Member Poem

Don't Play After Dark

Don’t play after dark.
Monsters hide in the shadows.
Don’t go beyond this border.
There
strangers come out to prey.
Don’t play after dark.
Play in the park.
and there
Park the play.

Homelessly meowing in the lane
A little kitten I brought home
to feed its hunger away.
Happily my little friend
licked and rubbed and tickled
its faithful fur
on my feet
dirty with clay.

Don’t bring home these wild things.
They carry filth and fleas.
They shrieked and shooed it away.
Again
made my friend a stray.

Ironed frocks I was made to wear
and crisp white innocent inners.
When I cartwheeled my way
across the park
they said my bloomers
invite an awkward gaze.

Good girls don’t parade
their girlness this way.
So next time
shorts I wore,
To zip my girlness away.

They tug and tame
and oil the wildness of my mane.
I run and rebel
against the pain of their reign.
Two perfect plaits they make
Red-ribboned
For display.

Don’t let your hair loose.
Good girls don’t transgress
this tress rule
Keep it neatly tucked away.

A man I met
sitting sadly on his luggage.
He lived in this palace
of cardboard boxes thrown his way.
Made me envy his home.
Mine was too big anyway.
I gave him my sandwich
and he sobbed away
Maybe he didn’t like the taste
They make it so bad some days.

They saw me with him
and quickly dragged me away
Don’t help these filthy creatures
Fleas and dirt and grime
Should be kept at a bay.

Come home.
Play there.
Stay home.
Stray at home.

Don’t color the walls
It spoils the beauty of the place
Ugly
is what people will say.
And they coloured it white again
To hide the rainbows I made
Doodled at the thought of rain.

Enough of play.
Off to school.
Learn your lessons.
Repeat and rote.
They rot the books this way.

Don’t fail.
Failure is a shame
A plus A plus A plus
Studying is no game.
Fail!
You will be ashamed.
They taught me other alphabets
But always got stuck to the “A.”

Don’t lie.
Your nose will grow so long
No will love you and hug your cries away.
Stand tall and sit straight.
Help others.
Be good.

Look how many lies they say.
Why don’t their noses grow long that way?

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This poem is an ode to the experiences of childhood that often clash with the confusing voices of the adult world. The innocent incomprehensibility of these contradictions, between what is said and what is expected, is a part of our growing up process. It is an attempt to recall these fragments of childhood lost in the labyrinths of the all-grown-up mind when we merge and become another adult voice in the world. 

Originally published online by Silver Birch Press for 'Me, as a Child' poetry series. Link: https://goo.gl/kg54Px