Little Boy Lost (Series – Part 1)

colours were a blur back then, before the War began
the world was grey ~ bundled in arms, given to faces
you didn’t recognise, could you tell who was real
cries for those you knew, unheard in darkest rooms

years passed, at six, she took you back, to share her life
~ with him, who fought with drunken screams, until you
ran away, back to the arms, that held you soft
and there was a silent love

confusion, upheaval, as you were taken ‘home’
~ biological this time, to the father you never knew
knees plunged deep in Europe’s snow, tiny hands
chilled to the bone, sent to chop the wood, with pockets sewn

by the man whose roof you slept beneath, hands could not
be warmed ~ the icy bitter winds, the threadbare coat and
pants, no boots to stop the damp, doing as instructed
curled body, a child that attic slept, did you dream

your cries should have been louder, what were your thoughts
loneliness your friend; a 1930’s scholar, University
was for you ~ that is what your teacher said, but your father
forbade it, no money to be wasted on school

your half sibling, ate his meal whilst warming chilled bones
by the fire ~ the woman who did not give you birth
demanding your meals eaten, on the landing of the stairs
so you sat and watched in silence, without love

a child’s life
should not be like this
a childhood that was yours
I wish you had screamed louder Pop
I wish
you didn’t have to scream at all

©jmtacken 9th November 2013

I wish to do my Pop’s life in prose.  As this is my 660th post. It may be some time before the next one, as there is a lot of research to be done.

Looking in the mirror

When I look into the mirror
who looks back at me?
character lines etched
by a chisel
eyes that no longer
have clarity

wrinkles, skin loose
thinner than it was
time marches on,  the woman
that looks back now so very
different than the girl of my
childhood, this is the grown up me

the foundations still remain
yet sometimes when I see myself
it’s hard to visualise who I once
was, the years unfailingly have
changed the image of the physical and
yet,  I’m aware changes are inevitable

am I happy to accept?
some days I do, others not
should I convince myself
to refrain from feeling as I do?
my mind remains the same regardless
the inner me not altered

this is only my outer shell
one that has accompanied my
life for 57 years, yet forgive
me my reflection, there are
moments when I gaze at you
and wish that who looked back

was that little girl once more
swirling in a pretty party dress
without a care in the world
no thought given to appearance
no worries of her future
no desire for anything to change

compliments will flatter for just
a moment but they fail to erase
completely those times when 
I look upon myself and feel this way
you may not know of what I speak
you may not have reached this stage

how my impression is of me now,  the
aspiration to feel like that little girl
once more, a non-sensical notion
to turn back the hands of time
but just for one sweet moment
one brief minute or three

I think of how nice it would
be to have that chance
to start life over,  to see the little girl
where I stand now….looking back at me

Written for  – Picture it & Write

Over 50 and then some

Life over 50

how does it change us?

what makes us different if anything?

we see the same things ……. though probably now through squinted eyes or glasses

we hear the same things … though you may have to speak up a little or slower

we smell the same things …. our nostrils haven’t let us down yet

do we feel the same?

hmmm no… our brains think we do, our bodies are less inclined

it’s our prerogative to have achy knees, hands, feet or legs, we have used them for a long time

to say what we want to though it may offend, our right to speak our mind

to be who we are without pretence

to laugh when possibly inappropriate or to cry when our insides tell us to

to enjoy ourselves like never before

we aren’t the younger generation any longer

we have had to work hard all our lives to get our possessions

we are grateful for having learnt manners and respect for others and not be cruel or bully

we worked up the chain in our jobs to obtain a higher rank

we can be who we are without apology

our mind tells us age is a number…our bodies remind us it isn’t

That’s all nothing more, nothing less

we can groan when we stand up, bend down, sit, squat or wake

we can repeat ourselves

we can forget things

make mountains out of molehills

procrastinate

we can be tired, grumpy, hysterical and delirious

we can be over the moon or wet our pants from laughing too hard

we remember parts of our childhood & perhaps some of our youth

we wonder if we had our time again would we change anything

we do secretly wish for an anti ageing cream that works

we would like our skin to be smooth as a babes bottom again

but can we have it ….no

do we accept our laugh lines on our faces…we should

for they are ‘us’ they tell our story of what we have done and where we have been without a spoken word

would we wish to go back in time and change who we are or how we are

but how would we change things, we are who we are because of what we have experienced in our lives, what we have

learnt, what we have taught, what we have been shown, where we were born, how we were brought up

to change ‘us’ would mean the changing of events, experiences,relationships,  friends, colleagues and family that are

around us

we went through pain to feel the happiness

we went through sorrow to feel the joy

we went through hardship to have good fortune

and that I don’t think I want that to change

we can be many things, we have gratefully lived till now, and we will continue to do so…hopefully.

My Dad – Affectionately ‘Pop’

For my Pop,

This is what I wrote & read to my father not so long ago.

For the last few months I have thought more and more about wanting to sit with you and say what I am about to. Instead I being the writer have written those words and will read it, as hopefully I shall find this easier.

What can a daughter say to her father, that I love you totally? Admire your courage to survive your upbringing, your strength to conquer against all odds your escape during the war. Your tenacity to fight for a better life, not only for yourself but for my mother and your children.

You are a man of dignity and honesty. You have been and still are a wonderful husband to mum and a truly devoted and loving father to your children. You have always been there to support and encourage and give me much-needed advice. You have been the disciplinarian when needed when I was younger, the confidant as I grew and the person I could rely on.

Every daughter will say their father is the best, but of you it is true. It is a pity we don’t ‘know’ the man before they became our father, as I would have liked to have known you in your youth, or a young man, but then again are you so different from then to now? As life rolls by I have so many memories of you and my life is the better for it. I would not change one moment, nor one day.

I have wanted to say these things to you for sometime and even though I pray with my entire being that you will be with me for many years to come, reality means that may not be so. This is why I say this to you now, because I do not want to miss the opportunity of not being able to tell you. I adore you Pop, you will always be with me on this earth or when your time comes to leave it. Perhaps believe in the ever after, so that I can still talk to you and know that you are around me. No words shall comfort my grief or pain when you are not here to talk to or laugh with. I shall remember playing childhood games with you, I shall remember sharing a loaf of bread and a full piece of salami in a car with you and not having anything to cut them with. Our memories will being a smile to my heart. I love you unconditionally and respect you as my father and as a human being.

You have brought me up well and taught me well and for that I am eternally grateful.

You are in my heart and so much a part of me, that tears well in my eyes as I write these words.

But I wanted to say them – had to say them. I am so proud to be your daughter and even more proud that you Pop are my father. So with this I close, I wipe the tears and I vow to spend as much time with you as I can. I love you.

I shared this with you, to implore those that may read it, to say what they feel to their parents, before the chance has been taken from you.  I did and I have made peace within myself, that when his time does come he will know my thoughts and how much I love him. I held his hand and struggled with the tears as I read this to him, but I had the opportunity to do so and for that I am happy.

Remember the lyrics to Mike and the Mechanics Song  The Living Years-

I wasn't there that morning
When my Father passed away
I didn't get to tell him
All the things I had to say