in my druthers’ fantasy
i remember mother feeding me from rubber nipple
and father cuddling me close to his hard chest
they didn't grasp my painful cries
allergic to cows milk
suffering the first three months of life
but they nourished me with it anyway
because they had no idea
at age four, i watched as aunt ruby
dipped silver spoon
into the box of powdered lactose
chalky sensations overwhelming me
no cheese allowed
only tiny tastes of ice cream
and i craved its creamy elegance
but suffered hurt from greediness
at age seven i lost myself
in molested fragments
torn and bleeding
from the inside out
but mother only chastised cousin
and had father known
cousin would be dead today
but i only told once
and when that didn't seem to work
i moved past the calamity
and played along
whispering disgust in ears of deafness
children were seen and not heard
when i was twelve
but i had so much to say
peers never understood
and adults dared to even listen
so i talked to made-up friends
and they never back talked
by sixteen, sexuality was at its height
and drugs had captivated any reason to escape
working well with illusions
Of everything is all right now
but i knew it wasn't
and pretended to be anyone but me
eighteen years of memories
snippets of good and bad
caused my final eruption
of life and living
and i sigh knowing
the child in me still needs a hug
Author notes
Contest Prompt:
Childhood Is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies
By, Edna St. Vincent Millay (1937)
Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age
The child is grown, and puts away childish things.
Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.
Nobody that matters, that is. Distant relatives of course
Die, whom one never has seen or has seen for an hour,
And they gave one candy in a pink-and-green stripéd bag, or a
jack-knife,
And went away, and cannot really be said to have lived at all.
And cats die. They lie on the floor and lash their tails,
And their reticent fur is suddenly all in motion
With fleas that one never knew were there,
Polished and brown, knowing all there is to know,
Trekking off into the living world.
You fetch a shoe-box, but it's much too small, because she won't
curl up now:
So you find a bigger box, and bury her in the yard, and weep.
But you do not wake up a month from then, two months
A year from then, two years, in the middle of the night
And weep, with your knuckles in your mouth, and say Oh, God!
Oh, God!
Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies that matters,
—mothers and fathers don't die.
And if you have said, "For heaven's sake, must you always be
kissing a person?"
Or, "I do wish to gracious you'd stop tapping on the window with
your thimble!"
Tomorrow, or even the day after tomorrow if you're busy having
fun,
Is plenty of time to say, "I'm sorry, mother."
To be grown up is to sit at the table with people who have died,
who neither listen nor speak;
Who do not drink their tea, though they always said
Tea was such a comfort.
Run down into the cellar and bring up the last jar of raspberries;
they are not tempted.
Flatter them, ask them what was it they said exactly
That time, to the bishop, or to the overseer, or to Mrs. Mason;
They are not taken in.
Shout at them, get red in the face, rise,
Drag them up out of their chairs by their stiff shoulders and shake
them and yell at them;
They are not startled, they are not even embarrassed; they slide
back into their chairs.
Your tea is cold now.
You drink it standing up,
And leave the house.
In a list
A contest entry
- Childhood is the Kingdom where Nobody Dies by jinsays.
1756 points, ended January 1, 16 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Be blunt! Be honest! I'm a big girl, I can take it. THANKS!
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
-
okay, so no fair that Im devouring the last ice cream sandwich while reading this, and doing it such a way that my kids dont know cause the little monkeys would eat all of them and save me none and I deserve one at least, damn it.
Renee, we might not look anything alike, but I feel you as if you really were my sister, and I get this from beginning to end, as if I wrote it myself. The thing that doesnt surprise me is that you survived, and you were able to rise above.
Rise Above. Yes. Perfect, thank you.
love you always, and Merry Christmas
jin -
Sigh. Here. Have several, Sweetie.
-
I need a tissue
Oh... I am so touched and honored by your sharing. I feel the pain in it, the baby cries and the childs confusion. Also there is a sense of what has lessened over the years, there seems to be no regret in the revery. But of course the child walks with the adult. I send you a big hug.
-
This is so powerful, it drew me in from the beginning. There are so many thoughts in my head after reading this...I like the voice alot also. At the last lines, my thoughts were, "she needs more than a hug.." Thanks for sharing this, Renee, wonderful job.
-
Blessings ~
Oh Grammy this tugs hard at the Heartstrings,
swell the eyes also digs so deep into Soul
that windows are not needed~ You opened
Your door~
You took us frame by frame and brought
waterfall of Emotions~ also through
Light and Dark experiences~
Looking through the eyes of a child...
there is a story...
where another could miss...the impact...
the turning point etc...
Powerful this is, Beautifully expressed
Love You Grammy! 
Keep that quill & Mind dancing
Thank You for sharing Your Voice & Heart
Best wishes in the contest~
with love & light~ Desire~*~
Adding your comment:
1 - 5 of 5
