Tag Archives: childhood

The Girl with the Square Glasses

Her dark kohl eyes
Have sunshine and stardust in them
And when she smiles,
Diamonds falter.

Her innocence radiates from her tongue
Everytime she rolls out a word
Long legs, short skirts
Laughing with the boys like she’s one of them

Words of worship for that one fictional hero
Distributing chocolates on his birthday
Broken up with her boyfriend
The day I left her behind.

See her photographs with a hundred likes
And her funny status updates everyone can relate to
Her ideas, her wisdom, her humor, her isms
Growing up into a wonderful woman.

The girl with the square glasses
With her good girl faith and her tight little skirt
Her long, shiny hair and her hot red lips
Reminding you of your imperfect life.

It was, but, a month ago
When you swore it was a joke
When you saw her status update
And a picture with mehandi
Till you saw the video
You didn’t believe it was true.
But the cheesy song and the congratulations posts
Took you out of your reverie.

Engaged to be married, she says
Happy to be his soon-to-be wife.
Photographs after photographs pour in
And the cheesy video of an orchestrated act
Chokes you a bit. With disgust, you’re sure
Who does that in front of family and guests?

Unsure of what to think
A quick phone call and a panic attack later
You’re sure you’ve heard the truth
Not pregnant, not forced,
At twenty she’s tying the knott.

You think back to seven years ago
Eighth grade, her first boyfriend
Like Romeo and Juliet-from fighting schools
An affair for all of you to remember
When they broke up over the telephone and she cried for a month about him

You remember your school plays
Your basketball games, and cellophane crafts
Your pyjama parties with make believe tea
And your love for that popular TV show
Which paired characters with your and your crush’s names.

You think back to your grand plans of world tours
And living together as roommates,
Because you can cook and she can clean
The idea of growing up improbable
For an infinitely long time.


I will tell my children about you

I will warn my children about you.
The kinds that give you all,
But then take it away
Faster than you know it’s yours.

I will warn my children about you.
About the dozen promises
That both of us made,
And broke in the blink of an eye.

I will warn my children about you.
About us, at fifty, with a cigar
In our hands, and whiskey on the table
Sitting on the cliff talking about life.

I will tell my children about you.
The godcousins they never had
The dogs they didn’t befriend
The friends they never knew.

I will tell my children about you.
The plans of gatecrashing your vacation
To end life, because you don’t want to treat your cancer
And the waffles I never got to bring you.

I will tell my children about you.
About friendships that may not last forever
Even though you both try
Even though you both love.

I will tell my children about you.
About promises they want to keep
But cannot, because of their fears
And the anxieties that cripple them.

I will tell my children about you.
About growing up with you.
About how just because something ended
Doesn’t mean it was not worth it.

Childhood Enemy

That’s all there’s left
Of the childhood, filled
With dirt roads, and mangoes
And a tyre swing on a banyan tree.

You were there, and I was there.
Hitting, pulling hair, name calling
Shouting, Pinching, Punching
Kicking, Stonewalling, Crying.

Would you ever calm down?
You useless piece of dirt?
Your hair ruffled, pants torn, unknott tie
Shirts missing buttons, shoes missing lace
Socks torn, smelling of dead rats

Your mouth spewing anger and mirth
Not a word of comfort to the distressed
Not a finger to wipe away a tear
Existing and agonizing, hitting and running

You make my innocence imperfect
Making me want to throw stones at you
When our parents forced us to be friends
And you hit me, and punch me, and slap me,
And I return with all the force I can muster

You ignorant prat, you Oedipal child
Your presence made me gag
Your discomfort made me smile
Your failure made me happy

And you have grown up, and so have I
You, left behind in your small, empty town
Still a mama’s darling, living a lie
As I grow bigger and better, stronger and brighter

And you live with those memories
Where you bullied me, and laughed
And I live my life, full and worthy
And laugh at you, as you fail everything

But I don’t regret it. You still make
My blood boil with hatred.
Pure, innocent, benign hatred
From the darkest pits of my bones, to the hallowed beatings of my cold heart.

Since April is Poetry Month, I’m trying to post one poem every two days. 

It could be poems I absolutely admire, a series of poems that tell a story, or originals.

This one is an original, that I had previously written on my other blog, one day when I had gotten up dreaming that this person had tried to kill me.