Angsty Teenage Poetry #1

Intro by Greg, Poems by a Teenage Trenna

Another Kitchen Tape Extra

Trenna’s School Era Poetry Book

Trenna loved reading, and she loved writing. She also loved, a lot, but for many years this was very often unrequited.

She tells in the Kitchen Tapes, HERE, of the dozens of love poems and letters she wrote to Murray Malski.

Trenna also kept a notebook during her high school years and wrote poetry in it.

Whilst Trenna was alive I was aware of it, and she spoke occasionally about it, but not in any deep emotional way. In the Kitchen Tapes she describes her poetry as “woefully bad”.

However, reading it these days I can’t help but think the bullies at school, and the various traumas of her life had taken a really significant toll on the adolescent Trenna.

I am transcribing the poems for your edification. There are a couple of them that I’m not including at this time. One is Zoological Teachers which Trenna took to work at HBF and it never returned (has anyone got it?)

The other one I am excluding for now has some strong criticism of someone I know to be still living and who I think Trenna would now not have any ill will towards.

Trenna was a very kind and thoughtful person and I don’t want to deliberately post stuff that I think might hurt people.

Here is the first lot of poems…

Feelings of Tension of Love (17 March 1972 – Dedicated to Derek Hammlyn)

Anxiety, pain always waiting
Never knowing what is going to happen, or what is wrong
Feeling lost, hypnotised by his eyes
Concealing my thoughts in the depths of my mind
My brain is confused and haphazardly working
My body is stiff but yet it is like jelly
Blindly I'm walking on a fluffy cloud
My thoughts always wander back to him
Separation from him is like death without life
Knowing that my body is not equal to his
Finding him superior, above comprehension
Knowing the knife won't be drawn from my heart
The lump in my throat will not disappear
My body feels strange, quite abnormal
The pulse of my heart is beating in my stomach
My fingers clench and release with tension
I find that I've lost all trace of vision
Why do I wait in pain?
Why do I turn from the human race when he is near?
Why am I so anxious to have him?
When you are in love, these are the questions you ask
The only answer is 'you love him'

* * * * *

Truth (20 March 1972 – Dedicated to Derek Hammlyn)

How can I live at ease
When the guy I adore doesn't even know I'm alive
I see him every day, but he doesn't see me
Always trying to look nice for him, but knowing I can't
If I'm not good looking, why the hell should he look?

My girlfriends, or I ask the question, Are they?
Say, why do you like him?
He'll never talk to you, or even look at you
They are probably right
But how can I just forget someone
When in my eyes is far beyond comprehension

Really when I think of how many times
I’ve lay awake thinking or crying over him
I just want to die
I can't find any way to communicate with him

He hardly ever talks to girls
Even the pretty ones, so what chance have I got? 
None!
So many girls don't understand how it is
To be heart broken, made fun of like I am
So many are attractive and guys like them
But me, it is the complete opposite with me

Every day when I see him at school
I feel my heart beating in my stomach
My hands are clenched tightly together
But they don't want to stay like that
They want to reach out and grasp him

Girls try to embarrass me when he is near by
They want me to feel and look worse
Sometimes, it's really bad
I want to break down and cry in front of him
But they have no sympathy
They keep drumming it into my head, that I’m ugly
That I'll never get him, so I might as well give up

They say he doesn't look at us, so he'll never look at you
Always the same thing when they talk to me
They never say anything else, they only say ‘give up’

Sometimes I think, why am I so self-conscious?
Is it because I'm so ugly?
Why can't I talk as freely to guys as I do to girls?
Is it because I'm so ugly?
And why the hell, wasn't I born attractive?
Instead I'm so ugly

The girls that are my real friends
Say that the guys that make fun of my looks are immature
It's not only the looks that count
But I know very well, if you are ugly
A nice looking guy is hardly going to want to find out
What your personality is like
Even the mature ones

* * * * *

Pen to Paper – Inside to Out – Thought to Mind (25 June 1972 – Dedicated to The Reader)

I try to hide what my feelings do feel
The whole of mind it is certainly unreal
My feelings are closed deep inside
But I have many feelings that I have to hide
People know me, only by looks
They only know my cover, just as in books
Really, inside I'm a different human being
For friendship and affection my heart is pleaing
My feelings and thoughts are displayed on these pages
Whether they be hopeless, happy or courageous
For they say the paper is good at listening
As the words attract you, by kind of, glistening
Do not get me wrong, I do have friends
And if you were misled, I make my amends
The friends that I have are really great ones
Of laughter and gaiety, we’ve had tons
I don't want to sound mean, but it's guys that I'm after
I don't just want girls, I want guys and their laughter
This book from now on will be very efficient
Because thoughts and feelings, I have sufficient
You see I have no-one that I can confide in
So, as I've said, I’ve confided in writing
I'm useless with the words, when I have to speak
And most people think of me as a bit of a freak
But when I've got paper my pen goes wild
Writing my thoughts and feelings since I was a child

* * * * *

Confusion in Science (19 June 1972 – Dedicated to Mr Ryan)

Shut up, be quiet, do as I say
Else I keep you in at the end of the day
Stop the talk, start to write
The topic is, ‘Light’
Laughter, a remark from the back of the class
If you want to leave here, start to write fast
Stop tapping, pay attention
Or I'll keep you in detention
Beep goes the buzzer, but we aren't allowed out
The kids rebel and start to shout
I've got to go to the dentist.  I'll miss my bus
The teacher is calm, he doesn't fuss
Then there is a shout and suddenly quiet
Look says the teacher, you'll be here all night
Like hell says a girl never says a guy
Stand up, shut up, and I might say goodbye
But before you go, stop that noise, listen 
Today some glasses from the box were missing
Too bad said a boy, who spoke was teacher’s reply
But it's a quarter to four, so I'll let it go by

* * * * *

More poems to come in Angsty Teenage Poetry #2…