The sun baked through
the denim of my new skirt
as I waited my turn
at hopscotch.
The key to my bike chain
was my marker for the game.
It never landed
outside the box.
Dandelions turned the playground
into a white carpet of puff balls.
We twirled ‘round them like ballerinas
and wished for bubblegum, Barbies, boys
and breasts,
before we blew their seeds
off to root in someone’s yard.
We were 4th grade girls;
a summer too old to climb
on monkey bars or swing from rings.
We talked about boys,
but never to them.
Sometimes we played jacks
in the corridor. The chill
of shaded concrete seeped through
polyester dresses as we bounced
past onsies and twosies.
There were times we’d play
handball against the backside
of the boy’s bathroom wall,
and once, Sandy Jones
broke Tina Logan’s nose
with the tetherball.
After lunch the scent of hot dirt
stung my nose, while we played volleyball
and whispered about how Sally Trubaugh
needed to wear a bra.
When the bell rang, we were a line of
gangly arms and legs
in bell bottoms and peasant dresses.
One day, I threw my bike key too hard.
It vanished in a vortex of grass.
Grandpa had to cut the chain off my bike,
and nothing ever seemed to land
inside the box again.
A contest entry
- involuntary memory by Dienush.
600 points, ended February 27, 14 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Contest by NoUseForAName.
600 points, ended March 19, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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Oh My!!
Each day I learn something new and inhale words of others to bring forth images also Inspire me to try a different approach when penning~~
I felt as if there and my eyes bulged re:the tetherball (not on my to do or fav's list)...
have this
with those balls attached to string that fly in the air
The hot dirt reminded me of 'Heck Yes' it was hot
I recall initiation by walking over hot sand in shoes with thin soles
Loved this!!
Brought back some serious memories
Remember Recess...the cartoon
Congratulations on Your other Trophy win!
-Throws confetti-
Woooooooooo Hoooooooooooo
Thank You for sharing Your Heart and Spirit~
Many blessings to You in the contest Sweet Soul
Best wishes too
and much love~ Desire~*~
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very rich like fine chocolate
Hi Dana
I can see you are as busy as I am. (and don't get time to post much!)
I think the tone of this poem is perfect but the ending is a bit short or abrupt compared to the rest that is lengthy (more lengthy) To have that bitter sweet affect of "days gone by but still living within us" you have to make the whole poem lead to that ending. IE we never get outside of the box, every motif keeps us in the box, until the end and then we don't want to leave the box either.
The poem in itself is a great story and you always know how to tell a good story.
Thanks for your comment on "Band of angels" way back when! I really appreciated it. You are such an asset to this site!
Jane
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You're gonna hate me... I like this piece, but it's not done yet. The tone is off and I can't make any suggestions on what needs to be done to correct that, only that it needs to be corrected.
While the images are light and airy (which they should be until the last stanza) the tone and the rhythm are flat. Maybe try messing with the line breaks first, break it up in a different way and go from there. While it's a narrative poem, it doesn't feel like I'm reading a poem. The usually strong writing voice isn't there in this.
If you do that, I also suggest cutting this down to the absolute bare minimum and then building it back up. You know- lunch, dirt, volleyball, bra... each on it's own line and then build around it. Could be the lack of metaphors through out the body that are usually so well done in your writing.
I've read this one before and felt the same way but wasn't sure how to articulate what I meant. I don't know if this is any better than not saying anything.
I do like it but it's not quite there yet. And if it's been published already, you still need to finish it. So there.
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Thanks so much, Tiff. If I did not seek your honest criticism, I would not have entered your contest
I understand what you are saying. I hope I can figure out how to revise it. Thank you!
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wow...i felt like i was there. those were the days, weren't they. you have a way with words.
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You know I so enjoyed this. The contest itself is so intriguing that I could probably write fifty poems about insignificant things that are significant to me. I love your ending. When we are children we are so naive. Our biggest issue is usually deciding what group to hang out with or what game to play. I really enjoyed the memory you created. The imagery was lovely and well done. Felt like I was right there. Best wishes.
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I like how this is a collection of snapshots, a small view into who you used to be. I like the apparent randomness of this, but that ending... I think that pulls the whole poem together. To me, it sounds a bit like a loose end, not because you don't give details, which you do. But the recurrence between the first and last stanza is effective and I love how the loss of the key sounds a bit like a symbol for changing and growing up, too. Makes me think of how you do things as a child, just like in your poem, a bit randomly and without worrying, just going with the flow, and then you lose your innocence and naivety, the tricks that made everything seem right, you're on your own and see your imperfection. I just love how intense this was. Thanks for your entry.
~Diana -
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Thank you for your thoughtful comment. You saw exactly in this what I was hoping to convey.
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I read this, then went away to think about it before commenting.
I agree with the previous person's comment - you are certainly a word artist. I could certainly smell the scent of hot fabric and the baking sun.
However, I felt that this was a trifle more forced thank your usual writing. That could just be due to the flu you said you've been suffering.
For me, the first three stanzas were great - very evocative with great description, with a strong opening. But ... the rest of the poem fell flat when compared with those three stanzas. When you're better, and you've tweaked this as you implied you probably would, I'd like to have another read.
Get better soon.
Peace,
rose anne. -
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Thanks for your thoughts When I am feeling better, I will use them to help me with revising the poem.
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Definitely you're good at your story telling. But I think, much like myself, you tell too much. Or maybe we just get caught up in our own memories, huh? It's really hard to say.
I guess I say that because some of it seemed repetitive and I found it distracting. In the first stanza, it was a good beginning but the end lines lost the momentum. They just weren't good closers. Particularly for a lead stanza. I know where you were trying to go with them but I don't think (image wise), they have the kind of effect you wanted. But who knows, I'm tired and could be speaking out of my left ear.
Stanzas two through four were working but I think it slowed with cluttered wording in stanza five. Though I did like the image in the last two lines, the rest you might want to look at re-wording.
Stanza six is also a little slow. Stanza seven is good and I like the thought of kids in bell bottoms.
The final stanza was fine till the last two lines. Again, I just don't think you're getting the effect you're after.
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Thank you so much for your time in critiquing this. I have been waiting for someone to come along and give me a good honest comment. I have also been so sick with the flu, that I am not sure I can drink all this in at the moment, but when I am feeling better, I will definitely be revising.
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Aww! I love the second stanza so much... it made me grin and remember those times of my own.
Also, just thought I'd tell you something I find kind of funny... As I was reading this, I felt like I was there, and I could appreciate the details you gave and the picture you were painting. But as I was reading, I was kind of thinking, "hmm, I wonder where the emotional, life-related, sting in my gut that I've come to expect from Ms.DH is going to come in...?" and then, in those last few lines, you delivered. Not that it was surprising, really, because your writing always has a point and a story to tell, but I guess it was just... oh I DON'T KNOW. It was great. That's all I'm really trying to say, I think.
I just love how your poetry always has enough emotion and detail to be personal, yet the feelings are made so clear that the reader can [re]experience them on their own (sometimes completely unrelated) level.
Anyway, thanks for sharing. -
Ah recess. My favorite part of school.
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Mine too, back then.
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