Let's Play

[Snypiuer]

Once in a while.

 

I can see him.

 

Out of the corner of my eye.

 

At the very edge of my vision.

 

I can usually catch a quick glimpse,

If I look over my shoulder,

 

Just so.

 

Or if I turn around,

Real fast.

 

That little boy.

 

The child I once was.

 

A kinetic ball,

Of arms and legs,

Tousled hair,

scraped knees

And untied tennis shoes.

 

An unbound bundle of energy.

 

Running and jumping,

With reckless abandon.

 

Fearless.

 

Secure in the knowledge,

That he is, in deed, immortal.

 

At times.

 

I can hear him.

In the background.

Just below the every day noise.

At a pitch,

 

Slightly off,

 

From the hum of average day to day life.

 

A giggle.

 

A laugh.

 

A squeal of delight,

When a new discovery is made.

 

I wish.

That, for a moment.

 

Just a little while.

 

That I could hold him close.

Take him in my arms,

And hug him tight.

Whisper in his ear.

"Never grow up.

Stay young forever.

Revel in your youth,

And the triumph of each new experience."

 

But I can not.

 

Worse yet.

 

As day after day,

Goes by.

 

I see him less.

 

It's harder.

And harder,

To hear him.

No matter how hard I try.

 

I fear the day will come.

When I will see him no more.

His voice,

Forever lost to me.

And I wonder.

 

If that sad day comes.

 

What will become of him?

 

The child,

Of my yesteryears.

 

Will he go on,

Forever playing,

Exploring,

Oblivious to my departure?

 

Or will he look around,

Bewildered and confused,

As to why he is now alone,

His partner in hide and seek,

Now gone?

 

Will he cower in fear,

Or cry aloud in my abandonment of him?

 

I can never know.

 

I can only hope.

That that day never comes.

And pray.

With all my heart.

 

All my soul.

 

And every fibre of my being.

That if that day ever does arrive.

That I feel a tugging at my shirt tail.

And I look down,

 

To find him.

 

Wide eyed and smiling.

Grasping my hand with both of his,

Pulling me along after him.

And saying,

 

With just the right amount of childish impatience.

 

"Come on!

Let's play!"

[Yuki Kokoro]

From the very beginning I connected very deeply with this poem, it made me want to laugh, but also to cry. The loss of childhood or innocence is something I find to be a very emotional topic, and you dealt with it very elegantly on a deeply personal level.

 

This part:

I fear the day will come.

When I will see him no more.

His voice,

Forever lost to me.

As well as this:

Or will he look around,

Bewildered and confused,

As to why he is now alone,

His partner in hide and seek,

Now gone?

Will he cower in fear,

Or cry aloud in my abandonment of him?

Made me want to cry. By the end of the poem my throat was getting tight. It's so hard to grow up and it sometime seems that the world has set out to rip away our childhoods. Our wonder at the world fades, and the squeals of delight become rarer and rarer.

 

It reminded me of one other book that inspires these same feelings in me: The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery.

 

Standing back and looking at this poem technically, I also think it flows beautifully. You cover a lot of different ideas in this poem and the transitions are seamless and natural. It's a wonderful blend of poetry and story-telling. The feelings of the speaker come through so clearly as well, and the detail given to the actions of his younger self make him a rich character in his own right. Everything is so personal and heartfelt.

 

My conclusion is....you should post here more often. I went back and looked for some of your other poems and found The Old Bridge, which was also wonderful.

 

Hope to see you around and my profuse compliments and thanks for sharing this.

[Wyvern]

I agree with Yuki in that I think that this is an excellent poem, Snypieur. The free verse read smoothly and had a natural rhythm to it while the imagery associated to childhood was striking and evocative. I particularly liked the description of the child as a "kinetic ball" in the second stanza, as I thought that it really evoked the energy that the innerchild is meant to personify. The sentiment of the child paying fewer visits as the days go by is also heartfelt, as ultimately there is a certain originality in innocence that people seem to lose as they grow older... (Wordsworth, anyone?)

 

There was one tiny segment of this piece that I didn't like quite as much as the rest, which were the lines "But I can not./ Worse yet." inbetween stanzas four and five. Those two lines didn't really seem to add anything to the poem to me, as they seemed to be implied by the stanzas that followed them.

 

Great stuff! As Yuki kindly pointed out, more of your works would definitely be a welcome addition to the boards!

[Lone Shadow]

There was one tiny segment of this piece that I didn't like quite as much as the rest, which were the lines "But I can not./ Worse yet." inbetween stanzas four and five. Those two lines didn't really seem to add anything to the poem to me, as they seemed to be implied by the stanzas that followed them.

I read this poem as though someone were telling me a story. Those lines, to me, are where the storyteller stopped for a moment and then continued on.

 

I wish I could stay a child forever, but I cannot. Worse yet, I'm losing my memory as I grow older.