We look at ourselves
reflected in the gym’s glass door
all tousled curls
boys & girls
seven or eight of us
only just
7 or 8
at the most.
“Go on! ”
The girls dare us to yell
the man into existence.
We dropp our voices
into the bottom of the silence
& out he comes
flustered as any furious spider.
Our laughter
runs away
scatters
hides itself
behind
cars
forgets to breath.
When he goes puzzled
in again
we repeat the procedure
but even louder!
We have him
on a string
as he comes & goes
on the yo-yo of our voices
to our delight
& his annoyance.
We yell with zeal
all the dirty words we know
like bum & poo
& wee wee.
We do it once too often
and he spots our positions.
Plays us at our won game
dashes after us
with swears & curses.
The others flee
in time
but me
clutched in a big hairy paw
am held
prisoner
in a tightening “Ha ha...gotcha! ”
He marches me
by the ear
through the gym
corridor after corridor
opens a hole
in the wall
stuffs me screaming
in.
His feet quickly
evaporate
in the stifling heat
in a clack c l a c k c l a c k.
Only silence
& the dark!
A black hole
full of basketballs
& me.
He comes back
after an hour
to find me
singing
Christmas carols
in July
to keep
the fear
at bay...away.
Tells a terrified me:
“Let that be
a lesson
to you! ”
Tremblingly I
assure him
It will be.
It is.
I escape into
the sunshine
ever so bright now
& blind
the others
with tales of deering-do!
Me! Afraid?
Ha! Never!
Only shaking ‘cos
it is cold
despite the heat
tell them
about my incarceration
in the black hole
& that the Devil
talked to me
but I refused
to listen!
sweat on my rosy cheeks
glistens.
Tell them I was tortured
but wouldn’t give in
wouldn’t spill
the beans
on them
reveal their
names
!
No...sireee…not me!
Mary Ann Kelly
whispers near my ear
“Oh you’re so brave! ”
Her kiss
sets fire
to my head
I want to burn
down to the ground.
The months
run away into Autumn
and then
at the Army Christmas party
Santa, sack
slung over a nonchalant shoulder
is ushered suddenly in
stands in the door with a hollow: “ Ho! Ho! Ho! ”
But before he even
crosses the threshold
my blood
runs cold.
I pale to find
it is none other than
the black hole man
not very cleverly
disguised with a patchy cotton wool beard.
My fervent belief
in Christmas
now no more
than so much shaking jelly
spluttered on the floor.
Oh, what an awesome journey into your childhood world...and what fun for me! I quaked like the mouse under the chair...for you...in your bravery and stupidity and childish glee at the games we played! We rang doorbells and ran away! We called up on the telephone and asked, 'Is your refrigerator running? Well! You had better run catch it! ! , ' and thought we were the smartest on children...until we got caught! And for the Monster Man (Windows my speciality! !) to be Santa - is just beyond funny. Thanks, Dearest, as always, for the Memory Lane Trip! How I love them....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
whoa! I feel like I just travelled through elementary school. Great one