vodkablivion

vodkablivion

 

our newborn hearts are conker-sized

strawberry red

 

we feast at mother’s breast

in an ocean of love

and all the while

our strawberry hearts’ glow

           

scrawny fingers grip tight on Mum’s 

toothie pegs force their way through gums.

Mum, winces, ‘it’s time to wean the wee-un’

 

Dad chuckles as his finger gets bitten

 

we kick our legs,

at our tubby tummies raspberried

in the kitchen sink bath 

splash Mum

 

Mum laughs

 

our first teetering tottering steps -

armchair, coffee table, knees -

reaching for outstretched arms and hugs,

 

finger marks on grown-ups jeans

trace exactly where we’ve been

 

we live those years in a rainbow land

until at play a bully’s hand

blacks an eye and makes us cry

 

and our heart shrinks - just a little.

and hardens - just a little

but not enough to notice

 

at school, acne, buck-teeth,

stick-out ears or ginger hair

attract bullies’ attention

 

we fight back - we get detention

 

and our heart shrinks - just a little

and hardens - just a little

but not enough to notice

 

we fail at exams and fail at love -

our glowing heart grows ever colder,

they say, “it’s part of getting older”

 

we raise our children

watching their hearts wax and wane

shrugging, “it’s the way of the world”

biting our lips and wishing it wasn’t

 

we get a job - lose a job.

get a spouse - louse that up too

 

not much of that newborn

fresh-fruit flesh survives,

 

our hearts return to strawberry size

but granite rock

heavy... leaden

 

we yearn,

to dwell again in that place of wonder

where everything amazed us,

before the magic that surrounded us

turned to ashes’ bitter dust

 

I want that strawberry heart back

if God is dead there is no way  

 

so

 

I’ll head for vodkablivion instead.