Bonding Over the Argos Catalogue

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I’m stuck for what to buy for my 11 year old

So big sister prises herself off Facebook

to help spend my money 

(an honourable cause, in her books)

and suddenly we’re flicking through the years

as she remembers the day Santa died

a friend’s house, a dinner table

how adult and child laughed as they stuck the knives in

how she’d wanted to cry, but joined in

ten years of innocence turned to gullibility

like wine to water,

such a hard fact to swallow.

Months later she’d learned too that happiness could be faked

smiles cut and pasted, sadness papered over

till time pressured cracks appeared and split life

in ugly lines you never chose

all the things you never wished or asked for…

 

And sometimes you’d like to find the words

explain why adults do the things they do

but where to start and where to end

and to what end

till silence seems the better choice

 

On page 186 we choose the perfect gift

the giant, magic, mega bubble

a thing she’s always dreamed of

Little sis, the geek, the reader

the dreamer, the poet

will get to stand inside her perfect world,

suspended for one moment in time

and though we’re not sure if she still believes

we’ll tiptoe round the spectrum of her dreams,

enjoy the beauty of her innocence

and imagine.

 

 

guiltinnocence

◄ Alternative Reality

The Tudor ►

Comments

tony sheridan

Wed 10th Oct 2012 11:31

Beautiful. I enjoyed reading this. Take care, Tony.

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Isobel

Fri 3rd Feb 2012 07:30

Thanks for that Chris - I'm glad you could hear that inner voice. I struggled with the word 'gullibility'. For me it really doesn't flow or sound poetic. Unfortunately there was no other word for it and as with all my work, meaning and inner voice takes precedence over poetry...

Hope to see you at the Tudor next week. x

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Chris Co

Fri 3rd Feb 2012 02:21

I really like this Isobel,

Favourite parts of the poem are;

Quote
ten years of innocence turned to gullibility

like wine to water,

such a hard fact to swallow.
Unquote


Quote
And sometimes you’d like to find the words

explain why adults do the things they do

but where to start and where to end

and to what end
Unquote
till silence seems the better choice

Really good inner voice coming through in this one.

My Best

Chris

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Julian (Admin)

Wed 11th Jan 2012 18:09

there are worse lies we perpetrate on our kids than Santa. hell, let them alone for a few innocent years before reality bites.

The picture reminds me of Paul Blackburn's poem: Te Be a Condom.

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Gareth Writer-Davies

Mon 2nd Jan 2012 17:36

Who wouldn't want a giant magic mega bubble?! Touching. A few capital Letters in wrong place, but hey the ho....

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Isobel

Sat 31st Dec 2011 17:27

Thanks for your comments, Steve, Jane, Nick.

I'm not advocating doing away with Father Christmas in this poem. It was just a reflection on how we let children down in so many ways.

I know that my kids treasure the memories they have of childhood - and Father Christmas is a big part of all that. I tend to think that suspended reality is good for them. They will be forced to deal with real life soon enough. Children should be allowed to be children and I think they draw strength from a proper childhood. I must say, I find all those Jacqueline Wilson books about death and divorce and every other social ill, really depressing for kids. Give me Harry Potter any day.

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jane wilcock

Sat 31st Dec 2011 16:38

Hi, Isobel,
I enjoyed Santa with my children but looking back I would not do it again. It's such a massive lie we make our children swallow I am surprised an adult ever believes anything again. Yet the reality of giving and the legend of st Nicholas is not so bad.

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Nick Coleman

Fri 30th Dec 2011 13:24

Interestingly thought out mother and child poem.
and I do like "we’ll tiptoe round the spectrum of her dreams"

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