childhood

when i was a child

clouds called to me

with windsongs.

dust devils danced

and dusted my low hanging halo.

lopsided palm trees,

bowing to the ice cream truck jingles,

were hippy headed parents

watching me wheel in the weather's rythmns

when i was small enough

i lived in my imagination

explored curbside kingdoms

and slept to dream.

when i was young

a plastic baseball bat

a ping pong ball

and my best friend's half acre backyard

stretched out summer hours

like buffet line bellies

i ate life

with the metabolism of innocence.

magic existed

and books were treasure maps

some of my best friends were

forever just beyond

the fence of fiction

their faces framed in sans serif fonts.

when i was a baby

my grandmother's vanity mirror WAS magic

reflecting awareness into my

question mark expression.

when i was a boy

nothing was better than hosing off

100 degree days in the front lawn,

getting pulled in my radio flyer wagon

as my parents walked through

80 degree nights,

and watching saturday morning cartoons

after a night of secret code making

with my fellow co-consirators.

laughter was a language with thousands

of dialects

music a heartbeat bright with my blood.

heaven was napping in a toasty window

shaped sunpatch

love was letting a cute girl

catch me during a game of tag.

when i was younger

things were bigger and brighter

paper airplanes engaged in

school day dogfights

where the only casualties were

papercuts and childish pride.

poems always started

"roses are red - violets are blue"

our television was like a distant uncle

only around enough to keep me spoiled.

when i was 6

nes

mario brothers

when i was 7

i accepted jesus christ as my personal savior

when i was 8

i was big enough to be baptised

and the years ticked off

like the metronome at my piano lessons

the future hung like a promise

like the savior hung on the cross

i was waiting to be born again

under the hippy headed palm trees

swaying with the wind's lukewarm lullabies

waiting to become a phoenix 

a blaze of beginnings

waiting to grow old enough to be young again

 

i guess i'm still waiting.  

Reviews

[Juliet]

My goodness, Brian. You swept me back in time and dusted off some forgotten memories for me. Thank you so very much. This piece is magical. Just magical. I love the ending, because it ties the piece together nicely, and because it is true. We are always trying to get back to that half-acre, aren't we? I may welcome my dreams tonight. Thank you, so much for this piece.

Thank you!

[Katrina]

holy crow's feet. man, your imagery just effin floored me. honestly, i love really descriptive poetry and i tend to always find myself drawn towards it. and while you didn't spend eight or nine lines describing one thing, you described a billion in one or two lines.

nostaliga, it's always pretty. prettier than when we were living it, which makes me miss it a little less. anywho. enough about me.

favorites:

"lopsided palm trees,
bowing to the ice cream truck jingles" -> lopsided palm trees... just a way i would've thought to describe them. though i've only seen a few in my lifetime. the honesty there is nice.

"stretched out summer hours
like buffet-line bellies" -> gritty and a little dirty. makes me picture stained white shirts stretching over hairy male bellies. ugly flower prints encasing ladies middles that have seen one too many buckets of icecream. it connects two things that seem unfamiliar.

"poems always started
"roses are red. violets are blue" "... just cause i like the thought of a time when things were simply simple like that.

xxx

[Jessica Standifird]

I miss you. This piece made me smile that wistful nostalgic smile I reserve for dandelions and beaches. Beautiful writing as always.

[Gandré]

A beautiful poem. And I mean it. You succeed brilliantly in smuggling into this poem short moments on everything from your own history. I loved your metaphors. hmmm so cute.
clouds called to me with windsongs
dust devils danced
and dusted my
low hanging halo.
lopsided palm trees, --------I very much liked this. It is like my own childhood. keep up the good work. thx for sending it to me.