just before him
as she waited

to pluck another
olive off the plate

and he allowed his eyes
to settle like butterflies

on her breasts
just momentarily

just sufficiently
to drink in

the beauty there
and she said

do you want one?
Do you want an olive

to eat or suck?
No no

he said
and thought

I’d like another
fresh fruit

to touch
and pluck.

poem by Terry Collett
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Word Of Mouth

Ive been trying to get a message to you,
But the operator cant put me through,
Because the vandals went and wrecked all the telephones.
And all my enemies are spreading bad news,
You wont call me, thats why Im calling you,
To put you straight about the rumors theyre spreading about me back home.
I should have known, sooner or later,
Youd get the news, sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
Somehow we lost communication,
My only chance in my situation,
Is that the word of mouth gets my message through.
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth says that Ive gone insane,
That wine and women have affected my brain.
Well whos the big mouth spreading the news again?
The word of mouth says Im round the bend,
Its all over, this is the end.
Exaggeration sure gets the better of people who send[? ].
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth said I should be put in my place.
The word is out Im in disgrace -- a waste of space.
But if they say it, say it to my face.
People talking, trying to dig up the dirt,
There are so many lies around.
They spread their gossip and the rumors around this town.
Word of mouth, face to face,
My word of mouth has stated my case,
And Im saying Im coming back home to you.
You should have know sooner or later,
Youd get the news sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
The word of mouth,
Shut your mouth,
Shut your face!

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heat of Hunger

'Jesus took the Loaves,
Gave thanks,
And distributed them.'

In a bakery the poor baker rolls the dough with water and his sweat.
Bakery owner is a registered miser among the poor folks
Who never throws a bread crumb to a crow.
The stray smoke rises from chimney to the helpless sky in its usual rhythm
And I see a man who sits on the pavement just opposite the bakery.
He must be a homeless and he thinks if he's the baker
Then he could have swallow a cookie easily.
Saliva comes out from his toothless mouth
Like in a leaked urban tap.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Figurehead

The sharp and open
Leave me alone
And sleeping less every night
As the days become heavier and weighted
Waiting
In the cold light
A noise
A scream tears my clothes as the figurines tighten
With spiders inside them
And dust on the lips of a vision of hell
I laughed in the mirror for the first time in a year^
A hundred other words blind me with your purity
Like an old painted doll in the throes of dance
I think about tomorrow
Please let me sleep
As i slip down the window
Freshly squashed fly
You mean nothing
You mean nothing
I can lose myself in chinese art and american girls
All the time
Lose me in the dark
Please do it right
Run into the night
I will lose myself tomorrow
Crimson pain
My heart explodes
My memory in a fire
And someone will listen
At least for a short while
I can never say no to anyone but you
Too many secrets
Too many lies
Writhing with hatred
Too many secrets
Please make it good tonight
But the same image haunts me
In sequence
In despair of time
I will never be clean again
I touched her eyes
Pressed my stained face
I will never be clean again
Touch her eyes
Press my stained face
I will never be clean again
I will never be clean again
I will never be clean again
I will never be clean again

song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Hundred Years

It doesn't matter if we all die
Ambition in the back of a black car
In a high building there is so much to do
Going home time
A story on the radio
Something small falls out of your mouth
And we laugh
A prayer for something better
A prayer
For something better
Please love me
Meet my mother
But the fear takes hold
Creeping up the stairs in the dark
Waiting for the death blow
Waiting for the death blow
Waiting for the death blow
Stroking your hair as the patriots are shot
Fighting for freedom on the television
Sharing the world with slaughtered pigs
Have we got everything?
She struggles to get away . . .
The pain
And the creeping feeling
A little black haired girl
Waiting for saturday
The death of her father pushing her
Pushing her white face into the mirror
Aching inside me
And turn me round
Just like the old days
Just like the old days
Just like the old days
Just like the old days
Caressing an old man
And painting a lifeless face
Just a piece of new meat in a clean room
The soldiers close in under a yellow moon
All shadows and deliverance
Under a black flag
A hundred years of blood
Crimson
The ribbon tightens round my throat
I open my mouth
And my head bursts open
A sound like a tiger thrashing in the water
Thrashing in the water
Over and over
We die one after the other
Over and over
We die one after the other
One after the other
One after the other
One after the other
One after the other
It feels like a hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
One hundred years

song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Push

Go go go
Push him away
No no no
Don't let him stay
He gets inside to stare at her
The seeping mouth
The mouth that knows
The secret you
Always you
A smile to hide the fear away
Oh smear this man across the walls
Like strawberries and cream
Its the only way to be
Exactly the same clean room
Exactly the same clean bed
But i've stayed away too long this time
And i've got too big to fit this time...

song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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School is Fun!

School is fun, it is a place were you listen, learn & play!
School is a place for u to stay! study and make friends its always the same!
School are for teachers to teach and janitors to clean! students must keep their class room clean!
School are for students to learn new things, especially when it comes to tests, exams and other different things!
School are for children who love's to learn and study, its a place for you to love eachother one another so have fun in school and play!

poem by Iyakami Haroki
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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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