Kenny And Arthur

Kenny and Arhur.

They owned our house until my father bought it.

They owned all the houses in that street and the store on the corner.

And all the garages too.

Kenny and Arthur, they parked their Rolls Royce Silver Cloud outside our house

And I would play on it when I was a young child,

Climbing over it in my summer sandals, sliding around on it and putting sticky fingers all over the outside mirrors.

Kenny knocked at our house one evening and said, your daughter is ruining our car.

I guess I hadn't realised it was a car.

 

Kenny of Kenny and Arthur used to blink a lot

And I thought blinking was a sign of kindness,

So I tried blinking whenever I was in trouble

Because I didn't understand.

And the days of summer stretched out like long forsaken islands,

Of laziness, buzzing bees and sweeties sticking to my clothes.

Petal-less flowers in a haze of heated sun,

For the petals were gone,

Blown in the summer wind.

 

And my mother bought all our food from Kenny and Arthur's store

And she went to the butcher to buy all the meat she needed

And she stood cooking in the kitchen,

Nervous, like the kitchen was haunted.

And it was haunted with all the emotion being spilled as she cooked and laboured

Amid the hum of the washing machine and the little red light that always glowed,

Like a devil's eye.

 

Then Kenny and Arthur grew a little bit older

And they patted me on the head until I became a little bit taller

And they were part of who I was,

Giving me gifts of cardboard cut-outs from the store.

And I coverted each gift,

Saving everything in my own quiet world.

I don't know why I think of Kenny and Arthur

They might be dead now or very much older.

And it's still there now, that tree lined street,

That garage next to our old house,

The one with my finger prints and secret whispers engrained in the wood.

Secret symphonies of childhood,

Still there now.

Solemn as a bell.

🌷 (4)

◄ It Was Midsummer

Comments

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Jon

Wed 13th Dec 2017 10:55

Hi Hannah
Fantastic piece. I loved all of this, I must confess I got teary eyed at your account of your Mother in the kitchen, " and it was haunted with all the emotion being spilled as she cooked and laboured".
Beautiful.

Jon

Ryn

Sat 9th Dec 2017 15:50

once again lovely! so glad to get to read you once again!

With love,
Ryn

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Hannah Collins

Fri 8th Dec 2017 20:50

So pleased to hear from you Laura.
This is my newest poem and I suddenly thought about Kenny and Arthur.
I sometimes notice in films how actors try to convey things by blinking.
It's strange and mystical how we try to understand the world as children.

Hannah

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Hannah Collins

Fri 8th Dec 2017 20:46

Thank you Graham for your inspirational comment.
I love to read and write about childhood.

Hannah

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Hannah Collins

Fri 8th Dec 2017 20:45

Thank you so much Ray. I do agree with you about Madame Tussauds,

Hannah

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raypool

Thu 7th Dec 2017 16:59

Lovingly crafted memories - a continuum of wistful thoughts and a complete joy. How can we ever forget Kenny and Arthur again? They need to be in Madame Tussauds for my money! I love your reminiscences Hannah, so musky and heady.

Ray

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Graham Sherwood

Thu 7th Dec 2017 16:05

Great childhood memories Hannah. Get as many out as you can. They will be wonderful gifts for your children and grandchildren one day.

I remember burying an oxo tin (you probably have never seen one) in the garden with four pennies inside it. Try as I might, I could never find it again?

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Laura Taylor

Thu 7th Dec 2017 15:06

You have a real gift for ploughing backwards into the past and creating these wonderful stories. Whether they are true or not, I don't know. I suspect they are. Doesn't matter for this one, anyway. I love the delicacy, the subtlety you bring, and the awareness of what is actually in the world. Finger prints and secret whispers 😃

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Hannah Collins

Thu 7th Dec 2017 12:55

Thank you so much Beno.

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Beno

Wed 6th Dec 2017 21:15

OMG! Speechless. Completely loved it. Beno.

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