Childhood (Poetry)

[Mockingjay]

We Played.

We played in dumpsters,
where the best stuff could
always be found when some
new kid was moving
in,
in dumpsters where the cracked plate,
beat up mattress and
broken kitchen stool
would become our house.
In dumpsters we played.

We ran barefoot
through pine needles,
evergreens,
and grass too green.
Barefoot, climbed boulders
that were secretly mountains,
and hung on fences
that were secretly vines.
Barefoot through construction sites,
and barefoot through rain-made streams.
We ran, barefoot.

We danced to reggae-tone,
hip hop and rock and roll,
when our neighbors held those block parties,
and we kids would just hang with their kids for
the free food and the music.
Like hell we danced,
to the words of 2Pac and Nas,
belting lyrics about gangs, bitches and hoes,
but we wouldn't know,
because all that mattered was the beat and flow.

We didn't have time for ribbons or bows,
or silly Tonka trucks with Christmas snow,
but we did have time for dumpster dives,
and barefoot runs through boulders and streams,
and music with lyrics a bit obscene,
we danced, we ran, we played.





About: Poem was written about a PaM's childhood and her group of reckless friends.

[Lacey]

This is really good! While I was reading it, I felt this strange (but epic) broken rythym that gave the piece a personal depth.

This my favorite Stanza:


We ran barefoot
through pine needles,
evergreens,
and grass too green.
Barefoot, climbed boulders
that were secretly mountains,
and hung on fences
that were secretly vines.
Barefoot through construction sites,
and barefoot through rain-made streams.
We ran, barefoot.

All in all, great job!

[Mockingjay]

Thank you so much Lacey! Rhythm is especially hard for me. It's so difficult, because when you pick a rhythm, you're basically picking the way you want to tell a story. And I tend to take on many voices. xD

Thank you so much for reading it! I'm really glad you liked it!

[Flex]

Man, your childhood sounds AWESOME. ~rofl~ This is so great; I REALLY loved this stanza:


We didn't have time for ribbons or bows,
or silly Tonka trucks with Christmas snow,
but we did have time for dumpster dives,
and barefoot runs through boulders and streams,
and music with lyrics a bit obscene,
we danced, we ran, we played.

:love:

EDIT: Edited for FINALLY finding an emoticon.
What happened to -wub-, *love*, :wub:, etc.? ~rofl~

[Mockingjay]

Thank you very much Flex!

[Mockingjay]

Heavy hands pulling at thin locks of hair.

She,
cusses and swears at the knots so
tightly woven together;

pours a litre of coconut oil to
soften the patchwork
on the head of a child
too reckless,too wild.

She,
breaks out in an accent so thick,
that the waves of the ocean,
the curry, saffron and roti,
the indentured servant ships
could be heard with every
stretched out vowel,
mispronounced word,
Trini swear word.

She,
slaps me for squirming,
tells me to sit still,
or she'll hit even harder.
"Me eh wan no
messy chirren,"
says she.

She,
pulls at the ropes of keratin,
and weaves them into something neat.

"Go on nah," she says,
"an if ah catch yuh mess up
yuh hair one more time..."

About: My mother brushing my hair when I was younger.

[Mysteria]

I love the fact that you used broken rhyme in your first piece here. So many people try to restrain themselves by using consistent rhyme but I often find myself weaving subtle rhymes through out my poems. In this piece it gives it a subtle beat and makes it easy to read. Really enjoyed this.

Oh..and God, I remember having my hair brushed as a young girl. I complained so much my dad ended up setting a bowl on my head and cutting my hair short!!

[Mockingjay]

Thank you Mysteria!

And about your childhood hair --- same for me too, except my mom took me to get my hair chopped by a salon. xDDD Bowl cut? Nice.

Thank you so much for commenting!!!!