Being a kid is scary sometimes; you do things, not knowing they’re wrong, just being in the moment and having fun. You get dirty, ruin your clothes, make a mess; you know, just being a kid those things happen. You find out early that “I didn’t know” and “I didn’t mean to” are not good answers.
Words I Didn’t Know
Mom was gone, don’t know where
It was a long time ago
I was five… I think
I slipped by the guy in the chair
My new dad, reading the paper
How’d the Yankees do
Wandered around the side of the house
Through the backyard, into the vacant lot
Where’d that big rusty pipe come from
A playground just for me
Run through it, lay in it
Rollup one side and then the other
Smiling big, trudging back to the house
Exhausted, walk in the front door
He looks over the top of the paper… then loses his mind
I never heard such hollering
Words I didn’t know hurled at me
Get those clothes off and get in the tub
Cleaned myself up, then stood in the corner
Wait ‘til your mom gets home
I watch a spider build its web down by my shoes
Mom finally gets home
Looks at me, looks at him
What’s going on, she asks him
He yells some more, even louder than before
Mom cries
I know somehow it’s my fault… and so it begins
Copyright © 2013 C Mashburn
Sharing this on dVerse Poets Pub’s Poetics this afternoon.
Buy "Be Still" from WestbowPress.com
claudia said
oh heck…that’s a hard place to be… if grown-ups would just use their imagination and try to understand how a child’s mind works…so sad that most forget…
charlesmashburn said
The sad thing is, there’s no manual for raising kids. I look back and try to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was young, took on three kids that weren’t his… a long sad story; and I wasn’t kidding with that last line; so it began.
siggiofmaine said
WoW. Tough memory…((( ♥♥♥))) Such a beginning….((( ♥♥♥)))
Thanks for sharing.
charlesmashburn said
Thank you, Siggi!
anl4 said
Some memories just make us feel bad, memories of others, or memories of our own. Poor guy, just think what he could have been, lots of people miss their opportunites in life, he could have been #1 Dad…another missed opportunity.
charlesmashburn said
All kinds of ways to look at things like this. Nowadays, I can write about it and forgive him, but I can’t excuse the things he did to us.
brian miller said
and so it begins…inplying this is only the start of it…ugh….you are right there is no manual…but it frustrates me those that dont let kids be kids you know….
charlesmashburn said
I surely do know, Brian. Thanks for the visit and comment.
hypercryptical said
Sad and painful to read Charles. I find it hard to comprehend how someone could be unkind to a child – although perhaps his ?cruelty towards you was an echo of, all he had known as a child himself…
Anna
charlesmashburn said
I think maybe you’re right, Anna. I don’t know what his childhood was like, but I have a feeling it wasn’t that great. He had two older brothers that were/are wonderful husbands and fathers, and another brother who was in and out of prison.
Thanks for the visit and comment.
Tino said
This is starting to become a theme for today/tonight. Been there, done that got the t………………blah de blah. I empathise all the way here. So it began just fills me with an impending terror because too many of us have been there and have known what that was like.
Tough subject matter, written in such a way that I am in that empty lot enjoying that time with you.
charlesmashburn said
That’s the thing, Tino. There were lots of empty lots and good times, and I made it through it all in spite of the bad stuff. I consider myself lucky, and credit Mom for balancing the scales.
Thanks for the visit and comment.
shanyns said
Charles – my heart aches for you. This poem was hard to read, I know that child. I know that place. Glad you made it out.
charlesmashburn said
I’m glad, too! I think we all turned out pretty good considering.
Thanks for the visit and comment.
shanyns said
Charles – we did make it! And we are okay. Most days 😉 and that is okay because we have our voices and our words and the courage to speak. Bless you.
charlesmashburn said
Thank you very much, Shanyns!
Pats Devotions said
Hi Charles; Your story is so familliar… Should I ask what you ment after your words” so it began”? thats OK I think I know… Blessings Bro Pat. 🙂
charlesmashburn said
That was just the beginning of many years of terror, Bro Pat. I think you may have already read my story “Those Dreaded Friday Night Lights”. but here’s the link if you haven’t and would like to. Those Dreaded Friday Night Lights
Pats Devotions said
Hi Charles; I visited your story and must say that it is very touching … Thanks for sharing it… Blessings.. Bro Pat 🙂
charlesmashburn said
Thank you, Bro Pat. I appreciate you!
Pats Devotions said
U R very welcome brother Charles; and I appreciate you as well.. God Bless… Bro Pat 🙂
Mary said
Well, from the last line it doesn’t seem like things got much better. No use to holler at children, I don’t think. You are good to be able to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it must have been hard to endure nonetheless.
charlesmashburn said
A lot of bad stuff got planted in my head, and it’s taken me about fifty years to get it out. Can’t say that I’m finished yet, but I’m working on it.
Thanks, Mary.
heidi said
You got that moment of “wait, what? what did I do?” and the certainty that kids have that it’s their fault and it breaks my heart. Nice job.
charlesmashburn said
We walked on eggshells constantly, in constant fear of making him angry.
Thanks, Heidi.
pandamoniumcat said
That’s a hard one…very sad going through the years of tears, and always thinking it’s you’re fault…sad poem Charles.
charlesmashburn said
It’s taken me years to understand I’m not a bad person, and it’s not my fault–among other things.
Thanks, Dianne.
Grace said
The ending made me sad Charles ~ Children always feel its their fault and we remember the times we were shouted to ~ Thanks for the personal share ~
charlesmashburn said
I don’t think we realize how much, and what, children remember.
Thanks, Grace.
ManicDdaily said
Painful poem. Spider web from foot up. k.
charlesmashburn said
Yes, it is painful, but not so much these days. I feel I must write about it though.
Thanks, k.
Gretchen Leary said
Aww, I hated it when my mom and stepdad fought
charlesmashburn said
Me too. Then I grew up and did the same thing.
Thank you, Gretchen.
Victoria C. Slotto said
Charles, you echo a common, melancholic story–one that’s even more prevalent now. It takes so many years to realize that truth, that we are not bad people. I loved the detail of the spider…that wove it all together (pun intended.)
charlesmashburn said
Yes, the story is all too common.
Thanks, Victoria.
zongrik said
kids in the middle of something that’s not their fault 😦
for the thousandth time
charlesmashburn said
Yep. Happens way too often.
Thanks, Tammy.
kkkkaty1 said
oh my, the beginning of a lifetime of anguish…so simply and openly written…at least you are not alone…although you felt alone for so long..thanks for sharing
charlesmashburn said
No, definitely not alone, but when you’re a kid, it often feels like you are very alone.
Thanks, Katy.
Tony said
As another commenter said, I do wonder what his own childhood had been like – we tend to either repeat the mistakes we see others making, assuming that our normality is everyone’s normality, or we overcompensate.
Sorry that you ahd such a tough upbringing. We hadour share of being shouted at and occasional punishment beatings in our home – but we knew we were loved, and still do.
Although hard to read emotionally, your poem is strong and I can imagine some people finding it quite cathartic as it helps them toface up to their own painful memories.
charlesmashburn said
I hope it is cathartic to some. The main goal of my blog is to encourage others, and maybe by telling my story–even the bad parts–others can take comfort in knowing they’re not alone. And, yes, we seem to repeat the pattern, and that’s maybe the worst thing about it.
Thanks for the thought-filled comment, Tony.
lucychili said
the pipe sounds like a great escape. other worlds are sometimes important. brave poem.
charlesmashburn said
I remember playing in that pipe so clearly; in the moment, just loving life.
Thanks for the visit and comment, Lucy.
Sabio Lantz said
How sad.
How long did it take for your mom to dump that guy.
I hope soon.
The spider, oh the spider — what a perfect line.
So tell me:
Have you rolled in a tube since? Have you overjoyed in dirt to celebrate freedom from such control?
My wife is a clean freak — and sometime at the expense of happiness.
So me and the kids, with great joy, get dirty when she is shopping or traveling.
A few weeks ago, we put our bathing suits on, went in the back yard and rolled in some mud and then hosed each other down — just to celebrate dirt. My kids think I am crazy, but damn if they don’t love it.
So, how have you celebrated dirt after those horrible childhood experiences?
charlesmashburn said
Believe me, I’ve rolled in the dirt many a time since. I like the way you and your kids celebrate it too.
Thanks for the great comment, Sabio.
Sabio Lantz said
I figured you rolled around to celebrate freedom from tyranny!
Again, fine poem.
Susie Clevenger (@wingsobutterfly) said
Goodness, how tough. I remember all the times I took things on as my fault when it wasn’t.
charlesmashburn said
Unfortunately, it is an all too common occurence. Thanks for the visit and comment, Susie!
Kelvin S.M. said
…the entire piece gives me an uneasy feel sir… i guess, not a good gesture & manner for someone older to treat a child like that even if it gets naughty it’s still a child… your last stanza doesn’t portray a good relationship bet couples & sets a bad impression in the eyes of a child.
charlesmashburn said
Sometimes life isn’t the way it should be.
Thanks for the visit and comment, Kelvin.