Pam WALL

Biography

A retired teacher from East Yorkshire originally. Worked in South Yorkshire schools. Two adult independent children who live in the South-East. Started writing more seriously 5 years ago . Three novels self published Amazon/Kindle Pen name A.L. Wall. 'Fridays' 'Knots in Smooth Cotton' and 'Band: The Rise of Ricky Shine' A Poetry anthology The Thoughts and Memories of a Nobody. All available on Amazon/Kindle in e book and paperback. A whole life Well, sixty odd years Teaching poetry Writing poetry One anthology self published. Does anyone buy poetry? Kindle amazon online? A string of thoughts A stream of consciousness Is that the kind of thing? To pen an ode To crack a joke Use a play on words, a pun Does that show who I am? Is that a window to my soul? Can that be just enough? To satisfy the curious reader And make them think deeper About the things that preoccupy The waking thoughts and cares Of the sentient being?

Samples

What are you afraid of? Everything Life Death Being left alone with thoughts Of who I am? Really Looking into my inner self Wondering if the person inside Will reveal itself? How will it do it? Might I lose reality? Will I become disconnected? Will I go mad? Don't let myself think too deeply About it Think about something else Distract myself Turn on the television Read a book No, be brave Make myself think about it Really What inner being is there? Know all the facts about myself. But if I try to discover my true inner self I never get past the slight pause after my question. Confront the silence before someone answers. No one does. Does anyone ever get answers? The clairvoyants, the mediums? Are they able to get past the first questions? I wish I knew. Am afraid to delve deeper, To push for an answer. In reality I don’t know how to. It’s what I am most afraid of. Being left alone with thoughts, Of who I am. Really. Looking into my inner self, Wondering if the person I feel inside Will reveal itself? Fear They came; with hats, felt cloche and trilby, Arms flailing and waving in the open topped coupe, Doors fly open, a small slim lady tumbles out, A gash of bright red across her face. A crepe suit, stockings with a flawless line, Kitten heels barred and buttoned; all in black. An exuberance of exclamations, So wonderful to see us all. How long it has been. Such kissing of cheeks. Such shock and amazement. How we have all changed. Including who had not been born the last time She ventured so far up north. My grandmother trying to pretend to smile, Turns to her daughter in an aside to say, ‘Not yet divorced, too close to call. Where did she find him? She’s got a nerve. And to us all: ‘Darling, how lovely! Will you introduce us to Jim?’ Jim is small and neat like his gold tie pin. He preens and struts. A peacock. Proud of himself, he Straightens his waistcoat; he grins. My breath is stopped, a picture of pure evil. I know not to trust great aunty’ s new man. Fear compounded by grandmother’s private quip ‘Oh no, he’s such an awful creep. Where on earth did she discover him?’ Terrible news: the fear is rising up Inside my chest. A wonderful treat is planned for my brother and me, An unexpected day out by the sea. ‘Gladys and Jim want to borrow them, To play Grandma and Grandpa for the day.’ My grandmother is an expert, With the knife, Of cutting remarks. ‘She’s never been blessed with children Of her own. So, she’ll take ours on loan.’ ‘I’m sorry but I don’t want to go.’ I’m so convinced they’re planning a kidnap. Try to dissuade Joe. ‘Imagine, who’d want to kidnap me? I’m desperately keen to go and If you don’t come, I’ll think you’re mean.’ ‘You’re too easily duped; he’s bribed you with fruit gums.’ ‘Exactly, he’s a perfectly nice fellow.’ ‘I don’t trust them, particularly him.’ I can’t bring myself to call him, Uncle Jim. He’s not our uncle and he has a nasty grin. Watch them leave, my thoughts so glum. Much hugging and laughing, Joe bundled in the back. Gladys so attentive with blankets. Jim grinning at the wheel. Then… For me, seven hours of fearful waiting, Of wringing hands, Of sitting on the wall, staring up the road for signs Of return. Two o’clock, three, four, Seven hours of pacing. No possibility of playing, Of diverting attention to anything or anyone else. The fear is real; it consumes you. It is illogical; it is groundless, It eats you up inside. The fear of losing someone you love. I should be with him. What, and be kidnapped too? There wouldn’t be anything that I could do. Wrestle with Aunty Gladys? A punch to the chin for Uncle Jim? I’d be useless; they’d be too strong. I reason it out but however I look at it, I feel in the wrong. Of course, they arrive back, As deep down, I think I knew they would. Such excitement, such joy; a great time, Was had by all. ‘Why didn’t you come? We walked along the prom; ate ice cream cones. Bought me a cowboy hat, a gun and holster with caps’ Then donkey ride, bumper cars and helter-skelter slide. Ate fish and chips in a proper café. Rounded off by an hour in the arcade. Uncle Jim won a teddy bear and we brought it back for you.’ He’s flushed and hot with his tales of fun, No thought for me and my day of misery. Aunty Gladys and Uncle Jim are packed and ready to leave, ‘So sorry you didn’t feel well enough to come, dear,’ She is a kindly soul – so pretty, so smart. Jim has changed from creep to good heart. Grandmother is oozing largesse and praise, Until they move out of the drive. ‘Thank God, they’ve gone; she’s let herself go, And as for him, he’s turned her head with his fancy ways. She’ll change her tune when a new one comes along. Now we can get back to normal.’ ‘Our normal dreary existence,’ says grandfather under his breath. As Joe jumps around, I reflect on my unhappy time. I could have had such a lovely day If only I had not let fear get in my way.

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