The Dog On The Edge Of The Camp

'My mum thought if she touched anyone she'd catch disease. All she can see is disease, sin, uncleanliness everywhere. Whenever she goes out she wears gloves, like the Queen. And then she's forever washing her hands. I once called her Pontius Pilate and she slapped me so hard I fell over. She hardly talks to me anymore, you know. Everybody else goes home at some time during the holidays, but in the past year I only went back for Christmas Day, and that's because Dad asked me to. He's crazy. You know he's a minister? He's a nice guy, really. He writes to me and never mentions my sinful lifestyle. I went to church with them on Christmas Day. Some of the older people, people I've known all my life, shunned me like I was Jezebel herself, but some of the kids were okay. Sometimes I feel so lonely I could cry. When everyone else goes home to see their friends and their brothers and their sisters I stay here, where there's hardly a soul, an outcast. It's as if everyone has placed their sins upon my head, like the Israelites in the wilderness, and they send me off into the desert to die. Is that my place in the world I sometimes ask myself? When I'm here on my own I feel invisible, as if I don't really exist. When Mary's gone to see her big happy family I feel so unnecessary. As if anyone cares if I live or die! I'm just one of the dogs who lives on the outside of the camp. For days I just curl up on the bed and I read, old fashioned love stories, if you must know, and I cry. There's an endless aching hollow in my stomach, a yearning for love so intense that I can't even eat. Sometimes I tell myself that maybe God loves me, but that would be a complete cop out. He asks for nothing, just complete self-abasement. And I'm too low for the devil, never mind the Almighty. God wants you to beg forgiveness for your sins, but I don't need forgiveness. No, I don't need submission. I just want someone to put an arm around me, not out of pity either, someone to make me feel good, so that I can feel that I am good, if only for a day, for a minute, for one small moment to feel that I'm not complete shit. I'd sell my soul for five minutes of tenderness and not feel so alone. When I was at primary school my best friend Zoe used to tell me how she would get up in the middle of the night and climb into her mum and dad's bed. Sometimes, in the morning, she would wake up and there would be five of them all in one bed. Her two brothers had got in too. It was a veritable orgy of affection. But I was left alone at night. The light would be switched off, and if I was caught with the lamp on, reading a book under the covers, I'd be smacked. I used to wonder what it would be like if I slipped into my parents' bed, but I knew, of course, that it could never be. I'd just be inviting more rejection, more coldness, more punishment. I'd pray to Jesus, but what did he know? He was a boy, and anyway I couldn't see him. I couldn't touch him and he couldn't touch me either. He wasn't going to get into bed with me, was he? For a start he'd be punished by God the almighty damned patriarchal father. I used to doodle 'I hate God' and draw pictures of smiling devils. After all he clearly didn't want me in his club. He'd dumped me in the world, the only child of soul withered Methodists. Could anything possibly be worse? I would have become a Satanist gladly, but even the devil himself wouldn't hold me, not me, the living Jezebel, the dog on the edge of the camp."
Tears were running down her cheeks, her slight frame was trembling. her face had turned red and blotchy.
Tentatively he put a hand on her forearm, "Hey come on now, come on, dry your eyes."
"I'm sorry, " she said, and she leaned her head upon his chest. He kissed the top of her head and gently rubbed the back of her neck. She hid her face, but her body still shook, at least for a little while. Bit by bit she pulled herself together and the sobs became a snivel. Without daring to look him in the face, she whispered, "Can I ask you a favour? But you must promise not to tell anyone. I'd die of embarrassment."
"Yes, of course," he answered a little uncertainly.
She scarcely dared make her request. rejection would send her crashing back down onto the rocks once again. "Will you sleep with me? I mean, like, with our clothes on."
He laughed.
"It's not funny," she said, prickled, but he continued rubbing the back of her neck and she knew she hadn't been rejected.
"I'd love to," he said, "I'm pretty tired too."
He lay down on the narrow bed and she lay down next to him, pulling the blanket up to her head, slinging a leg over his leg, and resting her head upon his breast. The last thing he was conscious of before he fell asleep was seeing her blotchy face, eyes shut, peaceful, fast asleep. a thumb in her mouth.

The Sixpence

The two boys rode around the estate
Nearly home time, getting late
Pathways, pavements, roads and lanes
Tired and weary, Ben's house again

Ben's mum gave then a sixpence each for an ice-lolly

Sam was sad as he savoured his treat
At home nothing was given for free
A treat if he satisfied some condition
A treat if he'd obeyed the regulation

Sam was raised by reward and punishment

A moral plastic parasite
A creature who stole from life
A destiny of morality
Laying waste to humanity.

Dancing Through The Night

The old man lay on his death bed
A stone of guilt pillowed his head
No one there to comfort him
To witness his dying breath

His bones already eaten
His flesh bruised and wasted
Yet one regret still gnawed
A guilt that never faded

A wish, one last wish, he hissed
One last wish is all I desire
One last dance with Lisa
Will save us both from Satan's fire

But Lisa had died long ago
Destroyed by her very own hand
Consigned to flames for eternity
To suffer the torment of the damned

Lisa, I could have saved you
With my own poor redeeming love
Afraid, I would not free you
I would not surrender my love

He shut his eyes, then he saw her
Lank blonde hair, gaunt haunted face
Her fragile taut body
That danced with matchless grace

She placed her hands upon him
You've come for me, she smiled
One last dance, she whispered
Her breath hot, like coals on fire

He ran his fingers through her hair
And whispered softly in her ear
My love will redeem us Lisa
It's all right Lisa, have no fear

They pressed their bodies close together
Two angels in holy flight
They danced, two halves in perfect union
They danced through the long dark night

They danced across the Jordan River
That separates God from Man
Till morning broke all around them
In the orchards of the Promised Land

A Holiday

It's funny how I stopped believing
For ages I'd been deluding myself
You smiled, said you'd enjoyed coming
As if I cared that you'd enjoyed yourself
I'd had enough of forever pleasing you
I was tired, I had my worries too.

You liked to talk about what amused you
Your pleasures, yourself,who you were
Yes, you liked me when I amused you
But when I needed you, you weren't there
I had danced to your voice, your gentle touch
But your tender words didn't mean much

A sightseer, a tourist, you visited my pier
You took a piece of my heart, a souvenir.

Eichmann's Children

It was murder in triplicate
It was murder most humane
Gypsies, Jews, criminals, the lame
Gays, communists, the insane

From those who were higher than he
He had his orders to obey
Commanded by Hierarchy
He did his best, proud to say

Satan's saint of the modern age
No passion, no violence, no rage
On progressive lines he did proceed

Servants of the cancerous State
His children decide our fate
Moral, blameless, they do as decreed.

One More Extremist Gone

My companion hit the nail on the head, for which I was very thankful as it was I who was holding the nail between my finger and thumb. He had already missed a couple of times, hitting a finger the first time and then missing completely and hitting my wrist. I was furious, but I couldn't say anything as we had a job to do. I had to keep the other hand on the lid as the occupant of the crate was making a huge effort  to get out.
My colleague, the one with the hammer, was holding the lid down with all might. For the sake of humanity we could not let the nut inside get out of the box.There was no telling what damage he might do. He had already caused untold misery.
Now that we had him under control we were to transport him in the crate to the plane that was waiting for us on the edge of the airfield.
We had already done our best to disuade him. He had been jailed several times , and when those stupid judges had let him out, then our friends in the police had played cat and mouse with him.
The social services had taken his children into care saying that it was child abuse to allow them to live with a man of Extremist views. His wife had been given the chance to kick him out of the house, but she had refused. These extremists were so stupid. Why don't they just keep quiet and behave, just say what we want them to say, just do what we want them to do?
We loaded the crate into the back of the jeep. We put on the flashing light as we made our way to the aerodrome.
At the gate we showed our passes and the letter of instruction from the Home Secretary.
The guards told us that the aeroplane was waiting for us.
At one time we used to wait for dark, but not anymore. It was too routine. We loaded the crate on board and before long we had taken off.
The damned idiot in the crate wouldn't stop moving. We should have knocked him out but it was too late now. I just sat on the crate to keep it still.
Before long we were flying over the North Sea and our mission was nearly over.
We opened the door and shoved the crate out.
Down, down, down it went.
One more Extremist gone.

You Loved My Mother More Than Me

I kind of liked you because you didn't wear make-up
I kind of liked you because you were natural
Quirky face, pale skin, cruel lips were enough
You were the one girl who wasn't artificial

Last night I dreamt that you were laughing
And I was laughing  -  you lightened my heart
Laughing at your terrible jokes, the girl you were
Before conformity and falsehood drove us apart

My mother arrived in the dream and on her face
Was a mark that I had never seen before
In her hand was a black and white photo
Around her neck were the diamonds she wore

She had re-invented herself she told you
She hadn't always worn clothes of the very best cut
Been the stylish woman who stood before you
She'd never let herself get stuck in a rut

Her gaze was firm, inviting you to decide
An average girl or a woman with pride
You smiled at the woman you wanted to be
And I knew you loved my mother more than me.