For my second birthday my nana bought me a rag doll.
It’s still lurking beneath my pillows, hidden from my friends.
In my first year of primary school I stole a small toy horse.
My mum found it in my sock drawer and took away my pocket money.
I used to have nightmares about the gnomes in my grandparent’s garden. They always wondered why I never ventured further up the path.
When I was six I was a bridesmaid for my French auntie.
I didn’t wear a dress again until I was fifteen.
One Christmas I slipped on some black ice in Whitby,
now a lumpy white scar clings to my thumb like moss.
When I went to stay at my cousin’s I broke my sister’s necklace.
I hid the beads in my suitcase and said the dog did it.
I once went rock pooling in North Wales and protested when I wasn’t
allowed to take anything home; I sneaked a starfish into my back pocket.
At secondary school people told me I was posh because I used big words;
I told them they were being hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobic.
I was convinced I was going to marry my nursery sweetheart and drew my wedding dress to illustrate. Mum likes to show this to my new boyfriends.
I was twelve when I first saw Australia. Now I miss the full-faced moon that always looked brighter upside down.
When I was fourteen I bought my first Evanescence CD and Mike painted my nails black; just to be different, of course.
When I first discovered I was a Libra I got angry that my sign was the only inanimate object – am I that dull?
My favourite flower is the poppy. I like to imagine sitting on their black cushions, surrounded by red petal turrets.
Whenever my little cousins come to stay we play Harry Potter and find wand-shaped sticks in the woods. I pretend I’m not enjoying myself.
I have a mole hidden between my third and fourth finger on my left hand. I can’t wait to conceal it with gold wrapping.
Every time I watch E.T. I cry. Especially when the marigolds
start blooming. My parents make me watch it every sodding Christmas.
I write poetry best in my head when I’m in the shower;
in fact that’s where this one was written.
Comments
MistakenMagic | February 12, 2009 - 15:48
I'm really sorry about the form of this one; the lines were a little too long to fit! But imagine that they are all two-line stanzas as intended ;)
Magic xxx
Skunk | February 12, 2009 - 16:11
"I told them they were being hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobic"
Who makes up these words? And why?
MistakenMagic | February 12, 2009 - 16:14
Someone with limited people-skills ;)
Thanks for commenting!
Magic xxx
FTSE100 | February 12, 2009 - 18:09
"I have a mole..." Good to know you're doing your bit for wildlife, Magic. They like worms best of all. I've never seen the attraction myself.
You've just given me an idea for a story...
MistakenMagic | February 12, 2009 - 18:12
I'm glad I've been a source of inspiration FTSE ;) I look forward to reading it!
Magic xxx
Silver Spun Sand | February 12, 2009 - 18:42
Magic, this is Magic! And I luuuuuuurve your word:-)
Whatever it means. I have googled it, but unsurprisingly, to no avail. Seriously though, very much enjoyed.
Tina xxx
MistakenMagic | February 12, 2009 - 19:05
Do you mean hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobic?
It's the correct term for a fear of long words!
Magic xxx
Silver Spun Sand | February 12, 2009 - 21:34
Well, all I have to say on the matter is, pneumonoultramicroscpicsilicovolcanoconiosis. And, in case you ask, no - I don't have the faintest idea what it means;-)
Tina xxx
Skunk | February 12, 2009 - 23:28
I wonder if there's a dictionary that lists words in order of length? Then you could decide how posh you wanted to be by using your special part of the dictionary. But maybe the anti-posh wouldn't let us say 'the' or 'it' any more. They'd say we had plenty of words of our own, so what do we want to pinch theirs for? They'd set their rotweillers on us and pelt us with pizza. The slightly posh could say 'women' but not 'men'. It would be the Berlin wall all over again with words getting caught the wrong side of the dividing line. The posh could hardly say anything at all, they'd have no articles, prepositions, conjunctions ... in fact I suspect they'd have to make do with nouns, the occasional verb and lots of hand gestures. Oh, why can't we go back to the old ways?
MistakenMagic | February 14, 2009 - 11:21
What an amazing imagination you have Skunk! I challenge you and FTSE to write a poem about this 'word wall' ;)
Magic xxx
Nathan Bednarek | February 14, 2009 - 13:30
'At secondary school people told me I was posh because I used big words;
I told them they were being hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobic.'
I just love this. It really made me laugh. I also like the last stanza and the poem worked really well as a whole. Well done.
Nathan.
MistakenMagic | February 14, 2009 - 14:07
Thank you Nathan! Yes, I think FTSE and Skunk's poems are rubbing off on me :0 Been a while since I wrote a poem that wasn't 'sad' - according to my friends anyway ;)
Magic xxx
Kahdai | June 14, 2010 - 13:10
I think a lot of this is very like me! ^^ xxx
MistakenMagic | June 14, 2010 - 15:03
Wow, Kahdai - it's been ages since I read this one again, let alone wrote it ;) Glad we have similarities! :)
Magic xxx
Kahdai | June 18, 2010 - 14:25
yes very coincidence