Today at dversepoets.com we are writing about childhood memories...a huge realm of subject matter..
Young girls played in rows
of Ladies' Mantel..
smelled of new hay and squealed
high soprano C
smelled of new hay and squealed
high soprano C
rose lips pursed.. pretending to be movie stars
They wore hand sewn dresses..
played 'neath cedar trees
..ran barefoot..made mud pies...
played hopscotch
in the same field where they caught
grasshoppers in jars..
They drew pictures of horses...plucked daisy petals
They wound pastel ribbons 'round the
maypole in May while
the piano played
...gained many a skinned knee..
jumping rope..climbing high bars..
Among their best pastimes..
cutting paper dolls..sharing a sleeping bag..
learning to tie knots..balancing on
a sunbeam..pushing each other high
on a swing..swooning to 45's
wearing mom's heels, dressing up
..making brownies..
running long and faaaar
They thought they might be dancers
cutting paper dolls..sharing a sleeping bag..
learning to tie knots..balancing on
a sunbeam..pushing each other high
on a swing..swooning to 45's
wearing mom's heels, dressing up
..making brownies..
running long and faaaar
They thought they might be dancers
in the Royal Ballet..
even Miss America
..but the wrong way signs
..but the wrong way signs
pointed to factories..
where they ironed firm pleats
with dry steam
...no longer wishing on stars
Others folded diapers..
being still a teen....already daughters
of faulty design..
they were not meant to be amid bridesmaids
who flocked to the beaches
of Bordeaux
..not to mention no accolades from an
Alma mater
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the beginning...that the pattern was set..
that their deep scars..
left by mixed messages and
conditional love they trusted,
would impede them,
they would have rebelled..ranted and raved
They would have had the power..
..and would have denied the sour
lemonade...
they had they been fed
from the start
Ha. Very cool poem. Transitional generations are especially difficult to be part of. Maybe all generations are transitional to some extent but this past one certainly feels more so in terms of women. You've got it. k.
ReplyDeleteyes, it was a hard break some of us had to make from that particular generation..
Deletedang...really nice turn there...i was waiting on it a bit...love the soft opening..the rather fun childhood of barefoot and mudpies and skinned knees...even the paper dolls...but then if they only knew...
ReplyDelete..life can turn on a dime, but low self esteem can keep one from making the most of an opportunity or even cause one to ignore or pretend that which exists..
Deleteso cool dreams of dancing... loved the pureness of this... though dreams do change
ReplyDeletethank you...purity spoiled when lead to believe one was not valued for who they really were ;)
Deletei like all the sense you evoke, the high soprano and piano, the lemonade, knotting and tying, smelling hay, and all the sense evoked at the Beaches of Bordeaux
ReplyDeletefor the thousandth time
thanks...one's direction can change easily of we don't listen to our hearts and minds or we believe others' remarks about us;)
Deleteoh felt.. i was rebelling madly as a teen...desperately wanted to get out of where i was and even though it was a painful thing, i'm glad i did... love all the little touches in this..baking brownies..hmmm...
ReplyDelete...whatever the circumstances, it was our nature to rebel against unfairness or dishonest adults who made us feel less than o.k. ;)
DeleteWhat a catalogue of young memories--beauty before the betrayal. Wow!
ReplyDelete..unlearned lessons until age fifty + something..unaware what control people had until too late to change things..in retrospect..they said it was out of love that they acted as they did..
DeleteI suddenly remember doing some of the stuff when I was child, using mom's heels, jumping rope ~ Alas for those women whose lives took a drastic turn, they had to grin and bear it ~ Certainly if they have known other options, their lives would have been different ~
ReplyDelete//the options were there but they missed them because they had the wrong idea that they weren't worthy enough...
Deletewould it have been more fun to be miss america? it is wonderful to have such dreams when we are small. i think all of us find the real traction of adult life a different kind of thing to the dream.
ReplyDelete..sometimes growing meant giving up certain dreams...and yes, traction took hold ;)
DeleteI enjoyed reading your childhood memories. I remember some of the same things...drawing horses, playing with paper dolls, dressing up, etc. But then the poem went in a different direction, saddened me. I think I missed somehow what exactly happened...maybe just growing up or maybe something more insideous that I missed in the reading.
ReplyDelete...not being allowed to express feelings meant anger and resentment built up..one rebelled to the tight strings, to their own detriment..had there been more emotional support perhaps some poor decisions would not have been made..
DeleteA powerful message here--I've always thought it such a shame, and an inexcusable waste of talents and gifts, for half of the world's population to be given less opportunity than the other half. When I took a few university classes a year or so ago, I was tickled to see most of the enrollment made up of young ladies. Go for it!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Nico..ironic isn't it...lost or misplaced dreams can be redefined and found, eventually,,,
DeleteVery well said. I hated to see it go from the frolicking child to the dissapointment of the real world, but I certainly understand.
ReplyDeletethank you for that ;)
DeleteLove the transition from pleasant childhood memories to a more mature resignation, a sense of betrayal. Many of us as young people are told we can be anything we want to be, go after your dreams, and then there is little encouragement and practical help to make it so. Peace
ReplyDelete
DeleteExactly ;) And guidance through those delicate years is so important..instead of stifling rigid rules, one needs to keep open the doors of communication ...
A beautiful poem that speaks a lot ... loved the message !!!
ReplyDeleteThank you..
DeleteOh, wow. What began as a sweet poem ended up a sucker punch in the gut. What strong, effective metaphors you chose. I still love paper dolls...do they even have them any more?
ReplyDelete..in a modified version, I think...parent do the best they know how, I see now..
DeleteHow you spun sweetness into sour grapes is amazing...But life deals cards like this too often. Great write!
ReplyDelete....destiny or fate sometimes depend on basics such as trust and support and honesty..
Delete..a saddening feel revolves around me when i reached that end... you have made an excellent transitions of emtions & times... well done.. smiles..
ReplyDeleteHow I was caught up in the joy of childhood innocence, delighting in your words - and then hit by your image of the harsh reality of adulthood.
ReplyDeleteExcellent write.
Anna :o]
I'm glad you remembered the games, playing, being happy. When I first saw this prompt I looked back over the years and honestly could not remember any true happiness in childhood, in fact tears came to my eyes. I was not mistreated in any way, just not given support or encouragement. We have to believe now that we can do anything we want because if it is truly in our hearts then the Universe will help us achieve our goals. Blessings.
ReplyDelete"..ironic isn't it...lost or misplaced dreams can be redefined and found, eventually,,," Your comment to Nico provides a positive note to a sensitive write.
ReplyDelete