En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Two Bricks Over A Hole

You were sitting on the grass
outside your tent

at the base camp
along the road from Tangiers

smoking a cigarette
when Mamie came along

and stood with her arms folded
and her red hair damp

and her face flushed
like a spanked behind

Have you seen the latrines?
She asked

No not yet
you replied

she took a deep intake
of breath and then said

I expected at least
a white bowl

but there are just two bricks
over a hole in the ground

and no paper
to wipe yourself afterwards

you exhaled smoke
and said

You're meant to
take your own with you

Your own latrine?
She said angrily

No your own bog roll
you said

she sighed
and looked down

towards the beach
reaching to

the Mediterranean Sea
I haven't unpacked

my bags yet
she said

and you gazed at her
standing there

in her pink shorts
and white open necked blouse

and tried not
to imagine her

crouched on two bricks
over a hole

in the ground
her legs bent

her panties by her ankles
and her backside

mooning over the hole
Well

she said moodily
At least now you know

what to expect
and went off

towards the beach
her hips swaying

side to side
her taut buttocks

captured in her pink shorts
and the midday sun

touching your head
in a kind of blessing

with its heat
and you inhaled

smoke again
remembering the rain

coming through
Franco's Spain.

poem by Terry Collett
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What Might Have Been.(Poem)

You had been in Tangiers
until the early hours

of the morning
and was brought back

to base camp on the truck
as the sun was beginning to rise

over the horizon
and had then gone

to crash down
in your tent

too tired to undress
and slept through

until midday
then showered

and sat in the bar
when Mamie came

and sat beside you
and said

where'd you go last night?
I thought you

were going to walk me
down by the beach

and watch the sun rise
from the sea?

I was too tired
you said

I crashed out in my tent
she looked at her glass of coke

I could have joined you there
she whispered

and done what?
you said

slept beside me?
she shifted her buttocks

on the stool and said
well it would have been better

than sleeping in my tent
with that Scottish hen

as her brother calls her
you sipped your drink

and watched
the old Moroccan guy

in the corner
inhale on his marijuana smoke

plus I had her snoring
and moaning in her sleep

Mamie added
giving you her side on stare

yes
you said

it would have been
better than that

and she put her hand
on your thigh

and rubbed it back
and forth and said

but it didn't happen
maybe next time

you replied
imaging it all

in your mind
right down

to the last removing
of clothes

and trying to move
in the tent's small space

your body drained
of all strength

wanting only sleep
the Tangier booze

and belly dancers
and nightclub smoke and music

clinging on your flesh
and ringing in your ears

and she trying
to get you in

the right place
and you closing your eyes

and drifting away
like one who dies.

poem by Terry Collett
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Tangiers 1970

The Mediterranean Sea
caught the moonlight

as you wandered the beach
with Mame

she grabbed your hand
and kissed your cheek

isn't it out of this world?
she said stopping

and looking into your eyes
and breathing out

her peppermint breath
you smelt the sea salt

felt the slight breeze
coming across the sea

wouldn't you rather be
with one of the other guys

than be here with me?
you said

gazing at her fuzzy hair
her light blue eyes

oh piss the other guys
it's you I like

she said
brushing a hand

through your hair
pulling you in closer

to her small tight breasts
don't you like me?

she asked
I thought you fancied me

the way you kept staring at me
on the coach and in Tangiers

you heard the Berber drums
and voices from the camp base

coming on the wind
and wondered if the others

would guess she'd taken you
down the beach

for something romantic
or tumble in the sands

with all lips and hands
well?

she asked
standing there

in her flowered
two piece bathing cloth

sure I do
you muttered

sensing her hand
reaching down

your jeans
seeking an erection

a sign of interest
do you ever think

of those ancients
who may once

have stood
where we now stand?

you said
how they too

may have stood
beneath a sky

and stars
and moon like us?

she stood back and stared
and uttered coldly

no I haven't
and couldn't give a cuss

and off she went
up the beach

to the base camp
on smooth sands

and rough tufts of grass
and oh how she knew

to wiggle
her small tight ass.

poem by Terry Collett
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Hole In My Head

Remember yesterday?
Driving down the M4
The sun lit up your face
Playing all the tunes
Feeling like a child again
The pain has been erased
I feel much better anyhow
Until I see that black cloud
I got a hole in my head
And it's making me sad
Got a hole and the world keeps looking in
Got a hole in my head
And it's making me sad
Got a hole and the world keeps crashing in
Stop looking in
Hide it all away
Keeping your heart inside a box
That no one else can take
Smile it all away
Holding back a thousand lies
But that was yesterday
I love it when she comes around
Until I see that black cloud
I got a hole in my head
And it's making me sad
Got a hole and the world keeps looking in
Got a hole in my head
And it's making me sad
Got a hole and the world keeps crashing in
Got a hole in my head
Got this song in my head
Waiting for the sun to come around
Waiting for the sun to come around
Take another smoke
I though you said you'd given up?
And does your mother know?
Take another rest
Holding out my hand again
I hope that we're still friends
I got a, I got a, I got a, I got a...
I got a hole in my head
And it's making me sad
Got a hole and the world keeps looking in
Got a hole in my head
And it's making me sad
Got a hole and the world keeps crashing in
I got a hole in my head
And it's making me sad
Got a hole and the world keeps looking in
Got a hole in my head
And it's making me sad
Got a hole and the world keeps crashing in

song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Julie and You in Trafalgar Square

Julie sat on one
of the fountain walls
in Trafalgar Square
and lit a cigarette

she looked about her
as if she were onto
something harder
as if she had some one

looking at her
from some secret place
you gazed at her
unused to seeing her

not in her hospital
dressing gown
and slippered feet
her hair had been brushed neat

and makeup applied
and she said
I was picked up here
some months back

by some guy
who wanted sex
he thought
I was a pro

and the things
he asked for
god that was the worse
and with that

she paused
and stared at the Square
at the people
and the pigeons

and she inhaled deep
and then exhaled
blowing the smoke
out of the corner

of her mouth
like you'd seen done
in the movies
what did you say

to the guy
who picked you up
and what did he want
you to do?

she looked at you
her eyes scanning
your features
and then leaning closer

she said
I told him I wasn't
a whore and to go off
some place else

you watched her fingers
holding the cigarette
the way she held it
between her fingers

as if it was some
precious item she'd found
what did he want you to do?
you asked

he wanted sex
in all my orifices
she whispered
before inhaling again

the cigarette was clamped
between her lips
and she rubbed
her fingers

on her jeans
she screwed up her eyes
against the smoke
my grandfather said

if it wasn't for whores
more women
would be raped
and attacked

you said
that guy was a creep
he smelt of strong aftershave
and body odour

she said
what a combination
you said
she stumped

the cigarette butt
onto the wall
and flicked it
across the Square

let's go and view the art
in the Gallery behind us
she said
and you followed her

to the Portrait Gallery
her buttocks swaying
like some ship at sea
the jeans tight

and clinging
and across the Square
church bells were pulled
and were ringing.

poem by Terry Collett
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After A Dance At Malaga

In Malaga
at the base camp
you danced at some disco
and drank Bacardi

and coke and it was
well into the early hours
of the morning
when you left

with Mamie
tiptoeing between
tent ropes and the unlit
areas between

and she said
I can't find
where my tent is
and you said

I'd let you share mine
but that young army guy
is in mine
and three in a bed

is a bit cramped
but where is mine?
she said
searching around

touching tent ropes
as she went by
you stood watching
trying to decide

where your tent was
what are we to do?
she asked
let's go back

to the club
until it gets lighter
or we remember
where our tents are

you said
but I'm tired
she said
I want to go to bed

and sleep
you searched around
by the hedge of the field
and then said

wait
I know where
mine is now
and you led her

to the tent
and unzipped it
and there inside
was the army guy

fast asleep
you can come in here
if you like
you said

but she just stood there
in the semi dark
cussing into the night
come on in

and be quiet
you said
I want my tent
she said

I want my own bloody tent
ok go find it then
you said
and began to climb inside

wait
she said
in a hushed voice
and came over

to your tent
and looked in
what about him?
she asked

he's asleep
you replied
what will he say
and finds me here?

you gazed
at the sleeping soldier boy
his mouth open
his eyes closed

a soft snore
filling the air
either come in
or go elsewhere

you whispered
I can't
she said
not with him there

and so she turned
and wandered off
into the semi dark
another chance walking off

into the night
some things you hope for
you murmured
never come right.

poem by Terry Collett
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Julie and You and Christ

Julie was walking
down Oxford Street
with you

one of her hands
was in yours
the other was holding

a cigarette which she put
to her lips and drew on
and exhaled the smoke

and said
pushing smoke
into the world

do you think Christ
ever came?
of course

you replied
the whole calendar
of the Western world

is spilt before and after
his coming
she inhaled deeply

and stopped to peer
in a shop window
don't like that dress

it's too darn middle class
too safe
you looked at the dress

in the window
at the colours and style
would your mother where it?

you asked
she'd wear it
but I wouldn't

be seen dead in it
she said
moving you on

squeezing your hand
reminding you
of the quick grope

and sex in the small cupboard
off the ward
where she was staying

while trying to kick
the drug habit
she spread out

amongst brooms and boxes
and you there gazing at her
wondering if some domestic

would find you there
well? do you think
Christ really came?

she asked
yes
you said

he split history in two
he made people
either love him

or hate him
and want to destroy him
and what he stood for

she laughed and said
you certainly got him
under your skin

I don't think he came at all
she said
before inhaling

her cigarette smoke
I think it was all
a big joke played out

on the Jews
to get them riled
she inhaled

her cigarette smoke
and was silent
as you walked on

down the Street
it was no joke
being crucified

no joke hanging there
on that cross
you said

she pulled you
into a shop doorway
and kissed you

and said
oh forget about him
and his crucifixion

I've had enough
of the parents
ramming him

into my brain
over the years
and she kissed you again

and you looked
into her dark eyes
where you thought

many a dream comes
and drowns
and dies.

poem by Terry Collett
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Ace In The Hole

Some people say Jesus that's the ace in the hole
But I never met the man so l don't really know
Maybe some Christmas if I'm sick and alone
He will look up my number
Call me on the phone and say :
Hey, boy, where you been so long
Don't you know me
I'm your ace in the hole
Two hundred dollars, that's my ace in the hole
When I'm down, dirty and desperate
That's my emergency bank roll (I got . . .)
Two hundred dollars, that's the price on the street
If you wanna get some quality
That's the price you got to meet (and the man says...)
Hey, Junior, where you been so long
Don't you know me
I'm your ace in the hole
(talk about ace in the hole)
Once I was crazy and my ace in the hole
Was that I knew that I was crazy
So I never lost my self-control
I just walk in the middle of the road
I sleep in the middle of the bed
I stop in the middle of a sentence
And the voice in the middle of my head said
Hey, Junior, where you been so long
Don't you know me
I'm your ace in the hole (oh yeah)
Ace in the hole
Lean on me
Don't you know me
I'm your guarantee
Riding on this rolling bus
Beneath a stormy sky
With a slow moon rising
And the smokestacks driving by
In the hour when the heart is weakest
And the memory is strong
When time has stopped
But the bus just rolls along
Roll on, roll on
Roll on, roll on
Roll on, roll on
Some people say music that's their ace in the hole
Just your ordinary rhythm and blues
Your basic rock and roll
You can sit on the top of the beat
You can lean on the side of the beat
You can hang from the bottom of the beat
But you got to admit that the music is sweet
Where you been so long
Don't you know me l m your ace in the hole (oh yeah)
Ace in the hole
Lean on me
Don't you know me
I'm your guarantee
Some people say music that's their ace in the hole
Just your ordinary rhythm and blues
Your basic rock and roll
You can sit on the top of the beat
You can lean on the side of the beat
You can hang from the bottom of the beat
But you gotta admit that the music is sweet
Hey, Junior, I'm your ace in the hole
Hey, Junior, I'm your ace in the hole
Hey, Junior, I'm your ace in the hole
Hey, Junior, I'm your ace in the hole

song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hole In My Head

Hole in my head
hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
Let's just say we will and then don't instead

Wild goose chase
Wild goose chase
You're gonna take me boy on a wild goose chase
You're gonna take me boy on a wild goose chase
You better find somebody to take my place

You took my imagination and stomped it inthe ground
Now I can only think about you
chasin' the tracks that you left around

Hole in my head
hole in my head
Oh I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
You make me feel so bad that I wish I was dead

Let the games begin
Yeah here I go again
I'm never gonna win

It must have knocked me crazy
it must have hit me hard
People must think I'm lazy
Like my shuffle's short
of playing a card

Wild goose chase
Wild goose chase
Oh I need a boy like you
like a wild goose chase
I need a boy like you
like a wild goose chase
You better find somebody to take my place

Let the games begin
Yeah here I go again

I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)

I need a boy like you
Like a hole in my head
Hole in my head
Hole in my head

Hole in my head
Hole in my head

Like a hole in my head

I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)

song performed by by Dixie Chicks from Fly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smokin The Herb Again

Yo yo yo, yo, yo yo what
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Damn, I really wish I could find my sack man
Must have got eaten by pac-man
If I had it I could smoke again
Smoke with my friends to the very end
But now Im trying to comprehend
Whens the next time that Ill smoke again
I need to know, please tell when will we smoke again
I got a buddy, his name is ted
Hes got a problem going through his head
He doesnt know how to puff puff give
But I like so Ill teach him and Ill let him live
Everyday we teach him right
When he divides, we have to fight
But at the end of the trying day
We says its ok and we puff away
Just the other night, I saw you, you were smokin not sharing and being tight
But thats ok, you are my friend, well smoking until the very end
The lessons that we put out, we order you to try it out
Its nice to smoke, yea thats what were all about
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Hey, ho, hey ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking everywhere
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking all together
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again

song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Naming of Things.

That's a Small Skipper
Jane said

And that's a Clouded yellow
as two butterflies

flittered overhead
as you both lay

in the tall grass
on the side

of the Downs
and you followed

her finger
as it indicated

the butterflies' flight
and then they were gone

and she gazed at you
and said

What?
How do you know

the names of things?
I'm a country girl

not a townie like you
she replied

her lips moulding
the words like a potter

moulds clay
and you caught a whiff

of her perfume
carried on the calm breeze

over your heads
and you looked

at her there
in the grass

her head turned back
to the sky

her eyes reflecting
the summer blue

and her left leg
bent upwards

so that her knee
stood naked

beneath the sun
and her right hand

lay next to yours
the white blouse

open at the neck
and she said

I often used to lay here
alone listening

to the overhead birds
and the winds' moan

watching tractors
in the fields below

and mother wondering
where I was

And now?
you asked

Does she wonder
where you are now?

she turned her head
and gazed at you

No not now
she knows I'm with you

and that I'm showing you
the store of nature

and the panoramic view
And she trusts you?

you asked
sensing her hand

touch yours
the flesh warm

and soft
She trusts you

Jane said
and another butterfly

fluttered by
like a ballerina overhead.

poem by Terry Collett
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Beach Volleyball

beach volleyball today.

you wear your cap
to protect you from the sun.

you wear your beach shorts
blue shorts with big white flowers
prints.

you walk barefoot.
and then you decide to walk straight
to the internet cafe.

and you are here now.
you do not like
anybody else.

cruel world. hot sun. your flight
is still tomorrow morning.

another loud night.
an impatient self trying to be
completely silent.

shut.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sports Day 1962

It was sports day
at high school

and the field and tracks
were crowded with

teachers and kids
and the sun was out

causing sweat
and heat rash

and Reynard said to you
that girl who fancies your ass

is waving to you
over by the small wood

of trees and bushes
so you looked over

and saw Christina
waving a hand at you

leaping up and down
her short gym skirt

rising and falling
as she leaped

showing off
now and then

her dark green panties
mind she don't eat you

Reynard said
and walked off

to watch the races
as you wandered over

to where she stood
at the edge

of the small wood
don't you look

the sexy beast
in your black shorts

she said
eyeing you over

her right hand smoothing
down your white tee shirt

are you running?
she asked

yes a short sprint
you replied

anything more than that
and I'm buggered

she looked at the field
holding her hands

in front of her
and you gazed

at her white legs
and white ankle socks

and black plimsolls
I'm in the relay race

she said
I‘ll have to watch

to see when my turn comes
then she turned to you

and said
have you been inside the wood?

you looked behind you
no not so far have you?

yes we went there
in science looking for bugs

and such
she said

maybe you could show me
you said

what?
bugs and flowers

and butterflies
you replied

she smiled at you
maybe but teachers might be watching

or other kids or prefects
and what if my brother Cedric

sees us enter
and tells my parents?

just a science tour
to see all nature's gifts

you said
tell them that

if any see us go
and you watched her

fumble with her fingers
looking around the field

and whispered softly
no.

poem by Terry Collett
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Beneath a Morrocan Sky

You could tell
by Mamie's face
she was sick

of shish kebabs
in fact it seemed
that the whole Moroccan holiday

was kind of getting
to her sensibilities
from the standing

on the two brick toilets
to the shish kebab
food misadventure

let's go walk
on the beach
she said

before I throw up
with this crap
and so you walked

with her down through
the path to the beach
the moon and stars

above in a black
patchwork sky
the sound of the sea

rushing in and out
and the voices
of the others

getting less
and less
and she said

looking up at the sky
isn't scary that sky
why is it scary?

you asked
it's so vast
like it goes on forever

she said
I think Pascal found
the immensity

of the night sky
disturbing
you said

Pascal?
Is he on the coach?
Is he on the tour?

she asked
no he was a mathematician
and physicist and inventor

and Christian philosopher
in the 17th century
oh right

she said
boring shit
come on let's get

on the beach
and lay down
and stare

at the sky
and stars
and that bright moon

and then we can snuggle
up close
and we'll see

what comes
and she pulled you
onto the beach

and the damp sand
eased itself
between your toes

and the smell of the sea
hit you
and the sounds

and the wind
from off the sea's shoulder
and she pulled you

down on the beach
beside her
and you lay back

and looked up
and the vast sky
seemed to press down

on you both
and she laughed
and said

it kind of makes
you seem small
and insignificant

doesn't it
she said
you felt her hand

in yours
a soft pulse
of her being

right there
like a small beeping drum
and she turned

and looked at you
and smiled
and her smile was captured

by the moon's glow
and you said
we need to remember

this moment
this being here
this newness of being

and she laughed
and said
don't get too deep on me

and she leaned in
close to you
and kissed you

and her tongue
entered you
and the whole sky

seemed to witness
the moment
seemed to want

to embrace the kiss
the bright humanness
in her moonlit face.

poem by Terry Collett
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Lowdown

Pop
I dont want to throw away my time
Playing games I dont respect or like
I cant give away my sovereignty
To existence with no song of me
And the hole in my heart
Im lowdown
Theres a hole in my heart
Im low
Theres a hole in my heart
Im lowdown
Theres a hole in my heart
Im low
I built myself a beautiful brick wall
Gets a little higher every day
_? _ ignorance inhabits me
Cause Ive already chased my love away
And the hole in my heart
Im lowdown
Theres a hole in my heart
Im low
Theres a hole in my heart
Im lowdown
Theres a hole in my heart
Im low
Take that happy banner off the wall
I dont need to see no smiling face
All I really wants a cup of tea
To feel a warmth inside of me
And the hole in my heart
Im lowdown
Theres a hole in my heart
Im low
Theres a hole in my heart
Im lowdown
Theres a hole in my heart
Im low
Theres a hole in my heart
Im lowdown
Theres a hole in my heart
Im low
Theres a hole in my heart
Im lowdown
Theres a hole in my heart
Im low

song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After School Walk

After lessons at junior school
coming down the bricks stairs

Helen said
can I walk home with you?

Sure
you replied

and she set off with you
along St George's Road

the traffic and smoke fumes
setting the scene

she in her school frock
and cardigan

and white ankle socks
beside you in your grey jacket

and grey short trousers
and she said

I don't usually walk home alone
but mum said I can walk home

with you save her coming along
to the school with the other kids

and pram with baby
you took in

her two plaits of hair
and thin framed glasses

with large lens
which made her eyes

larger than they were
her small hands

by her side
a small school bag

over her shoulder
and did you know

Janice likes you?
Her grandmother

told my mother
the other day

after school
but I like you better

do you like me?
she asked

you noticed
she had small white teeth

with a thin brace
along the top

sure I do
you replied

I like Janice too
but you I like more

and she smiled
and put her right hand

in yours and squeezed it
and you smiled

but hoped none
of the other boys around

noticed the hand holding
after all a tough boy

has a reputation to maintain
and as you squeezed

her hand back
clouds darkened

and it started
to piss with rain.

poem by Terry Collett
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Game of Golf

Golf is my brothers passion, my sister-in laws as well
From where l'm standing Oh! my word it looks like a game from hell
Legs astride back is bent and the arms down all stretched out
Now it's time to hit the ball and give it one good clout

Then they do the walking and try to find the ball
If it's in the right spot then their walking tall
Will they reach the 18th hole without getting in the rough
Will it pour with rain until, they say we've had enough

Will one beat the other, will it end in tears
But then l guess if it gets that bad, they'll down a good few beers
Is it really worth though bending, stretching, hitting
No l'm sorry not for me, l'd rather just be sitting

I guess they'll go on playing, well the fresh air does them good
l'm not so sure about the rest of it, l do not think l could
Walk around in the rain, hitting putting sighing
Little white balls in the air, god, they go a flying
Through the air down the green and in a tiny hole
Only to take it out again, is this really reaching a goal

You'll find them every weekend playing on the green
Wearing funny clothes and shoes, like you never seen
They'll push on round the golf course, until they reach the end
In and out of all them holes, they're clearly round the bend.

poem by Dianne Anderson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What?

Beside a multi-colored beach ball a young man lies on the white sand on a beach
A tall, suntanned woman hides herself
On the other side
Changing her pink bra
and you were there
thirsty
looking
completely finding what you have been looking

tell them

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jane and You and the Hollow Tree.

Jane waited for you
by the narrow road
that led to Linch farm

the water tower visible
against the afternoon sky
of pale blue and white

cold clouds
she was dressed
in a grey coat

and her dark hair
was pinned back
with grips

you noticed
blueness
about her lips

the cold taking toll
wasn't sure
if you would show

she said
the coldness
and such

I said I would
and I say
what I mean

you replied
once you were close to her
she took her hands

out of the coat pockets
and linked her arm
through yours

where shall we go?
she asked
you know it better

around here than I do
you choose
you said

let's go up
the dust track
to the hollow tree

on the way up
to the Downs
she said

ok
you said
and so you walked along

and up the dust track
side by side
and she talked

of the wintery trees
and what birds
there were still about

and how she liked
spring best with the coming
of flowers and birds nesting

and you listened
looking at her
as she spoke

watching her lips move
how when she spoke
her white teeth showed

and now and then
her tongue would show
and it reminded you

of that kiss she gave you
up by Diddling church
as you stood looking

at the grave stones
and she gazed at you
and then kissed

and her tongue
touched yours
and it was like heaven

as if someone
had opened up
your heart

and stuck
their tongue in there
and as you thought

about that kiss
she talked of some girl
of a cowman

who'd got pregnant
and how did that happen?
she asked

and you said nothing
but listened on
and then you reached

the hollow tree
and climbed inside
and sat down

looking out
of the hole
in the side

and it felt cosy
in there
like a small home

and she leaned
in against you
and there was silence

and you looked at her
at her eyes
and hair

and how her lips
were parted
and her white teeth

showed and her tongue
waiting to speak
and you wondered

about that kiss again
and whether
it would happen this time

there in the hollow tree
out of sight
of others

and she showed you
tucked between
her small breasts

a small locket
which used to be
her mother's.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Dug A Hole

His head is a big black hole
full of big black things
and it sucks so hard
you could never against the mud
Sugar plum, no ones ever seen anything come
ouch, what a travesty, what a sad fate
someone get a band-aid please
we gotta get this guy a machine for his cranium
I mean I don't need
maybe I don't hear what i need
this never really goes anywhere
We dug a hole
And put our heads in it
We dug a hole
We dug a hole
And put our heads in
This winter they come too quick and broad
with not enough hot spiced cider or cinnamon toast
you never think you know this but when you got a dead start
sucking up both times in your brain
things start to change
and for the record let me say
its not his fault that things never change
the summer is always too short
and still they broke up for a guy with a black hole in his head
and you'll never meet him anyway
We dug a hole
And put our heads in it
We dug a hole
We dug a hole
And put our heads in it
We dug a hole
(We dug a hole)

song performed by by Ok Go
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Helen and You and the Bombed Out Factory

Ought we to go in there?
Helen asked
as you both stood outside

the bombed out factory
off Rockingham Street
sure we should

you said
but it's got
STAY OUT signs

on the big doors
she said
you looked at her

with her thick lens glasses
and her hair tied in plaits
nibbling her finger in anxiety

come on in
you said
nothing will happen to you

while you're with me
she didn't look convinced
what if someone sees us?

she asked
no one cares around here
kids are always going

on bombsites
you said
she looked around

her eyes seemingly larger
than they were
are you sure?

she said
yes now come on
and you took

her small hand
and pulled her through
a small opening

in the side
where other kids
had made an entrance

she a pulled face
on the other side
of the gate

and rubbed her arm
where a line of blood showed
look

she said
I've scratched myself
you dabbed at it

with a grey handkerchief
and spittle and she watched
as you cleared up

the line of blood
will it be all right?
yes

you said
it'll be fine
and you walked on

across the yard
and into the bombed out factory by
a door hanging

on its hinges
and into the dark interior
she stood by the entrance inside

and took in the semi darkness
it's frightening
she said

no one is here
you said
how do you know?

she asked
it's too quiet
you said

she leaned closer to you
and grabbed your arm
what was that?

she whispered
a rat probably
what? she said

a rat
you said
let's go out

she said
nothing will hurt you
while I'm here

and you patted
the toy gun
in the belt

of your jeans
she looked at you
then out

into the semi darkness
you walked in
and up the stone stairs

by a wall
and she followed
her breathing

becoming louder
as you walked up
once at the top

and along a landing
you came to a small office
where the door was missing

and there was a hole
in the roof where a bomb
had blown it off

as well as other parts
of the building
you stood

looking around
the room
where rain had rotted

what furniture remained
and on the floor
were books soaked

and rotting
Helen said
can we go now?

you looked up
through the hole
in the roof

and there
was the afternoon sun
and a white cloud

moving slowly across
a blue sky
and she moved

next to you
and kissed your cheek
but you didn't know why.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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