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Oh dear, oh dear, Barbara's been raped behind the post office.
As we finished our spag bolls, drained china cups and sighed.
The music floating over roofs, in back yards, among dustbins,
which signifies another day with Mrs. Green the landlady,
her gay son still acting butch, his boyfriend, whose sister's a whore,
is a nihilistic song hummed by mermaids on the rocks:
"No matter what we do, children, nasty men will take our lives,
frame us for crimes we couldn't dream, and happiness is like a thought
half-realised during the night, when even savages must rest."
Mother and child meet at last in the doorway of a pub.
But no relief will be granted. Towards them both two headlights run.
There's always some ludicrous reason for pain.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe
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Love this one, Jack. The "Oh dear, oh dear," line you started off with was a perfect tone-setting opening. "Happiness is like a thought half-realised during the night when even savages must rest" is a brilliant, disconcerting line. Not sure the parenthesis is strictly necessary for "who's sister's a whore" since it calls attention to something that's not a particularly unique detail in your fictional world. But other than that tiny nit I thought this was great
PS. If you can, try your hand at giving some of the others a bit of feedback. If you already have, thanks, can you do some more?
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I enjoyed this. I'm new here... but old everywhere else... Did you mean spag bolls? Anyway, I like your work and look forward to reading more!
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Thank you for the kind words Addy  I'll replace the brackets with commas in a mo.
(09-21-2011, 09:45 AM)John Holland Wrote: I enjoyed this. I'm new here... but old everywhere else... Did you mean spag bolls? Anyway, I like your work and look forward to reading more!
Oh yes "boll" as in bolognese! I assumed it referred to a bowl. I'm not well versed in northern English slang 
Thanks for the heads up Mr. Holland!
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe
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We say spag boll here in the antipodes too... I'm an Aussie.
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whose sister, Jack :p
The fascination with soap operas has always confounded me -- the characters are not just two-dimensional, they're completely transparent. And yes (from what I've been told, obviously, not from watching!) it does seem that none of them can look forward to a moment's happiness. I guess that's the trade-off for being ridiculously goodlooking
It could be worse
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Soap Operas are beautiful the same way that pulp fiction and cheap romance novels are. They are perfect for the shallow and casual minds that are drawn to them. This is nice work, Jack. I spent countless summers sheltering through the hottest part of the day in my Great Grandmother's house watching 'Days' and 'General Hospital.' I'm not exactly proud of it, but there was only the one TV You definitely nailed the Murphy's-Law-times-a-billion principle that plot writers use on such programs. Such complicated lives for such vain and whimsical creatures.
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Thanks for the heads up on the typo Leanne I chastise people for mixing up "your" and "you're" like Jeeves then make a mistake as obvious as that 
Thanks also for the kind words Leanne and AA.
You two should try watching English soaps. Nasty people having nasty things happen to them constantly. It's so depressing it's a wonder suicide rates don't skyrocket the moment the Eastenders outro appears. And they're not even good looking! Well, apart from a farm hand on Emmerdale who for months was the only reason I watched the damn thing
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe
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Oh darling, I come from the land of Neighbours and Home and Away... we don't have ugly people in Australia, don't you know? 
It could be worse
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'General Hospital' is the worst. There have been alien invasion, demon posessions and mulitple counts of identify theft by skin graft and larynyx enhancement.
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The thing with soap operas, ( I Imagine this refers to 'Coronation Street' in partcular because of the reference in a previosu reply to northern dalect and the opening sequence pans over rooftops, backyards and dustbins) is that no matter how boring or miserable ou own lives are, at least we can judge the fictional characters without feeling guilty of mean-ness. They have to concentrate as much drama into the 30 minute episodes as in realiity one would see in a decade. At least, I thought so until I delved into my various communities ).
The poem
Oh dear, oh dear, Barbara's been raped behind the post office.
As we finished our spag bolls, drained china cups and sighed.
The music floating over roofs, in back yards, among dustbins,
which signifies another day with Mrs. Green the landlady,
her gay son still acting butch, his boyfriend, whose sister's a whore,
is a nihilistic song hummed by mermaids on the rocks: - cannot quite figure out the subject of the verb in this rather good line- maybe that is the point, the whole gamut of life running on in a soap is a bit confusing at times, but I feel it is too good a line to leave floating out there.
"No matter what we do, children, nasty men will take our lives,
frame us for crimes we couldn't dream, and happiness is like a thought
half-realised during the night, when even savages must rest."
Mother and child meet at last in the doorway of a pub.
But no relief will be granted. Towards them both two headlights run. 'two headlights run towards them both' may read a little less contrived perhaps? followed by the line 'but no relief will be granted, ' I mean so that it reads 'Two heaslights run towards them both. Not relief will be granted. '
There's always some ludicrous reason for pain.
I liked the final line, it sums up perfectly.
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I recognised the opening scenes from Coronation Street..which I gave up watching when Ena Sharples and Elsie Tanner ruled the roost. I stopped watching Emmerdale Farm when they dropped the 'Farm' and my brief return to soap-watching enable me to meet Dirty Den and wots-her-name before I finally went cold-turkey.
I can see from your jammed-packed verse that I had a lucky escape...and it proves a poem may be inspired by just about anything.
Thank you for the read.
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Thank you Ca ne fait rien and grannyjill for your kind words and feedback
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe
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(09-20-2011, 12:24 PM)Heslopian Wrote: Oh dear, oh dear, Barbara's been raped behind the post office.
As we finished our spag bolls, drained china cups and sighed.
The music floating over roofs, in back yards, among dustbins,
which signifies another day with Mrs. Green the landlady,
her gay son still acting butch, his boyfriend, whose sister's a whore,
is a nihilistic song hummed by mermaids on the rocks:
"No matter what we do, children, nasty men will take our lives,
frame us for crimes we couldn't dream, and happiness is like a thought
half-realised during the night, when even savages must rest."
Mother and child meet at last in the doorway of a pub.
But no relief will be granted. Towards them both two headlights run.
There's always some ludicrous reason for pain. captured the british soap well i think
i would have liked to have seen a few of the characters expanded on. we can't afford bolognese in the north
Not sure about the 'children' on 2nd verse L2. it just feels out parts with the rest of the poem. other than that i enjoyed the read.
thanks.
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