Blue with Raspberry Paisley

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Thu, 23 Oct 2014
  • 7146 reads
14 comments
 
It was round eight in the evening...
they’d start rowing again,
my mum and my dad.
 
Shouting at first, then she’d get rough –
kick his shins, punch his face
and he’d retaliate.
 
It made me feel sick – it always did.
Then he’d go – out to the garden
to his shed, and she’d start on the booze...
 
look right through me to hell and back –
where I’d already been. Her mouth
would twist and contort, dance, almost.
 
She’d light a fag, a signal for me to be gone,
and so I went.  The hill in the park...
I’d run; the wind felt good on my face
 
and when I reached the top...the sting
of wet grass on my legs – him lifting 
my skirt...blue it was, with raspberry paisley
 
and him, asking how old I was, and what 
was my name, and as he spoke I saw
the wet tremble of his lips – 
 
and clouds, like dragons, devoured
the hill-top, swallowed the sun, then spat
it out again, in a way, no weatherman
could ever predict
 
and the sky, I remember that most...
blue it was...blue, with raspberry paisley.
Certificate 15
Poem
Miscellaneous

Comments

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Tragic sequence. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks for reading, Rhiannon...and yes, it is, unfortunately.

Tina

 

 

Submitted by Bee on

One awful situation making a child so vulnerable. There's a sad almost acceptance that runs through this that makes the reader feel helpless. 

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Your thoughts, as ever, Bee, more than appreciated.

Tina

 

 

 

 

Submitted by Starfish Girl on

Tragedy piled upon tragedy, no doubt those poor girls in Rotherham could relate very well to this.

Bleak, but so well written.

Lindy

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Good of you to read this, Lindy.  A bleak subject, as you so rightly say.

Tina

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

A dysfunctional family and calamitous consequences. A blunt and revealing message of an awful situation.

Luigi xxx 

 

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Your wisdom, as ever, Luigi, highly valued.

Tina

 

Submitted by Ray Schaufeld on

The way the experience is presented; the factual build-up to the running away, the sensations, the images,then the woozy distorted unreality of the  horror; the mind of the storyteller again attempting to run away and escape...One of the best poems you have written, Tina.

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

My sincere thanks to you, elsiesmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by Shannan on

... the ending so unexpected, and so unfair. Innocence trashed by adults in so many respects and the adults don't care, because it was what they were taught, how they were taught and the cycle of horror continues round and round and round all paisley blue...

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Such truth you speak, Shannan.  Unfortunately.

Many thanks for your inspired thinking.

Tina

 

Submitted by VeraClark on

A highly visual example of child trauma and resilience. You've captured the way children protect themselves through disassociation brilliantly, particularly in that last stanza. Beautiful image of raspberry paisley to 'hold' the abuse too, despite the horror of it.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, Vera.  Your thoughts, and wisdom, appreciated, so very much.

Tina