Happy July guys! I hope you're all keeping well...
Caroline has recently requested that I post "A Sense of Place" this month, but I don't think it's the right time.
I previously decided to post my poems in relation to my life. But this month, I'm not going to do that. Instead, here's one from my most recent bundle.
I got thinking about an old friend earlier this month. One, I knew during the earlier years of my life. A friend, who outshone many of my friends that came later. She wasn't perfect, by far. Her name was Annika Kuyper.
Annika taught me some of the most important lessons I know at this point in my life. She showed me that, despite what goes on at home, life can be normal. That absolutely no one is perfect, no matter how much they try. That there's a particular beauty in being different, which I have definitely lived up to! And, the biggest lesson, and the most important. You don't truly know the value of what you have until you've lost it.
My last memory of Annika was one of my saddest. We were in third class at school, and we were sitting beside each other. It was a Friday evening and a fight broke out. It was a stupid bicker about dragon stickers. Something, that we both had a great interest in. Looking back on it now, it was such a silly argument. Annika wanted the stickers, but I wouldn't give them to her. I went home with them and sat them on the mantle piece in the sitting room. I remember Mum telling me to tell Annika the stickers were mine, and I didn't have to be intimidated by her.
The stickers sat on the mantle piece for the weekend as I debated my actions for Monday morning when I'd have to face Annika again. I came to the conclusion that I didn't want to fight with her. She was my best friend, and a great one at that.
Monday morning came, anyway, and I found myself sitting beside an empty seat. Annika was gone. Her father decided to take both her and her younger sister back to Holland with him. That was the last I heard of her.
Annika was different from most people I've encountered since she was in my life. She had a gentleness to her that fascinated me. And she was extremely artistic. We were put together for projects during first and second class. Simple projects, on animals and everyday items. Annika taught me how to draw dolphins and dragons. Annika encouraged my artistic side to come out of hiding. So, I have her to thank for that.
:)
Although I have spoken a lot of Annika, the poem isn't dedicated to her.
The Hatched Hatchlings
I wonder if you left the light on that night,
As you sat clutching your wine glass on the floor.
Or if you tucked yourself up tightly in bed,
After you securely locked up every door.
If you fought till you were sober,
And never gave up, though you lost,
Leaving your pillow fully tear-soaked,
And your covers unneatly tossed.
I wonder if you wake up every morning,
Like you used to, all alone.
But feel your heart sink deeper,
Once you realise you're on your own.
Or do you still continue preparing
Their clothes as if they're there?
And hum a melody as you wander the house,
Disturbing the old, settled air.
Do you still set three seats at the table,
And then call them when it's time to eat.
Then wait just for a moment,
To hear their scampering feet?
Have you stayed in touch with their friend's parents?
Or have you left them in the dark?
Are you afraid they would ask questions,
Or make some advisory remark?
I think they'd tell you to look in the mirror.
And to get up off of your lazy ass.
That you did less than you know you could have.
And, for God's sakes, put down that glass!
I don't think you were a bad mother,
But, sure, how am I to know?
I was the last one to find out all about it.
I just can't believe you'd let them go!
Have you dismantled his bed in the attic,
Or have you just left it there to rot?
Or have you moved out of that house completely,
Leaving behind all the heartache it brought?
Did you continue to leave mini eggs on her window sill?
The ones you used to pretend her dragons had laid.
Or did your body freeze in front of her door-frame,
As you asked yourself why they hadn't stayed?
I wonder if you teared up into your wine glass,
When you realised it was because of you they're gone.
Then I wonder why on Earth you would cry,
When it's what you wanted all along.
4 July 2015
Caroline has recently requested that I post "A Sense of Place" this month, but I don't think it's the right time.
I previously decided to post my poems in relation to my life. But this month, I'm not going to do that. Instead, here's one from my most recent bundle.
I got thinking about an old friend earlier this month. One, I knew during the earlier years of my life. A friend, who outshone many of my friends that came later. She wasn't perfect, by far. Her name was Annika Kuyper.
Annika taught me some of the most important lessons I know at this point in my life. She showed me that, despite what goes on at home, life can be normal. That absolutely no one is perfect, no matter how much they try. That there's a particular beauty in being different, which I have definitely lived up to! And, the biggest lesson, and the most important. You don't truly know the value of what you have until you've lost it.
My last memory of Annika was one of my saddest. We were in third class at school, and we were sitting beside each other. It was a Friday evening and a fight broke out. It was a stupid bicker about dragon stickers. Something, that we both had a great interest in. Looking back on it now, it was such a silly argument. Annika wanted the stickers, but I wouldn't give them to her. I went home with them and sat them on the mantle piece in the sitting room. I remember Mum telling me to tell Annika the stickers were mine, and I didn't have to be intimidated by her.
The stickers sat on the mantle piece for the weekend as I debated my actions for Monday morning when I'd have to face Annika again. I came to the conclusion that I didn't want to fight with her. She was my best friend, and a great one at that.
Monday morning came, anyway, and I found myself sitting beside an empty seat. Annika was gone. Her father decided to take both her and her younger sister back to Holland with him. That was the last I heard of her.
Annika was different from most people I've encountered since she was in my life. She had a gentleness to her that fascinated me. And she was extremely artistic. We were put together for projects during first and second class. Simple projects, on animals and everyday items. Annika taught me how to draw dolphins and dragons. Annika encouraged my artistic side to come out of hiding. So, I have her to thank for that.
:)
Although I have spoken a lot of Annika, the poem isn't dedicated to her.
The Hatched Hatchlings
I wonder if you left the light on that night,As you sat clutching your wine glass on the floor.
Or if you tucked yourself up tightly in bed,
After you securely locked up every door.
If you fought till you were sober,
And never gave up, though you lost,
Leaving your pillow fully tear-soaked,
And your covers unneatly tossed.
I wonder if you wake up every morning,
Like you used to, all alone.
But feel your heart sink deeper,
Once you realise you're on your own.
Or do you still continue preparing
Their clothes as if they're there?
And hum a melody as you wander the house,
Disturbing the old, settled air.
Do you still set three seats at the table,
And then call them when it's time to eat.
Then wait just for a moment,
To hear their scampering feet?
Have you stayed in touch with their friend's parents?
Or have you left them in the dark?
Are you afraid they would ask questions,
Or make some advisory remark?
I think they'd tell you to look in the mirror.
And to get up off of your lazy ass.
That you did less than you know you could have.
And, for God's sakes, put down that glass!
I don't think you were a bad mother,
But, sure, how am I to know?
I was the last one to find out all about it.
I just can't believe you'd let them go!
Have you dismantled his bed in the attic,
Or have you just left it there to rot?
Or have you moved out of that house completely,
Leaving behind all the heartache it brought?
Did you continue to leave mini eggs on her window sill?
The ones you used to pretend her dragons had laid.
Or did your body freeze in front of her door-frame,
As you asked yourself why they hadn't stayed?
I wonder if you teared up into your wine glass,
When you realised it was because of you they're gone.
Then I wonder why on Earth you would cry,
When it's what you wanted all along.
4 July 2015
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