After That.
After that
the only
thing she thought
mattered was
the sunlight
coming through
the tall trees
as you and
she lay on
your backs by
the large pond
listening
to birdsong
and the wind
coming through
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Behind Closed Doors.
Miss Bundlestun watches the man
Next door go down the path to his
Car open the door climb in slam the
Door look up at her and give her an
Up you gesture with his middle finger
Then drive off. She lets the curtains
Fall back in place wondering if the
Gesture was for real or just a signal of
The common lot seen too often in the
Streets below even by the young who
Pass her by with gestures of the fingers
Or spew of tongue. He plays jazz on his
Hifi loud not quite to her taste and she
Often bangs on his door and shouts her
Complaints of noise or rowdiness from
Parties held all night. Her mother says
Nothing but sits silent in her dull armchair.
There is a clinging smell of decay in the air.
She denies the factor of her mother’s death.
She sits and talks or reads the news to her
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Dubrovnik 1972.
Dubrovnik seemed
a second home,
and you, in a street
cafe, sat drinking coffee,
with that book on
Schopenhauer open
on the table, a cigarette
smoking in an ashtray
unattended, thinking
of the girl in the hotel
restaurant the night
before, the waitress
who smiled at you as
she served and went
by your table, and your
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Sweet Delight
There was that sweet delight
especially when she
had that smile on her
and as you sat
by the pond with her
and she joined her hands
over her knees
and stared ahead
at the ducks out there
and you gazed at her
sideward on
and took in
her fine breasts
and thighs
and she said
ducks are very greasy creatures
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Woman with a Tattoo.
A woman with a tattoo
over the top of her breasts
above her red dress got
on the uptown bus and
sat down. Henry tried not
to look, he couldn't make
out the words that mingled
with the coloured flowers
tattooed there, looked away,
followed for a short while
the goings on in the passing
street, then turned again
and gazed surreptiously as
if he'd not intended to stare
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
What She Gave
She gave you a postcard print
Of Marc Chagall. You pinned it
To the inside of your bedroom door.
It had a Florence postmark
On the back; you imagined her spittle
On the stamp, her tongue licking
Until the stamp stuck. You wished
You could have been at her side
When she toured the Florence sites;
Wished in your secret thoughts
You could have shared her bed;
Felt her twist and turn in the night,
Sensed her body’s closeness as you lay.
She had written neatly on the back;
Her words conveying that day’s tour
And things she’d seen and done with him.
Before you’d pinned the card to the door
You had smelt the surface for her scent
As if she’d secretly hid some message there
Amongst the smells and aromas of her hand.
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Missed the End.
Your father used to put
a folded white handkerchief
in the top pocket
of your jacket
and combed your hair
which he'd plastered
with Brylcream first
and even dampened
your eyebrows
to get them to lay down
with his spittled finger
and took you with him
to the movies
to watch cowboy
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
To Go Or Not To Go.
There's a fun fair
on the bombsite
off Meadow Row
you told Fay
that Friday
on the way home
from school
and she said
I can only come
if my daddy's out
he thinks
all such things
are sinful
and if he
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Mrs Clark's Daughter.
Your mother stood talking
With Mrs Clark after school
And you were kicking your
Heels waiting to get home
To your toys and games and
You gazed at Mrs Clark’s young
Daughter who poked her head
Out from around her mother’s
Wide ass and stared at you
Through thin wired spectacles
Which made her eyes large as
Fish in glass bowls and her hair
Was ribboned up in two plaits
Either side of her head giving
Her a stern expression and Mrs
Clark said Helen here has a crush
On your son or so she told me
After school yesterday and Mrs
Clark gave you a big smile like
A hippo coming out of water
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Only
Only if you want to, she said,
only if it means to you what
it means to me. The other
members of the choir were
ahead on their way to the next
house for carol singing, the full
moon luminous above, the voices
of others like faraway whispers
of ghosts. She looked at you; her
blue eyes searching every aspect
of you for an answer. Yes, it does,
you replied, your words hanging
around your head like tamed birds.
She smiled and closed her blue eyes
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!