The Girl Who Held Your Hand
You got on the coach
for the day trip
organized by the chapel people
for kids who were poor
and this girl
sat next to you
and said
you can be my boyfriend
for the day
and she took hold
of your hand
and gave it a squeeze
and you looked out
of the window
at your mother
standing there
looking up at the coach
and you thought
is this part of the deal?
Is this girl for real?
And Mother waved
and smiled
and you smiled
uneasily back
with the girl’s hand
holding yours
out of sight
and she looked
over your shoulder
and waved
but no one
waved back to her
because her mother
wasn’t there
maybe she was off somewhere
or had to go to work
or maybe
she was still in bed
with another uncle
beneath the sheets
and maybe
he was holding her hand
and she was holding
something you never knew
or cared about
just sitting there
waving to Mother
beneath a sky of blue.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rachel and You and The Day Trip
It was a day trip out
to some seaside place
arranged by the Gospel church
for kids whose parents
were poor
and having got on the coach
you sat in a seat
by the window
and waved at your mother
standing on the pavement
along Rockingham Street
and she waved back
then this girl sat beside you
who you didn't know
and she smiled and said
all right if I sit here?
sure
you said
and looked back out
at your mother
and waved again
and she waved back
and you thought
who is this girl?
and why is she
sitting next to me?
and she looked at out
the window
and waved to her mother
who started talking
to your mother
and they both waved back
to you and the girl
and you said
do you want to sit
by the window?
and she said
ok yes that'd be nice
and so she got out
and you got out
then she got in
and sat
by the window
and you sat
down beside her
and then the coach
started up
and drove off
and you both waved
at your mothers
until they were out of sight
and the girl turned
and said
I'm Rachel
this is my first time
to the seaside
and you said
you can walk around
with me if you want to
and she said
that'd be good
I don't know
anyone else here
and so she did
all day
walked around with you
along the beach
and on the sands
making sandcastles
and in the cafe
where they took you all
for a meal
of fish and chips
and she talked
and talked
and smiled
and laughed
and once she took
hold of your hand
and it seemed
for a while
that she was happy
at least it seemed so
by the width of her smile.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Summer Recess of 62.
It was the second day
of the summer recess
and Judith and you
walked through the field
behind her house
and sat down on the grass
the sky above blue
like an upside-down ocean
with the white clouds
like small fluffy islands
and she said
Mother doesn't trust you
why not?
you asked
she doesn't trust any male
she says they're all after
the one thing
you looked at her
sitting there beside you
her hair brown and curly
and her eyes blue
and bright
and you said
not all males
are the same
she looked up
at the sky
and said
I know but that's
how she sees things
my mother likes you
you said
she says you're good for me
keep me focused
she smiled
and lay back
on the grass
and you lay
beside her
and turned
to look at her there
taking in her profile
and she turned
to face you
and she said
does your mother
trust us to be together?
sure she does
you said
an airplane
went over the sky
a sparrow hawk
hovered above
its eyes watching
and waiting
you put your hand
on her hip
and she placed
her hand on yours
you felt her hipbone
beneath her green skirt
moved your palm
gently over and over
she moved your hand
off of her hip
and said
just in case
mother's looking at us
from the upstairs window
would she?
you asked
of course
she said
she held your hand
and took it
and laid it
on her breast
her heart
somewhere beating
your hand sensing
the softness beneath
the white blouse
and she said
just as well
she never saw us
last Christmas
and you smiled
and remembered
and the sparrow hawk
flew off through the sky
and the sound
of a distant train
and your heart thumping
like the downpour of rain.
poem by Terry Collett
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Christina and You and Home for Lunch
As you went by
the girl's playground
after getting off
the school bus
Christina called to you
through the wire fence
and said
my mother said
you can come home
for lunch today
if you like
ok
you said
where shall I meet you?
Cedric will bring you along
she said
and so when
the lunch time
recess bell rang
you followed Cedric
out of the school
and saw Christina
by the outer fence waiting
are you sure
your mother doesn't mind?
you asked
of course not
she said
Cedric walked on in front
leaving you and Christiana
to walk on behind
she talked about some girl
in her class who had a boyfriend
and claimed
to have had sex
and then she went on
about the teacher
who had been expelled
for taking pupils home
in his lunch hour
it was boys though
she added
and then you came
to her house
and she took you in
and there was her mother
in the kitchen
nice to meet you
she said
Christina has talked
about you so much
Cedric behind
his mother's back
was making gagging gestures
with his fingers
down his throat
Christina looked at you
and smiled
nice to be here
you said
are you sure it's all right
me coming?
of course it is
Christina's mother said
now sit down
and I'll serve up for us all
and so you all sat down
around the table
and Cedric looked at you
then looked down
at his knife and fork
and Christina said
glad you're here
and she put a hand
over yours
and gave your hand
a squeeze
then removed it
when her mother
set down the plates
and then sat down herself
and you all began to eat
in an unusual silence
Christina giving you
a bright eyed stare
and Cedric looking
over your shoulder
as if you weren't there
after lunch their mother
cleared the table
of plates and went off
and Cedric went
into the lounge
leaving you and Christina alone
what do you think?
she asked
about what?
you asked
my mother
what do you think of her?
she seems nice
you said
she gets depressed a lot
Christina said
but today
she was at her best
oh right
you said
sorry she gets depressed
come on
Christina said
I'll show you my room
you raised your eyebrows
won't your mother mind?
you asked
not if she doesn't know
Christina replied
isn't it a bit risky?
you said
yes
she said
that's what makes life
so interesting
so you followed her
and tiptoed up the stairs
and she showed you
her bedroom
and her favourite doll
and other favourites of hers
lined along her bed
then she kissed you quickly
and then stood back
and smiled and said
best go down now
or she'll wonder
where we are
and so that was it
and as you followed her
down the stairs
you could hear the radio
playing some classical music
and her mother
humming along
and sounding quite happy
and Christina giving you
another kiss
behind her mother's back
and after saying thank you
to her mother
you all left
to return to school
the clouds promising rain
and so back to school
and the boring lessons
once again.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Day Jane Fainted
Jane fainted in the town
by the coach
on Saturday morning
and her mother
and other women
were around her
and you stood
a little way away
wondering what
had happened to her
I think it must be
that time of the month
you heard one woman say
maybe
her mother said
but she's not usually
like this
she added
will she be all right?
you asked
bending down
next to one
of the women
who had gathered
her mother looked at you
and said
yes it happens
at certain times
of the month
oh right
you said
none the wiser
gazing at Jane
at her dark hair
her eyes closed
her features
white and sweaty
best give her some air
her mother said
and you all stood up
and her mother
fanned her
with her hat
then after a minute or so
Jane opened her eyes
and said
what happened?
I went all funny
and everything went white
you fainted
her mother said
waving the hat
in front of Jane's face
I want to get up
Jane said
and so you
and her mother
helped her
to her feet
and she leaned
against the wall
of the bank
and looked around
she'll be all right now
a woman said
it happens
another said
after a few minutes
they went off
to the shops
leaving you
and your mother
and Jane
and her mother
standing by the coach
I'll be all right now
Jane said
ok
her mother said
and you all walked
along the street
to the shops
Jane walking behind
with you
her hand stealthily
reaching down
for yours and giving it
a little squeeze
then releasing it again
looking up at the sky
which had become dark
threatening rain.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Window
Little Sophie sat by her window
on every single day,
just looking for someone
with whom she could play.
The streets were full of people
but none of them she knew.
She waved at them as they went by
and some of them waved too.
But they were busy people
going everywhere.
None of them had time for play,
no time to spare.
Her sisters and her brother
all went to school.
She could not go. She was only four
and that was against the rule.
So by the window Sophie sat
and one day someone smiled.
It was a mother passing by
with her little child.
And after several days of this
a knock came at her door.
It was the mother with her child
who also was just four.
The mother said 'My little one is lonely.
She needs a friend like you.'
So Sophie clapped her hands and said
'I know what we can do.'
And so they played for hours
and then her friend did say
'Can we sit by your window
and wave to people today? '
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Washing Windows
Your mother used to sit on the window
Ledge of the tenement building and
Wash the windows of each of the rooms.
She’d push back the shutters and just
Sit there with a bucket of warm water
And a cloth and wash away. You were
Always afraid she’d lean too far back
And fall out and down to the ground
Several storeys below with a heavy crash
And break bones or neck or maybe die.
But she’d just sit there her legs holding
Onto the wall beneath her and push her
Right hand holding the damp cloth
Over the glass while her left hand held
The metal bucket tight swishing the warm
Water as she moved back and forth like
Some lone trapeze artist on the high wire
Without apparent fear or knowledge of
Was going on in the street below with the
Passing of the walking dead as Father used
To say and Mrs Febrile sitting on her window
Ledge with her daughter watching gossiping
And nosing about who did what to whom
While all the while you were frightened of
Your mother slipping out the window waving
Her hands and arms as she fell to her doom.
poem by Terry Collett
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Im The Girl
Ive got a memory
A thousand years old
And I know secrets
Ive never been told
And Ive got jewels
I havent found
And theyll return me
To the ground
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
And Im a siren
Ill wreck you on my shores
And Im godiva
Ill call you back for more
And Im medusa
And Im your favourite doll
And Im a georgia okeefe
Hanging on your wall
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
Im joan of arc
Im the girl next door
Im the mother and the daughter
Of the mother and the daughter before
And I remember being born just sound and light
And sound and light and light
And I remember the first time, skin on skin in the arms
In the arms of the night
Well how many times have we looked up into the starry skies
And how many times have we felt the passion rise
Every ruby-lipped girl baby, old lady, squaw junkie, girl after girl after girl
Every muse, whore, good witch, princess, back arching, year after year after year
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
Im joan of arc
Im the girl next door
Im the mother and the daughter
Of the mother and the daughter
The mother and the daughter
Of the mother and the daughter
The mother and the daughter
Of the mother and the daughter
Before.
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Cedric Said About His Sister.
Cedric followed you
around the playground
at high school
it seemed he wanted
to say something to you
but instead he just followed
you around until
as you stood looking over
at the playing field
where kids were gathering
in their break period
he said
my sister likes you
how do you know?
you asked
because she told me
he replied blushing
looking over at the playing field
isn't she your twin?
Yes
he said
going red
gazing at his sister
standing with a group
of friends on the field
you looked over at the girls
at Cedric's sister waving a hand
so that's Christina
yes
he muttered
the one with the dark hair
and waving a hand
then he went silent
and looked at you
Mother said she's too young for boyfriends
he said after a few moments
but she doesn't listen
she does what she wants
so she told me to tell you
she likes you
and so you nodded
and waved your hand
back at the girls
and there was an explosion
of giggling and laughter
and waving of hands
and then they ran off
onto the field
and as they ran off
you noticed Cedric's sister
had a cute butt
but you didn't tell him that
you just turned and said
fancy a game of ball?
and he just nodded
and said nothing more
about his sister at all.
poem by Terry Collett
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A Matter of Trust on a Summer's Day
Jane's mother said
she was up by the church
and so you went up
the path leading
to the church of St Mary
and there she was
laying some flowers
on a gravestone
she looked up
as you approached
and smiled
your mother told me
you were here
you said
I think Mother
must like you
she wouldn't
have told you
otherwise
Jane said
getting up
from the graveside
and brushing her hands
on her summery dress
who are the flowers for?
you asked
looking at the flowers
placed in a small jar
on the grave
a parishioner
we used to know
who used to like
this type of flower
oh I see
you said
looking at the graves around
and the Downs further back
and the trees nearby
where did you want to go?
you asked
how about a walk to Cocking?
we can do some shopping
while we're there
and enjoy each other's
company in the process
is it far? you asked
a mile or so
she replied
ok
you said
and you followed her
down the path
and along the lane
to her house
and you waited outside
while she went inside
after a few minutes
her mother came out
with her and said
it's very good of you
to go with Jane
all that way
I wouldn't like her
to go alone
that's all right
you said
and she smiled
and went in side
and Jane said
see she trusts you
not many boys
around here
she'd say that to
oh right
you said
looking at
her dark hair
and her eyes
gazing at you
and her hand
holding a shopping bag
and her lips
breaking into a smile
come on
she said and
so she took
your hand
and you walked
along the lane
keeping close
to the hedgerow
the sun warm
and the sky blue
and you sensed a joy
of it being
just her and you.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When my mother was dying in the hospital, he thought, when she knew her end was coming, it was not me she looked to but someone who stood behind me: her mother or the ghost of her mother. To me she was a woman but to herself she was still a child calling to her mother to hold her hand and help her. And her own mother, in the secret life we do not see, was a child too. I come from a line of children without end.
quote by J.M. Coetzee
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Mother Mother Mother
How you cared for us. Don't keep away from us.I won't surive without you/ Mother Mother Mother Your eyes show me the way. When I fall on my way. You lend me a hand to carry on. Mother Mother Mother You had a very hard life. But you gave your baby your own bread from your own mouth. When she feels hungry. Mother Mother Mother If I pass though this word. I wouldn't find you anywhere. Your sweet smile makes me happy. Mother Mother Mother My love for you will go on forever. I love you my Mother Mother Mother forever and ever. written 6/23/08 Posted 10/27/08 In the memory of my mother Esther Ferber Klayton
poem by Susie Sunshine
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Mother the biggest gift of Allah to us
Mother the biggest gift of Allah to us
Mother the candle burn herself to light our life
Mother the other name of kindness
Mother who hold us nine month and suffer
Mother who feed us from her blood and milk
Mother stays sleepless all the nights holding us
Mother teach us how to walk and talk
Mother guides us and secures us
Mother loves us from start to end
Mother is mother no one can take her place
poem by Mohammed AlBalushi
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Wile Watching the Black and White TV
Your old man
came into the lounge
where you were watching
black and white TV
and your mother was standing
talking to an uncle
it's the baker
your old man said
he wants his £50
what £50?
your mother asked
the £50 I owe him
well pay him
your mother said
I can't
I don't have it
you watched
the cowboy film
with half interest
you took a glance
at the debtor
well tell him
you'll pay him
next week
your mother said
I told him that
last week
your old man said
what did you want
to borrow £50
from the baker for?
your mother asked
her cheeks getting flushed
to buy my new suit
what new suit?
the one I'm having made
you noticed
your old man's
moustache flicker
and he stroked it
as he did
when cornered
your mother
breathed heavy
and you looked
at the uncle
ok
the uncle said
here's the £50
go pay him
what you owe
to get him off your back
but you better pay me back
or I'll bust your head
sure I will
your old man said
going out of the room
clutching the money
in his palm
your mother sighed
and the uncle
put away his wallet
into an inside pocket
and you saw that one
of the cowboys
on the black and white
TV screen
had been shot
and died
the other looked angry
and ugly
and mean.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Touch Of Your Hand
On the day that you were born
I touched your hand so chubby and warm.
I touched your hand when you were one
and helped you walk my beautiful son.
I held your hand when you were two.
We ran, your favorite thing to do.
I held your hand when you were three
as you climbed on my lap and smiled at me.
I touched your hand when you were four
as the ocean touched our toes at the shore.
I touched your hand when you were five
walking you to school but when we'd arrive
I felt the tug of your hand from mine
and I knew that we had crossed a line.
I looked at you and released your hand
and said'it's okay I understand.'
As I walked back home I cried some tears
thinking of all our hand holding years.
Holding your hand became sporadic now,
when you were feverish or I felt your brow.
I held your hand a few times as a teen
but always alone so it wouldn't be seen.
I held your hand after you said, 'I do.'
We danced together just me and you.
After some years went by my son
you held the hand of your little one.
And so the times of your life turn around
and now that my hand is old I've found
you take my hand and help me walk
and as you do we intimately talk.
And it takes me back to that bright early morn
when I held your hand so chubby and warm.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Mother In Law
(a. toussaint)
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
The worst person I know
Mother in law, mother in law
She worries me so
Mother in law, mother in law
If she leaves us alone
We could have a happy home
Sent from down below
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
Satan should be her name
Mother in law, mother in law
To me theyre about the same
Mother in law, mother in law
Everytime I open my mouth
Steps in trying to put me out
How could you stood so low
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
Come home with my pay
Mother in law, mother in law
She asks me what I made
Mother in law, mother in law
She thinks her advice is a contribution
If she would leave that would be the solution
Dont come back no more
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law....
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jealousy
She wore braids in her hair
every single day.
Not because she wanted to.
It was her mother's way.
She braided them so tightly.
She thought her head would break.
Sometimes just the thought of them
would make her poor head ache.
'Why can't I have my hair
flowing down my back?
Her mother's frown would let her know
to try some other tact..
'Mother can we cut it
just above my shoulder? '
the answer that was given was
'Not until you're older.'
And so she wore her hair like this.
She never wore it down.
When at night she unbraided it
she looked just like a clown.
She knew she would cut it
the very next day
right in front of her mother
to see what she would say.
Her mother watched and sat down
and had a cup of tea.
Her mother simply said
'Now you're more beautiful than me.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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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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Daddy Please Don't Hurt Mommy
A little girl stood crying as the father beat the mother,
next to the girl stood her older sister, and older brother.
Alcohol was the demon that drove the beating hand,
the mother bruised, and sobbing cowards from the man.
Why does daddy do that thought the little girl?
Oh how I hate my father, he's the worst person in the world.
The mother now alone in the bedroom with a razor above her wrist.
'Please mommy don't do it, ' the youngest child did persist.
The father starves the mother, three days in a row,
the little girl hates her father, yet the father is too drunk to know.
Is alcohol the problem or does there exist more?
The little girl's answer comes from her sobbing mother lying hurt on the cold, hard floor.
poem by Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson
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Hiroshima
Mother oh Mother
our bark has blistered
our bones weep fire
our branches melt
Mother our eyes
are burning birds
the sun hangs bleeding
beneath our lids
Mother our earth
sucks back its foliage
Mother the sky
is split with pain
in every stone
our fire weeps
in every eye
your children burn
Mother Mother
I am a weeping hand
your breasts
are bone
poem by John Garth Raubenheimer
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Mother
My mother
Once was
The centre
On my circle maker
My mother
Once was
The warmth
Around a cold hand
My mother
Once was
The smile
On a pensive face
My mother
Once was
The rule
To run rings around
My mother
Once was
The champion
Of assurance and affection
My mother
Once was
The guide
Through a foreign land
My mother
Is now
The open window
Of a tamed bird
My mother
Will always be
In my heart
And part of me.
poem by Stevie Taite
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