Monday, March 23, 2020

Grown up Rooms When You Were a Child


18 comments:

  1. Trust

    The privacy
    of my own
    room
    A place to
    knock
    Before entering
    Until the rule
    shattered, I was free
    to do anything, and hide
    my marijuana. Hide from
    responsibility, until dad
    came into my room to see
    the truth. No entrance
    without knocking and no
    more secrets. Until that
    day there was a boy
    turned into a
    man in the
    instant
    a knock
    was not
    given on
    that day.

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  2. our 5 bedroom house was full
    my sister’s family filled
    the upstairs

    my brother
    slept in the back porch
    which had all our sisters furniture

    the bottom 3 bedrooms were
    occupied by Grandma
    me, Mom & Dad

    the main downstairs
    bathroom was Grandma’s
    so I crept into the Master bath

    to take my morning shower
    as I got up early to
    start my day

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    Replies
    1. I suppose I was grown up at the time at 19, but Grandma was trying to maintain some sort of her own place at the time. there was a lot of tension in the house at the time.

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    2. I think you capture that. I like the rigid divides between people and place.

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    3. I like the second bit "...at the time" just as much. Thanks for sharing.

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    4. Nice sensitivity towards your elder.

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  3. A winter's view
    out of their window
    looking south, down the street.
    On a snow day's view,
    I could see cars, still buried in white~~~~
    I am four.
    Between the dressers sits a cedar chest, where shorts, and tops wait
    for summer. To be worn again, but for how many more seasons?

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  4. Oh that last question bring so much melancholy.

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  5. Wow, thanks. At that age, My Mother sewed for me. Clothes came and went as I grew. She's a saint.

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  6. “Grown up Places”

    Nothing was off limits, but
    Some places were electric
    With mystery and
    Certain unknown purpose.

    Dad’s things in the garage,
    Mom’s things in her closet,
    The basement pantry
    Where we waited out the storm. 

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  7. Here's a belated response to this prompt.

    Grown Up Places
    My parents’ bedroom was the one place
    in my childhood home I wasn’t welcome,
    at least when bad dreams seized me
    by the throat at 2 AM and sent me scurrying
    to the door. I’d sit shivering against the flimsy
    plywood, afraid to knock, thinking I heard
    footsteps creaking up the 19 stairs, stopping
    in the doorway to my room, where the
    poltergeists would toss my shoes around
    and knock things from the shelves
    until the sun came up. Sometimes,
    my mother heard me sniffling, and told
    me to come in. Then I’d curl up between
    my parents under the heavy blankets.

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  8. Wow, intense, Robbi. Thanks for sharing.

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