the dark, those monsters
under the bed, first day
at school – bruce m trying to kiss
you in the sandpit
and hell-to-pay for jumping in every puddle on your way home,
men in hearses and dark
glasses – stranger-danger,
not running solo, nor flying, but
an umbrella on the wind – cruel and unusual,
old man on the street corner –
feathered hat, immaculately
polished shoes, threadbare clothes,
a broken headlamp in the rear-view
and unspeakable things,
and then, you know, the death of a parent,
DNA gone awry,
that your actions caused this –
not of your own shadow but
of your own screaming,
depravity of infant
spectres – Margaret Hassan, the Falling
Afghani children smashed
into dirt playgrounds,
the death of dreams, sadness
hearts beating through walls,
least of all
a great and touching poem…
I know, bluebee, I know.
fortunately, many blessings and passions balance these perspectives, Cin
This touched me, bb, so much to be afraid of, I remember being taken to play school and thinking I was being abandoned for good, so much fear is one so little, and I didn’t cry,I just waited and wouldn’t play. We grow and the fears grow with us, but as you say bb, life is a balance, we just have to learn to walk the tightrope.
many thanks for your comments about Bess, my friend, much appreciated xPenx
Hi Pen – how awful to think you were being abandoned at playschool! Children’s minds have to cope with such an overload of new experiences in a very short space of time. Thanks for your comment – strength to you and Bess 🙂
that was very disturbing
Mmmm, Viewfromtheside, that’s why I have an ‘Antidotes to my blog’ section. It should probably also come with a health warning…
Brilliant, Bluebee. Sound and fury, signifying nothing. And yet fear can move us all so deeply! Seizmic power, really
Thanks, Kate – yes, a power we all struggle with in unequal measure, I guess.
So much activity and then we ask “why?” “for what” because nothing. So the lesson?
A fine poem. Thank you!
Thanks, Jamie. You’ve summed up the sentiments perfectly in those questions.
Bluebee…..reading this I had my heart in my mouth.
A very powerful poem (??? Memory?? collective memory??)
with great resonance.
haunting, dear Bluebee.
Excellent…yes, disturbing, but importantly so.
Thank you, Lady Nyo – some haunting memories are stubbornly enduring, aren’t they? Of course, there are the good ones, too, which hopefully remain in the majority and keep us going 🙂
Lots of dark imagery in this.
Thanks, Richard – will get around to your latest post, glass of wine in hand, this looong weekend. 🙂
Very powerful stuff here. Disturbing and yet, at the end, as you point out, it all comes out the same. Nice use of dark imagery and a great ending.
Thanks for these comments, Coin & Feather – it’s interesting to know which aspects resonate. Hope you have a good Easter break. Bb
Wow – what a trip! My level of fear seems to be increasing with age – never seemed to be afraid of much at all when I was a child and teenager – but after having kids it all changed. Love the ending of the poem – could be various interpretations – no fear of death or the absence of fear due to death – good one.
Thanks for your your insights, Gabrielle – I can fully understand how having children would have that effect – I would probably feel much the same as you if I had my own and have had some experience of it in relation to my beloved nieces.
That’s a lot to head off with, on the first day of school. Stranger-danger and DNA gone awry, fear and guilt, oh my. Have you noticed, Bluebee, that children will no longer return a greeting? They have been told not to speak to strangers – makes me sad.
I agree it is sad, Monica. I guess it must be really hard for parents to find a reasonable balance between protecting their children and making them paranoid. And it was much the same when I started school around 4 decades ago – we were constantly warned about strangers not only by our parents but by the school as well.
A very powerful poem filled with sadness and reality xx
Thanks, Chloe – we each have our own, don’t we? Hope you’re enjoying the Easter break.
Sobering. Fitting for me to find this post of yours on the day that hangs between the darkness of Easter Friday and the light of Easter Sunday.
This post probably not the most uplifting thing to be reading this Easter weekend, Zoe. 🙂 It’s really great to see you back. Have missed your unique perspectives and inspirations. Bb
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