.
Where did my children go?
They were here just now I know.
Spinning yarns and lacy lies,
on the cusp of starvation
but always catching flies.
.
Who stole my babies?
I’m sure I left them right here.
Muddy trousers, ripped skin
kings of dodgy homework
artful sleepers-in.
.
Why nick my chilluns?
No good to man nor beast.
Odd socks, missing gloves with
jam ridden faces
that only a mother loves.
.
When did they disappear,
those halcyon boys?
I turned for a second
and they were gone again.
Who the fuck took my little ones
and gave me back these hairy men?
.
pee ess - off to Goode Olde London Town in the morning for a few days of literary shenanigans - Bookarazzi shindig in Piccadilly and a performance poet in Brixton - oh, and gin with Debi and Babs - WHOOOOOO HOOOOOOOO!
.
22 comments:
Gorgeous, Minx. Great words for a great pic! :-)
I echo Seamus.
Minx, this is Gorgeous. I've felt this many times.
who took my little girls too?
great poem...love it double!
The poem stands alone, but with the pic — metaphysical. You got it gal.
This made me cry ... so it must be good. *sniff*
Yeah, well, today the dear little trolls need a good foster home because I am fed up with no coffee cups and a severe lack of plates!
They are akin to Thing One and Thing Two, without the clean-up machine!
errr mother
ull find im here=]
i h8 skool
y did u make me go???
love the pic. and the poem is great. perchance i too shall echo these sentiments some ten years from now
You've done it, minxy! you've spawned a blogger. erm, now i just need to figure out whether that's a good thing.
hello dale, soon to be hairy man
:-) where's chip?
Dale, I made you go to skool to learn properlike engerlish - I was wrong, they have failed you! Now bugger orf back to lessons.
Yep, spawned something, Saaleha, not quite sure what. Is there a cure for not getting up til midday? Oh yes, I remember, have a baby - that cures it.
lovely, well er, not exactly lovely, but beautiful in its way.
I think of this each week day, as I must put deoderant on my 11 yr old son (by force). When this started there was no hair (of which I was aware), then there was soft pale downy hair, now there are some darker browner strands mixed in there.
One day, I know, he will have great hairy arm pits, and my little boy will be gone. ( I hope he will be putting the deoderant on by himself at that point).
I really feel it though, the being on the verge, perched, of his life being about to move forward, (in this big way) and yet then hanging back and giving us more time, more time together like this. (which is good as neither one us is ready for his adolescence)
He changes from moment to moment, seeming older than he is, then suddenly seeming much younger.
And there you stand on the other side of it. I do not run up to great you, do not rush to the time, when I will look around and say "who the fuck took my baby ?!"
time
thanks for your comment on my blog.lovely poem here and a wonderful pic.
I love that.
And the picture is one of the best I've ever seen, how in the WORLD did you manage that?
So cool!
Have fun with Bookarazzi and the Gin Girls!
Scarlett & V.
Taff, sometimes you put pictures in my head that just don't want to go away.....deodourise with force!
You are welcome, d.
Nicked it, Scarlett - no remorse.
Funny thing about boys growing into men...they get older while we, their mothers, stay exactly the same age. How DO we do that?
Have a gin for me.
Check my blog re the gin - and the rest!
PS We have both cups and plates. Try not to think about what your place will look like when you get back ...
*waving*
Picture looks rather feckless.
Feckers unfecked.
feckfooted.
Feckboots.
Are the feckless feckred freckled?
Or the freckle-less feckers unfettered?
I'm giving my four-year-old tot an extra-hard squeeze (the good kind, not the "I'm-mad-as-hell" kind) tonight.
Oh, and I shall never look at deodorant or armpits the same way...
Had gin, Leslie, and lots of other stuff!
Waving sadly back, Debi.
Oh feck, Soub!
Tis a shame we only realise this when they are older, Q. Give them a squeeze, often.
Awesome photo and equally shivery true poem. It reminds me a lot of another poem I love - you can read it here:
http://beachtreasure.blogspot.com/2006/03/poetry-thursday.html
The link didn't copy. Hmm, try it again:
http://beachtreasure.blogspot.com
/2006/03/poetry-thursday.html
Post a Comment