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Chapter 8. Holidays
Holidays
I was thirteen years old when the abuse finally stopped
A middle aged couple came wanting to adopt
They saw me playing, looking sad and all alone
For me they felt sorry, so they took me to their home
The only thing I took away with me
Was my locket and my precious dolly
I went to live in a nice neighbourhood
They fed and clothed me, did everything they could
I had my own bedroom, I didn’t have to share
I had a telly some toys, a table and a chair
I had pens, pencils and colouring books
A full length mirror to check my looks
I had clean pillows, I had a clean quilt
I had a dolls house, which my foster dad built
I was given lots of toys and had so much fun
I loved having a new dad and mum
We went on holidays, most of the time to Devon
A caravan in Dawlish the devil’s heaven
In Dawlish, devilish rumours were going around
That people found the devil’s footprints on the ground
I loved the wild life, especially the black swans
And the Indian geese, with feathers that shone like bronze
The beach was both sand and shingle
Most people were couples, hardly anyone single
It was is wonder as Dawlish is so nice
Beautiful scenery, a lover’s paradise
Mum and dad loved The Strand
Sometimes a car boot sale, sometimes a band
Dawlish was my favourite place to go
I miss Dawlish I miss it so
I also loved weekend trips to Morecambe
So did my dad, so did my mum
I loved the slots, I loved the Pier
Treasured memories, I hold them dear
The Pleasure beach, the Crazy Mouse
The Super Dome, the brill Fun House
The town centre Chippy, was the best
Back in those days, we were full of zest
I spent my pocket money in the Grand Arcade
Sometimes I lost, sometimes I made
I would sit on the Jetty, drink cans of pop
Spend ages choosing from hundreds of pieces of rock
Shit my pants in Madam Taussauds
Play Donkey Derby, collect my rewards
The wooden Cyclone, the massive Big Wheel
The Log Flume, the Waltzers, they all made me squeal
There used to be a place called Happy Mount Park
We would go there in the morning, back to the hotel after dark
I used to love bouncing on the Trampolines
Mum would sit in the café reading magazines
Dad would sit and listen to music played by the Salvation Army
Mum didn’t like it, it would drive her barmy
But those days are gone, gone in the past
But we all had fun, we all had a blast
But most of all I loved going to Perth
It was truly, the best place on earth!
I don’t miss being dragged to Kinnoull Hill
I was always taken there against my will
That dammed hill was very high
It seemed, as if it reached the sky
I have to admit that the scenery is breath taking
Of this fact, there is no mistaking
I could see Perth City; I could see the Tay River
It was so beautiful, it made me shiver
I used to watch the cattle in the fields below grazing
The scenery was both scary and amazing
I used to love Perth’s most famous pies
They were the best, I tell you no lies
Into my mouth, I would pop one in
I loved the way the grease ran down my chin
I didn’t eat one; I would eat three or four
But I always felt, I had room for one more
The Home Of The World’s Longest Poetic Novel, Written In Rhyming Couplets.
Welcome to The Jaw, the home of the World’s longest poetic novel written in rhyming couplets. The Jaw Revisited may well change the way you look at poetry forever. Not just a piece of poetry, not just a novel, not just another book. The Jaw is 101,573 words, 472,135 characters, 439 pages and 15,152 lines all written in rhyming couplets.
I believe this makes it the longest rhyming couplet novel, written in English and by a single person in the world. Many people make this claim, just search in Google and you will encounter 100’s of claims to this feat. All of these claims are different to mine, in that The Jaw is not just a collection of rhyming couplets but an actual story. Some are not written in the English langauge, and many have been written by several different people. Twitter and Facebook both have claims that users have written the longest poem combining the efforts of 1000’s of users, I wrote mine on my own.
I never set out to break any records, I write because I find it the best way to express my feelings and emotions. I enjoy making up characters, giving them a personality and hopefully passing that personality onto the readers. I love to explore the world of the unknown and what better way to do that than in words using an over active imagination. My words are simple, yet very effective. I will not compare Thee To A Summer’s Night, or have words that have the reader wondering what it’s all about. I suppose in a way, I write how I speak.
When I was fifteen I left school with no formal qualifications, no PhD or University degree and not really having any career goals. I have never had any form of English teaching and certainly think I would be terrible if I had to sit an exam or hand in coursework now 🙂 I know enough though, I know that if you push yourself and believe in what you are doing, believe in where you want to go and what you want to do, then you will be successful. Success does not always come in the form of money or life’s extravagant luxuries, sometimes it is the simple things, like sitting back and saying “I did that.”
That is what I have done with The Jaw, I wanted to write something that I can be proud of, something that I can say to my children, grand children and even my parents, “Look, I did that”. I am proud of my novel, I think the plot is fantastic, the twists and turns will have you on edge wondering what is going to happen next. The words will flow from your mouth with ease and before long you will not even realise you are reading the words in rhyme.
Ebook Short Description
The Jaw is an epic horror story written in a totally unique way. I believe this is the longest ever novel in the English language that has been written in rhyme. At over 100,000 words and spanning more than 400 pages, this piece of literature has it all. Ultimately this horror story will take your breath away. With twists and stomach turning churns that will have you thirsting for more.
I`ve never read a novel that is in rhyme before and now i have i can`t believe just how clever it is. Apart from it having damn good story to it you marvel at how the author has managed to do poetry and the story as well. There`s so many twists and turns in it , things i never expected , which i`m not going into on here because it`ll ruin the story for anyone who buys it.
Its left me wanting more , and i`m hoping the author writes some more books.
On the top menu you can have a read for yourself as I have posted the first twelve chapters for you.
I hope you enjoy the site and have a wonderful day
Much love. Katherine x
Chapter 4. The Gift.
The Gift
“I was the only child to a single mum
My father disappeared, he went on the run
He got involved in dealing drugs
He owed lots of money to some seedy thugs
My mother was an ex-convict
My mother was also a drug addict
I remember my childhood like it was yesterday
My mum’s teeth were rotten, they were black and grey
She always had a syringe stuck in her arm
Track marks and scars from self-harm
She often left me on my own, took ages to return
About her young daughter, she showed little concern
Her nose was always red and runny
She ate very little, lost weight of her tummy
Her pupils always looked like piss holes in the snow
She always looked depressed, always looked low
She was always sick and sweating
To take good care of me, she was always forgetting
Towards me she had a shitty attitude
Always screaming at me, always in a mood
She took me shopping, from each shop we would drift
Whilst I watched from my buggy, watching my mum shop lift
Stealing clothes, perfume and jewellery
Not stealing food, so that she could feed me
She was always thinking about herself
Never me or my health
I often cried with hunger pain
All my mum was concerned about though, was cocaine
My mum practised voodoo, believed in the occult
When spells went wrong, it was always my fault
She had spells for this, and spells for that
She even bought herself a big black cat
In her bedroom, she had an altar covered in candles and flowers
She believed that the candles held magical powers
She would light the candles and go into a trance
Sway backwards and forwards like she was doing a slow dance
Her alter was covered in old grey bones
Covered in twigs and funny looking stones
She believed in vengeance instead of turning the other cheek
Said kindness and forgiveness, were only for the meek
She said God only existed in a fool’s mind
You get no thanks in this world for being good and kind
I remember on my eighth birthday
Social services took me away
They took me away and my mum didn’t care
They put me in a children’s home in the middle of no-where
But before I left… my mum went in her pocket
And around my neck she put a locket
The locket wasn’t made from silver or gold
It was made of bone and looked very old
It hung from a rope, the rope was grey
Around the edges, it had started to fray
It wasn’t sparkly, it wasn’t bling
Meant for a pauper and not for a king
But it had been the only gift that she had given me
I think it was her way of an apology?
My mum said that I must keep it
Or I will have bad luck bit by bit
She said the locket was real and not imitation
Whoever wronged me would be condemned to damnation
She said I must never let it out of my sight
Not in the day and not in the night
She said the locket had been made by a witch
But the rope from which it hung made my neck itch
So I took the funny looking locket
Off my neck and put it in my pocket
Chapter 3. Lend Me You Ear.
Lend Me Your Ear
Here is my story that I’m going to tell you
And you will know when I have finished, every word is true
I will tell you right from the start
Why my life gave me a hardened heart
I have to tell you, I have to tell someone
About the battles I have lost and the battles I have won
Forgive me Paul but you have a kind face
My emotions are all over the place
The reason why I have turned to you
Is I have heard your heart is pure and true
I have heard you are kind and understanding
Dave’s comments about you are quiet outstanding!
He said that you are nice and kind
And a better friend he would not find
Dave said that your heart is pure
And that you donate your money to the poor
Your friend said that you help those that are in need
He said that you are a good man indeed
He said you are kind and humane
Every sentence he utters, he mentions your name
I heard that you walk this way
Almost every single day
I have been coming here every day for a week
Because your ear, I wanted to seek
I thought that because you were so kind
That you would listen to my story and that you wouldn’t mind
Wouldn’t mind listening and lending me your ear
And that is why I am waiting here
So I’ve waited here for you to show
I want you to hear, I want you to know
I am going to tell you my life story
But be warned it’s a little gory”
So I sit here and listen and stare at her in awe
What she is telling me, I have never heard the likes before
The Jaw by K.A. Shaw 