I knew it was a trap,
but I let myself in.
The door welcomed me
as only old habits can.
I remember thinking,
This must still be mine,
I must have forgotten something,
my Childhood, perhaps.
I waited till no one was home
cause I knew the rules,
But my skin felt wrong
as I stepped through the door
And breached the thresh-hold
of the things I had taken for granted
not too long ago.
The here and there had grown different
as things will do--
changing hands and colors
I grazed the old counter tops
where I'd made my brother lunch every day.
That was before the "daily ass-whoopings"
which held their own surprising nostalgia
I recognized only the immovables,
what passes for relics with the young,
only the permanent things
bolted to the floor of odd remembrances:
The gas heater I lit every morning, in the winter,
before jumping in the shower
and running back to it as fast as I could
when the water turned cold.
Dancing in front of the flame on tip toes,
waiting for the courage to face the day,
Stains on the ceiling from holes in the roof,
most likely from our climbing up on warm days
to watch the nothingness of North St. Matt.
The quarter-inch walls of fake wood,
cracked and worn from neighborhood boys,
safe for the time being.
Who could steal a house so small?
I didn't dare check my old room,
I knew the black paint would be replaced,
the carvings I made with kitchen knives removed,
some stranger's belongings invading my space
So, I turned the way I came
planning to check the fridge,
old habits again,
until I saw a cockroach skit across the floor.
Well, I thought,
at least there's that
Author notes
"Anyone who survived childhood has enough material to write for the rest of his or her life." -Flannery O'Connor-
This is about me when I was around nine. We had recently moved out of this run down house in which my brother and I grew up and into a much nicer house. I sort of broke back into my old house when the new owners weren't there. It's funny, but I still get nostalgic about that house sometimes, as ugly and beat-up as it was.
A contest entry
- Favorites (Invite Only) by Lj-.
600 points, ended August 29, 2008, 24 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Quote Me, Again! by Heavenly Angel.
700 points, ended September 1, 13 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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Very well done!
Obvious that you took time to fully absorb the quote you used
Thank you for sharing; I wish you the best of luck! -
has a great nostalgic feel i loved it.
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you got across some powerful memories and images here, probably not the best ive ever read, but i can imagine the house right now, and thats the job of a writer really, to transplant the reader to a different place.
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nice!
This is great. I get a really good image in my mind. I love this poem alot. Its long, but i didnt get distracted at all. I love this!!
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this is good i got the impression of you walking through the house, whichis what you were going for it felt real and i really enjoyed the read
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I like how real this feels.
Thank you for your entry,
Best of luck!
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happy birthday 1 pls 19 to U
I L -
If you remember the event that is about to my foot and U, write about it...you were 2
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forget
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Beautiful
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I can feel what you are feeling. You have expressed it beautifully, positive rather than negative even though it is. What is does not have to remain the same. Keep bearing your inner self
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