Box Room

Gold cherry

By Ed Crane

Tue, 04 Aug 2020
  • 5252 reads
17 comments
 

A North Kent box-room bedroom

beneath the roof of a 30’s semi

anchored in a sea of thousands.

 

A secure place for toddlers with a paraffin night-light

and imaginary black-on-black shadows

where Mum comes running to calm the screams.

 

A bed next a wall with damp patches in winter

where the spread becomes a multi-lane freeway

for De Sotos, Plymouths and Primrose El Dorado convertibles,

Brands Hatch race track for Ferraris, Alfas and Dad’s old MG.

or London streets for STL buses and Foden trucks with eight wheels.

Pillows: clouds or snow-capped mountain backdrops.

 

A study room for eleven-plus and onward to swots-for-mocks.

A single standing wardrobe, a place for uniforms

and secreted pornographic pictures with pubic pussies masked out.

Mum’s wry smile: I know she knows. Words never acknowledged;

unsure if she was proud or sad I was growing up.

 

 A North Kent box-room bedroom

beneath the roof of a 30’s semi

anchored in a sea of thousands.

 

Abandoned for a larger room. Stereo record player. Seats for mates (and girls).

A secure place for a new sibling with a battery powered nite-lite. . . .

Certificate PG
Poem
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by onemorething on

Love the image of a house anchored in a sea of thousands. Also how in memories of rooms we seem to remember the quirkiest of details like the damp on the wall and how you made it into a race track. I remember being so ill for months when I was little and stared at some 70s curtains for so long that I had created a world out of the patterns on them. A lovely poem that your bedroom was your safe space. Made me smile. Rachel :)

 

Submitted by Ed Crane on

Where I grew up seemed like the epicentre of suburban SE London. If you found a place higher then two stories all you saw was a sea of semi-detached suburban roofs. I couldn't wait to get away. When I finished my studies I wound up in East Anglia and my parents thought it was such a good idea they sold up and went as well ;)

(and my younger brother had a much more healthy environment to grow up in, lucky boy) 

70's curtains were enough to give anybody hellucinations I seem to recall.

Thanks again for reading and the feedback

Ed

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

A lovely poem, Ed, with comforting memories of a small bedroom with a bedspread whose pattern is a source of inventive imagination and a feeling of being secure within those four walls.

Best, Luigi

 

Submitted by Ed Crane on

Ha ha that old bedspread did some miles laugh

Cheers

Ed

 

Submitted by Penny4athought on

Captivating and relatable...The bedroom of childhood- does it ever truly leave us? To me those are the warmest, most vivid images as we marched on to adulthood. And when we falter,  they call us back to comfort and cocoon our bruised ego. This is very well written and I especially liked how the room accommodated the child's grand imagination.smiley

Penny4athought

Submitted by Ed Crane on

I can close my eyes and still recall my little bedroom in detail, especially the burgandy bedspread with white lines that that served as road markings.

I'mvery pleased you  liked this

Ed.

 

Submitted by Ewan on

Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day: rich in content and meaning. Please share or retweet if you like it too.

Author Page at the 'Zon
 

Submitted by Ewan on

loved this. Any reason for "night-lite" vice "night-light"? You have "nite-lite" at the end. Should "swats" in "swats-for-mocks" be swots (like I was)?

Well done.

Author Page at the 'Zon
 

Submitted by Ed Crane on

I'm glad you like this and thank you very much appreciate the golden cherries, which I never expected.

Regarding night-lite, I got to thinking nite-lite was under copyright, but it seems many companies use this term, so I will change the wording to night-light in the first stanza because I doubt it was used back then, but I will let my brother have nite-lite since it was more 70's and his was electric.

Also thanks for the tip about swotting. I will change the spelling. I was referring to swotting for mock GCEs by the time of the real exams I was in a bigger bedroom. 

Thanks again, Ewan! 

Ed 

BTW: I can't find a suitable UK city suburb image that isn't under copyright so I didn't add any image to this

 

 

Submitted by Parson Thru on

Great stuff, Ed. Must be something to do with this sturgeon moon.

Bri-Nylon sheets in fetching tangerine?

Waking to anxious sweating Houdini scenes and violent internal electrical storms. Just the job for a noisy diff, though.

Nicely done. I also liked the idea of the semi among thousands. That room launched you on an interesting and well travelled life.

My phone typing finger is malfunctioning. Really enjoyed this one, Ed.

Parson Thru

Submitted by Ed Crane on

Bri-nylon sheets??? No thanks. Dreadful things. You could power a light bulb of them! My mother soon dropped those thank God. I think her's lit up the bonfire on Nov. 5th, 19?? :)

An interesting and well travelled life? 

Maybe, but certaintly not without more than a few patches of turbulence, I'm afraid.

Thanks, mate.

Ed

 

 

 

Submitted by drew_gummerson on

Good poem Ed. 

 

Submitted by Ed Crane on

I'm pleased you liked it.

Cheers

Ed

 

Submitted by celticman on

mates (and girls)...that'd be a hopefully, then? 

 

Submitted by Ed Crane on

Cheers, Jack

Ed

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

catching up - really enjoyed this trip back to the decades that taste forgot, and the endlessness of suburbia - and yes, the terrifying curtains - you can buy them as prized vintage items now!

 

Submitted by Ed Crane on

Yes not a lot of taste back then in many ways ..... food included. I have to admit I wish I still had my 70's curtains they were full length ones from Healds of London, very high quality, (we knew a man who knew a man  ---- who worked there) I imagine they would fetch a pretty penny now.

Endless suburbia yup perfect description. First chance I got I was out!

X

Ed