When I think of the many people
who privately despise children,
I can't say I'm completely shocked,
having been one. I was not
exceptional, uncomfortable as that is
to admit, and most children are not
exceptional. The particulars of
cruelty, sizes Large and X-Large,
memory gnawing it like
a fat dog, are ordinary: Mean Miss
Smigelsky from the sixth grade;
the orthodontist who
slapped you for crying out. Children
frighten us, other people's and
our own. They reflect
the virused figures in which failure
began. We feel accosted by their
vulnerable natures. Each child turns
into a problematic ocean, a mirrored
body growing denser and more
difficult to navigate until
sunlight merely bounces
off the surface. They become impossible
to sound. Like us, but even weaker.
Like this too..children produce toxic gas and sometimes behave badly..
I saw a child entering my office building this morning arms up-raised in victory: Her mom let her pass thru the revolving doors on her own.
Good poem. You see the opposite side of children than I do. When I write it is of their innocence, beauty, love of life that I capture in a poem. Thank you for letting me face the side of them that you see. Feel free to read my poems if you like. RoseAnn
until sunlight merely bounces off the surface. They become impossible to sound. Like us, but even weaker. a very fine poem. tony
They reflect the virused figures in which failure began. We feel accosted by their vulnerable natures. very fine poem and reflection. tony
This poem is very well written. It was submitted in 2003 (11 years ago) , so I wonder if Erin Belieu feels the same way more than a decade later.... We humans are multifaceted - oceans, for sure - and the sunlight bounces off the surface, and it also penetrates the surface to an extent. This poem is a vivid study of our iniquities. Has Ms. Belieu answered her poem with a study of our strengths? I hope so, because she's a skilled poet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice poem...we are all imperfect and being a child only makes us all the more vulnerable...