This is a much-revised version of a poem that I posted quite some time ago.
Believe it is a lot better. Hope I'm right. xOx Pea xOx
Leather, men’s size 34. Quarter inch
thick, one inch wide. Silver-plated
buckle three inches wide. Mother had
forked a fortune for the thing in the hope
the stick-in-the-mud she'd been stupid
enough to marry would find the receipt
while snooping and have a stroke. Said
buy a belt, he'd sniped. Rodeo clown
wouldn't be caught dead wearing this.
When the belt surfaced when she was
rifling a closet for pocketed Luckies,
she ran a finger over the buckle
and thought, Perfect. Saturday, she
made Scrooge screw a hook for the
belt on the back of the bathroom door.
I can see the flag on the buckle. Says
Arkansas. To the left is a mockingbird
with a beak looks sharp as a butcher's
cleaver; around the edge, a hack artist
has made wrecks of apple blossoms.
The rage came out of nowhere. Go get the belt! Go get the belt! Be quick, or you'll get worse. I am going to skin you alive!
Leather, men's size 34; metal
flag, bird, and terrible flowers
tattoo young flesh.
Pea, the scars work their way out of our memory into the light of reality's bite. Their harsh impact we relive with each recall. Not a pretty thing to contend with. We always ask ourselves, why was I not worth of the love rather than the punishment. Our self esteem seeks ways to cover up the hurt. However it is never more than superficially successful. The sting and the questions return throughout our lives. I bid you love and peace my dear friend. Jon Michael
This one hurts. :( My folks (especially Mom) didn't use THE. B E L T -- their hands were enough to scar. Bruise. Their words were worse, at times -- I'd rather they beat me to death than tell me I was worthless.
Phyll ... I apologize for all male 'Rat-bastards!'
Mine was a Fly-back paddle also - by Mom, but never on a bare butt ...
when I knew it was comin' - stuck a comic book in my pants ... then,
faked the pain ... tk...
I don't know if this is better than the original, Phyllis,
but it brought back painful memories of my madcap boyhood
days when Mother bypassed the belt and cut a long switch
from the backyard tree. Ouch! But I love it. -gene.
Wasn't expecting tragedy. Bless you for sharing something I never had to endure. Oh sure, mom would buy the old flyback paddles and wait for the rubber band to break and then bust them across our deserving little butts. The paddles were flimsy but not the lesson. Patrick
Pengey Penguin takes us on a memorable journey where an unlikely character, twists of fate, and minor miracles help him and his rag-tag Army of little fury animals save Christmas.325 page read to me 4-8 - 9 up reads very quickly.
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(((Gentle HUGS))) and much love, Karla. :(
Mine was a Fly-back paddle also - by Mom, but never on a bare butt ...
when I knew it was comin' - stuck a comic book in my pants ... then,
faked the pain ... tk...
Ron
Carole~
fee
but it brought back painful memories of my madcap boyhood
days when Mother bypassed the belt and cut a long switch
from the backyard tree. Ouch! But I love it. -gene.
i grew up so sheltered and sometimes feel guilty about that
Newfie Hugs, Rose