Never mind Archiver, we'll soon be on page 2 Oh, here we are

Janet & Prudence

I

Janet Stevens seemed
The sort of pupil who with concentration
Would shine amid the halls of education.
Janet shunned the crowd,
Though gossip in the girls' school simply bored her,
She noticed how the others all ignored her.

Lonely on the fringe,
A need to join the club and those who ran it,
To be a welcome member suited Janet.
She learned how to please
Her peers, when such a vital need corrupted
No teacher interfered or interrupted.

Yet there was a test;
To prove your worth and truly be successful
You had to make a victim's life more stressful.
Janet soon would find
The perfect target to promote her fully,
A new girl she could take apart and bully.

Prudence Cousins seemed
The sort of pupil who would never fight back,
A pale outsider, shy but on the right track.
Didn't act the same
As others did and while she meekly studied
No friendship ever blossomed once or budded.

Janet took her chance
To rise by making Prudence's road rocky,
She sneered at her in netball and in hockey.
Whispered hints she was
A lesbian or something more horrendous,
'Her red hair and her spectacles offend us.'

Term after cruel term
Through piling pressure on she would discover
The pressure came off when she hurt another.

II

Three decades went by,
That year dispersed and left behind their classes,
How rapidly we alter when time passes.
Janet Stevens now
Was married, middle-aged and very wealthy,
She owned a business where returns were healthy.

In this happy state
When she recalled her youth, like creaking hinges
Her acts created subtle guilty twinges.
Then one day in town
Just after deals to make her profits bigger
She bumped into an old familiar figure.

Prudence Cousins now
Was single, middle-aged and often pensive,
Her clothes were shabby, dull and inexpensive.
In a plastic bag
Were well-thumbed novels of romantic longing,
She looked eccentric where the mass was thronging.

Still she shunned the crowd,
For Janet and her club cohorts had branded
A fear of them that left her feeling stranded.
Never recognized
Her tormentor then scurried down an alley
With deep and hidden wounds no school can tally.

That night in the bed
Next to her husband at regret's first dawning
How Janet Stevens cried and ached till morning.


©

That was so sad. At first I felt sorry for Janet, and then I felt sorry for Prudence, but then I thought Prudence would come out on top. How wrong I was.

After thinking Prudence would in business, somehow unknowingly destroy Janet's business, I started to think they would meet and Janet would offer Prudence a top job and they would all live happily ever after................then real life intruded.

Poor Prudence.

Sorry there was no happy ending Biz. The key line was 'Janet shunned the crowd' near the start - I wanted to show that in fact both girls were similar. But the choice Janet made and Prudence couldn't caused the vast differences in their lives. Maybe it was an extreme example, but it's known now that victims of school bullying can be affected in adult life.

I don't doubt that at all. It is a fascinating subject. There are different forms of bullying - Janet at least recognized that her actions had been wrong and felt guilty, but perhaps what she learned about people during that period was a factor in her business success.

What we don't know is why Prudence was so vulnerable.

Oooh! You have opened a can of worms.

It may even be unanswerable. I'm glad you picked up on Janet's remorse - I felt that was a positive thing, although sad. She'd been in Prudence's shoes herself once.

. ... and it's the end of winter

Sunshine!

it gently carresses me.

we're all more cheerful

(and wear less, corrrr!).

In the garden, everything starts growing, unceasing damn hard work ........

I know, I did my first bit of watering today Hi Spiney

That's why I thought she might have been moved to improve Prudence's position. I hope she bumped into her again and eased her conscience and Prudence's lot.

Get me - I'll be falling into Soaps soon and arguing over the characters.



Now boys?..... just enjoy the beauty.

Any Never. (inspired by a recent DS GD thread title.)

Any never left UK
Any never had nice day
Any never lived with mum
Any never wore a gun

Many never came home.
Many never gain to roam.
Many never got the plot.
Many gave it all they'd got.

Reminds me of forgotten wars.
Distant. What! What! What fors.
Trenches only seen in books.
Hell on earth, by the looks.

I ran a mile from Her shilling.
Sound and strong, but just not willing
to be ordered. To abandon
sense survival, for some random -

battle for a piece of land?
Or make some people understand
that they shall be put to rights?

Men! Get them in your sights.

And then. For just a lick of oil
we can turn the sand to soil.
Build fine buildings, Sell big cars.
Like to buy some movie stars?

I've seen museums, old and dank.
Echoic chambers dimly lit.
Heroic fighters grimly sit
around an ancient tank.

Wounded lies their oldest friend.
They pray to god for war's end.
And bury in some nameless land
the bravest of their little band.

Some say you can smell the oil
mixed with sweat and deadly toil.
See the sorrow in their faces.
Luckily the human race is

Better since the end of war.
Nicer without ancient lore.
Lovelier than long ago.
Or could be, in the end you know.


sins of the father.

I created little monkeys
and told them how to pray.
I told them they're my flunkies
and then I hid away.

I insisted on thankfulness
above all the other.
I hate to watch them undress,
but when they uncover

the fossils I hid long before
they twinkled in my eye,
I think of what's for them in store.
Guess I'm a twisted guy.

I told them I made it all
in just seven days,
but that was way before my fall
(too many milky ways).

Now I couldn't make a shake
without them all complaining.
They blame me for the earthquake.
They blame me when it's raining.

Can't stop them fighting,
I'm the worthiest of cause.
Enough of this writing.
I must sharpen my claws.

Two great writes Archiver The first one's a perceptive look at the history of combat. I like the way you tied in Afghanistan to previous wars. The ryhme of 'faces' and 'human race is' is excellent - wish I'd thought of that

Sins of the father is fascinating - almost making God this conjurer who casts spells that everyone falls for.

The thread's got off to a strong start

Thanks Musty. I may have used the 'faces' - 'race is' rhyme before. I often find I re-use endings.

Probably the last for me for a bit (stop cheering at the back!). Got a huge list of things to sort out around the house and garden, while it's not too hot...

I contemplated upon the existence of this very third thread
I am given to such thoughts … pensively in the pose of Rodin's "Le Penseur") … thinks, as I am.
The first Fred I postulate (ooh Mrs!) is deep thinker
Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
known for saying a lot: his bigee “God is dead.”

Memory endures of a second archived "fred" – as never to be forgotten as the DS enshrinement (of this ilk) and a sample of a man and superman (all man) more a man of ale than cake -
one Frederick Seward Trueman known as Fred [professional Yorkshireman & cricketer] whose major philosophy was to knock Lancashire batters' blocks off.
Before many more worry frowns curse my poor forehead I will not forge ahead right now or speculate about a fourth "thread" though “Skuttle” surfaces toot sweet.

LOL Nice one Frank - only poetry could allow Freds Trueman, Scuttle and Nietzsche to congregate

Thanks for posting your poetry and helping the thread Archiver

Both brilliant, archiver. Don't work too hard.

Very Interesting, Frank. I'm off to look up "Skuttle" .

Hi, Musty. I'm hoping Prudence's life has by now taken a turn for the better.

A fascinating character study Musty, read it a few times as it's very story like.

Great write.



In fact I think you should expand into doing some short stories.

Thanks Musty/Biz for the feedback.
I liked the idea of a poem Archiver personalising a god even though an atheist, It worked nicely for me, the power (not conceded by some) of poetry. Do return won't you when less busy.

Be honest Biz, you're just a sucker for happy endings

Thanks Troy Someone suggested that to me before, but I haven't written any stories since school It's something I've had in mind for a long time and may attempt if the right idea comes along

Got it! Otherwise known as "the fastest milkman in the west".


Oh dear! I've been twigged. I'm just too fragile for the brutal realities of real life, and like to live in a fantasy land. Ha ha!!

Tribute to Rain

Nineteen sixty-six,
Beatles got their kicks
Playing magic tricks

Came the April day
When they blew away
Tin Pan Alley's way

On their Paperback
Writer throbbed a black
Vinyl B-side track

When Rain was released
Old conventions ceased
And the light increased

Drums and bass unlocked
Psychedelics stocked,
Metal axe that rocked

Don't hide when it pours
Or when sunshine soars,
Open mental doors

As the fade-out cleared
Backward tapes appeared,
NiaR was tersely sneered

Pop and rock combined,
Perfectly designed
Acid for the mind

Yet I can't explain
How John wrote the plain
Genius of Rain

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e3t52Ielj48

I've got to admit that I've never heard or heard of that one before, Musty, but then I wasn't buying records at the time, and only know the ones played on the radio, or in films.

I'm not surprised you hadn't heard Rain before Biz. The Beatles often tucked away some of their best work on B-sides. Yesterday, their most covered song, was amazingly never released as a single in the UK either. Most of this was down to Brian Epstein. As The Beatles' manager he was very conscious of not ripping off the fans and singles were often never available on albums as well. He didn't see why fans should pay for the same song twice. Luckily, the band had enough great material to accommodate him and both B-sides and album tracks matched the quality of their major hit singles.