Oh, My Throw-Away Child, Below the Cut, Says I, Jesus!
I Love You!
But I Don't, Says I. Therefore, Listen!
Be loyal; don’t whimper your pain.
I have never been the same, thank you.
Such shame, since he held me captive there,
In fear and reproach, in fear, in
Fear.
He grabbed me by the short hairs of imagined longings,
I was a child, a little boy; I just wanted a mommy, but she
Never could remove herself from not wanting me.
So there I rested anxiously, like a trapped animal,
Begging for freedom I understood not, yet he beckoned
Me, alone, isolated, guilty, overflowing with rage, marooned
With his remorseless vigor.
But his higher power called him like sirens, and I…
I cannot sing. These words choke me. He cleaned my back,
which stung from the bullets of his burns.
“Go out and play.” But now I just pray.
I begged, “Mom, please don’t go” (that’s different than wanting her),
But she said “Why?” With a glare, and all I did was stare at the floor.
My only friends back then were the butter-knives struck in the doorjamb.
Usually they skittered across the bathroom floor, except once. Listen…
One fine day, twelve knives in the doorjamb, he couldn't force his way in... again, HA!
I WAS SO CLEVER. I’m out of harm's way, physically, except I caved at his threats, and never tried…again, to protect me, ever.
Soaring through the air, with no fanfare, my head smacked the wall,
POW! POW! POW! I saw stars. I interpreted those stars like an astrologer, I suppose,
I lined up the holes in the plaster, I was proud. I fought back! I was alone, you see…in His room. I wiped my remnants on the walls.
Even the headshrinker thought I was nuts. Hee! Hee!
I even peed on his toothbrushes, secretly. Sorry, I’m not!
But I was so silent, so unaided, crawling through my
Little world, busily shielding his reign of terror.
Freedom was my bike, being alone, and a God who I didn’t know yet.
My bike never hurt me. It was an Schwinn. Do you like Schwinn's?
God let Schwinn be my God. Thank you God, for loving me. Really.
There’s no prison wall so thick that God can’t get through it. I know this
Way down deep, where it counts.
God and Schwinn love little boys, you know.
And so do you. That’s why I’m still here.
Author notes
Do you know me? Or do you recoil. Either way, I love.
Written November 27th, 2001
In a list
A contest entry
- Neglect, Cut, Abuse, Hurt, Sorrow by DyingInside15.
300 points, ended June 21, 2004, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 30 of 30
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OK, I guess I needed a good soul-cleanisng cry today...just remind me when I come visit your stuff again, to wear water-proof mascara..but hey! who cares, right..what a tremendous victory you have come through with God by your side, but you know this "way deep down, where it counts" I am sooo sorry that you had to endure this. I have worked with tons of abused kids and it always amzes me but the coping mechanisms that kick in....This should be a testament to these kids...a poster ...Great job...and I did NOT need a 12 in 12 or a 2 x 4 for this one...WTG!
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Thank you. I think it needs to be rewritten. I might work on it again. Thanks for looking at some of my older stuff.
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This is beautiful,
just breath taking...
TEOT xxx -
Tomboy
wow this si really powerful and nicely written. Well put together and it speaks volumes to me and others that read it. this is what i think your poem is about; a little boy go thurt by his father and the pain nobdy saw but himself and the hurt he faced alone the screams that he screamed out loud that noone could hear him the fear he saw everytime that hurtful person came near and the wishes he wished for somebody to help him protect himself from the ones that hurt him and in the end noone was there for him to help or watch just sit and stare and hope that it would end when the time came near. -
i think its really good..i'd really like to conversate with you for my beliefs..Maybe u could help me!
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Very, very powerful, I know the feeling of wincing away or trying to protect yourself, screaming those silent screams and no one hearing, not able to convey your screams to another adult who may have helped. Both parents abused me, so I never had that adult that could have listened. I have felt al your words and am thankful that God is helping you through this. Although my faith isn't as strong as it should be, I know he has hekped me through some of the worst times. Thanks for sharing and please stay strong and take care
sanity. -
Amazing
ET- This poem is really wonderful, although I don't support Christ I can see why, with your word choice, one would. I love the line breaks and the alliteration, it is excellent.
To me this sounds like song, a beautiful and haunting song. -
Wow, this poem was really inviting, and I just had to keep on reading it. I love the way it's written, it's so unique, so different!! It kinda sounded like the person is going slightly mad from what happened to them, ya know? I've felt like this on many occasions, insane because of my 'brother.'
Exellent write, good luck in the contest!
Amberle xoox -
WOW very good write! Very different from anything I have read before. Great work
~MOONZ -
What a deeply touching poem. It was so dramatic, and I could feel the pain. Thanks for entering . GOOD LUCK!
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This peice is absolutely marvelous! I am so sorry that this happened, yet so proud of u for surviving and inspiring others to do the same! May u be as free now as u were in your bike so long ag
Edited on Jun 17, 1:48 because ''. -
This poem is really good, filled with so much emoiton and pain which makes poems good. Childhoods can be so painful at time but sometimes we dont even see our childhoods as bad until we grow up and realize how rough we had things. [Thank you for commenting on my poem]
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i think i can forgive you...this time =)
reminds me of the movie "Riding in Cars with boys" have you seen it? And though it speaks of shielding oneself because of what one goes thru, and trusting in God, im not sure i believe enough in god, to trust. thank you for suggesting this to me, i did enjoy it, partly because it makes perfect sense, partly because it sounds exactly like a rant i'd probably have. though i struggle, it seems i dont do it alone..that at least, is comforting.
Nyx... -
Yes, Ma'am. and thank you for caring. Life is good, deep down, where it counts. I find the love of God in my deepest pain. I also find love in nature, in prayer, in poetry and the sparkle in a gratful person's eye. The list of love is long.
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don't touch it!
its amazing where we go as kids in our minds
how we can become so clever to fight
to fight to live
then when older... we wonder what the hell we
fought for cus... so messed up sometimes....
but i know why i fought
and i see why you fought
and im glad you did
http://allpoetry.com/get.cgi?id=81255&l=l
is a moment in my time
bravery - indeed
and it feels good
dont it? to become free -
excellent
FIRST!** I bow to God who exploited this issue and brought its subject matter through you**
Then, I must fragment, for it is too intense.
Let me cry with you....hurt with you, and exalt that WONDERFUL CREATOR with you.
I love Schwinn. Mine was a Sears. But it was a Schwinn to me.
*rationalizes*...' Blue metallic for this is same as blue metallic for that. At least it was in 19-fifty...Hxmlnonm..mmmmn....' Just ask a ten year old from then. They never threw in even the handlebar streamers, UNLESS ..you paid cash. Needless to say. We didn't get the streamers.
But....inside the body frame that held the bars , was that magic Sears label, which was like a tiny sanctuary within which I had connections. Tiny little microphones hidden in the metal gave me a one-on-one with the World and God knew who I was.'
'The bicycle frame label
hides a chalice of God
Jesus is behind its purple foil,
where someone knows the pain
it meets and hold me
'til I fly away'
*bleeding heart*.
Those who endure these things......are loved by Him whom He has sent. Period. No other excuse.
Except the Schwinn. Hey. Not even I with a good Mother and Father got a Schwinn.
The Lord provides in other ways, right??? *SMILES*.
Brother. I'm admonished. This was....well. ....not in 'vogue', but always a statement to those who need to be humbled.
I'll be back for this one that goes into my 'favorites'.
Bless you!!!!
Edited by CookieZeal on right now. -
neutral
Enigma I am breath-less and word-less. You said it all...my favorite line is this........
'There’s no prison wall so thick that God can’t get through it. I know this
Way down deep, where it counts.'
I totally agree with that. :)
Red -
neutral
Oh, my gosh. I am frozen . My heart's stuck in a warp of hurt that has been pushed beyond repair.
I must say this. I am so sorry you had to endure it.
But,
being a person of 'hope', I know that life's trajedies are virtue and wisdom turned inside out.\
Not knowing your vision of this particular write, I'm not sure if you wanted it as a poem in form or essay....therefore, I can't critique in form.
OH, my gosh..... -
Enigma tic, this is so sad and at the same time wonderful. Childhood pain is never far from my thoughts, except mine is in a differnt way, but at the same time, we all find ways to escape. I wish I'd found a way other than drinking. This poem is so powerful and full of pain, it saddens my heart to read. Flashbacks of things I've kept hidden for so long seem to race into my thoughts the more I read. I'm so glad that you have been able to get past the anger, but as surrivors we all know the pain is forgiveable, but not forgetable. thanks for sharring.
Bebo :) -
makes all the sense in the world... ~)
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Mine was red...but I'm a boy. :) Reallly, now. I was afrain of posting this one. But now I am especially glad I bared my chest. No, I don't want you to sit and cry. Write and cry is o-tay. Last chance to review my pain is less than discernable, probably. It means that I forgave. I still hurt, but I forgave. If that makes any sense. Thanks, sister.
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This is brilliant! Did you just want me to sit and cry tonight? This is like 3 years of therapy all in a few minutes... I especially love these lines;
'He grabbed me by the short hairs of imagined longings,'
and...
'Freedom was my bike, being alone, and a God who I didn’t know yet.
My bike never hurt me.'
I have a great appreciation and respect for poetry like this, maybe because i know how painful it is to bleed this type of emotion into words, and also how much work it is to do it with class, dignity, and make it art. You have done this. Thank you.
p.s. My first bike was a Schwinn. (it was blue) -
I was very apprehensive about sharing my pain. Lots of excellent people with big hearts around here. Thank you all very much.
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Very brave boy here....determined to make it no matter what. And we all have our secret place of freedom, seperation from the heartbreak and pain in our little world. Thanks for a very powerful and meaningful look.
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I think it takes great courage to read a poem like this, Storm. Thanks for your compassion.
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I have to cry when I read of such things. Why are people so cruel to their own children.... God forgive me, butI wish them all to hell...
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An interesting rendition of the enigma of the battered child. Powerfully written!
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very powerful piece..
thanx for sharing!
u got talent dood!! -
There is God here and out there. We only need ot pay attention to him. This piece is wonderful
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