‘Notes of a Childhood’: Early Days, the Best of Times

Last semester I did a writing creative nonfiction class in which one of the tasks was to write a small response to a different prompt each week. Seeing as the semester is over I can now post this piece from week one. This week we had to write a ‘Notes of a Childhood’ poem/list. This was my take on the prompt!

~

At first only Me; Mummy, Daddy, and Me.
Two years of quiet and then,
Half the attention but double the fun.
I talk to Mummy’s feet now,
As my sister has her arms.

England now.
Waking up in the dark for school,
Immaculate uniforms,
Shirt, skirt, duffle coat, and a beret of sorts to boot.
Socks drying in the microwave? …socks no more.
Porridge with golden syrup – hello dentist!
Or maybe Maccas if we’re running late,
Driving those narrow, winding lanes.

Walks, so many walks.
To ‘Plaxtol Disney Land’, the ‘Sheep Walk’, and more.
If not in the garden, then what is the point?
– Grass fishing
– Hide and seek
– Tea parties with teddies
– The trampoline

Despite this,
Such endless bickering,
Sisters, hey?
Poor Mum…
When will it stop?

They read us Harry Potter each night.
My favourite part of the day!
“It’s Her-myon-e not Her-meowne!”
(Dad never really got it right; I think he meant to, just to annoy us, to make us laugh.)

Back in Australia.
We pick out Dad’s shirt, tie, and cufflinks for work each night.
Our choices perfect…
Nearly every time!
My favourite was the purple shirt, Evelyn’s the white.

I read Harry Potter myself now.
Now finished in one weekend to avoid spoilers.
Dumbledore’s death rudely revealed to me in a school assembly of 2005
…I’m still bitter about that

More walks with Mum, and now a dog,
A groodle called George,
He’s a massive softie.
Always lots of grumbling on my part,
But reluctantly happy in the end.
“That was the best walk Mum!”

First time I see Dad cry,
Part of me hopes it’s the last.
New town, two houses, separate families.

“Things can only get better!” I say to Ev, she could never cope with change.

Me however, being older, I had to.

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Petrichor

IMG_0989

There’s nothing like a summer rain
Unexpected, unruly, untamed

It rolls on through

Quiet at first
But growing
To reach a thundering din

Clattering on your rooftops
Rushing down the drains
It presses summer tears
Down dusty window panes

Why then must you be saddened?
It’s only rain it’s true
But dance with me dear stranger
What else is there to do?

There’s nothing like a summer rain
Unexpected, unruly, untamed
This rain it frees your soul and more
To leave the sweetest petrichor

~

Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille – Choice

The truth itself
Sits within the lie
Snugly waiting.

But…

Here-
Is it still a lie?

They know not you keep it
Save, warm, hidden.
Still
Even you don’t know
Not yet.

Here-
You’re lying to yourself?

Safe, warm, hidden
This helps none.

Not even you
And your secluded self
Your locked up heart.

Here-
Is it still a lie?

Protected
Or protecting?
Saving self
Or saving them?

So, now my dear friend
Speak your truths or spill your lies?
Waiting, all my heart

~

Written for this weeks Haiku prompt over at MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie 🙂 This week it is a Haibun: prose mixed with Haiku. My prose turned out more in the rhythms of poetry…but I am happy with it all the same

Wordle #121 – Reflection

 

week-121

You,
With your esurient eyes,
Breath just as feral too.

You,
Futile in your ways,
Feed the nothingness within.

Just a reflection,
Of what we hate to be,
What we are.

Yet still,
We turn against you,
Forward through bramble,
Weed and branch.

All the while,
We throw glitter.

To cover up,
To mask, and
Exalt the guilty voice.

~

Written for this weeks Wordle prompt on Mindlovemisery 🙂

End.

It’s best to start at the end of the world.

Among the rubble and ice and fire,
Cities are crushed and children lay curled.

It’s best to start at the end of the world,
Where from ashes a Phoenix rises unfurled,
To nourish the land and people inspire.

It’s best to start at the end of the world,
Among the rubble, and ice, and fire.

~

Trying an unfamiliar form for this one, the Troilet, suggested by Yeah Write’s Poetry Slam. So I’m not 100% sure if I got it right but I’m happy with it, somewhat. It was difficult to work with but rather enjoyable all the same 🙂

Wordle #120 – Present, Past, Future

image

Oh, how formidable is youth?

Shining.

Glistening.

Almost cinematic they spiral,
From the navel out.

Forever drifting.

So,
Patiently they wait,
Sehnsucht, and
Choose to step beyond the codex of before.

To feint and change the course.

History must stay in the past,
But the future?
That is ours.

~

A Really interesting collection of words for this weeks Wordle from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie! We are given twelve words and are asked to use at least 10 of them in a poem or story. I’ve bolded the ones I used 🙂