My babysitter’s
soft smooth soles
under the table
inexplicably calling
inviting me to touch
how she gasped
then giggled
after denying being ticklish
then quickly rubbed
her foot into the carpet
to extinguish the sensation
SCHWING
Innocence
has always been overrated
At 7
Classmates
at recess
with long yellow
red or brown hair
chanting in unison
in buckle shoes
plaid skirts
skipping rope
2 by 2
up and down
down and up
mesmerising
At 8
1965
a group of twelve or so
9 and 10 year olds
standing on the bleachers
behind the school
singing aloud
every word to
I Want To Hold Your Hand
I’d never seen them that way before
At 10
A steady string
of babysitters teachers
TV and movie stars
some my own age
my own neighborhood
I had crushes on
with lots more still to come
at night
long before VCRs DVRs
I would play
their faces voices
and sometimes their bodies
over again in my mind
At 12
Watching two 12 year olds
in white Go Go boots
their freshly filled curves
twisting
shimmying
back and forth
up and down
to
Yummy Yummy Yummy
mesmerising
At 16
Everything about them
intoxicating
faces
voices
personalities
hair
the soft smooth skin
of inner thigh
a powerful elixir
At 19
Weeping no tears
for my lost virginity
I plunge
with eyes wide shut
into the sea of love
and in the epiphany of
how breast and vagina
are truly
God’s works of art
At 29
Surrounded by
female forces
in multitude
shapes and sizes
I see each and all now
in a different light
some are sisters
others lovers
friends in varying degree
while so many
will remain strangers
a blessing in disguise
perhaps
At 42
Having passed 40
with no adverse affect
a delayed reaction
finally hits me
I am middle aged
though
depression brief
knowing instinctively
the best has yet to come
with built up immunity
to rejection
unrequited love
shyness
lack of confidence
awkwardness of youth
all outgrown
valuable lessons
are put to work
with positive results
At 55
As in childhood
I am blessed with their beauty
adding colour and variety
to an otherwise bland world
like me
full of hopes and dreams
talents and nightmares
limited only by personal
fears imperfections or foibles
for me
they are a reason to go on
and though the hunger is easier
to keep at bay now
with eyes wide open
those plaid skirts still sure
to raise an eyebrow
blood pressure
and other things
Note as per below video: The live version originally posted with this poem,
its related account was closed at Youtube, so I had to settle for the next best thing.
There is a live version of the song when Ohio Express was several years older on
Youtube. Good video, but the picture and sound are of a poorer quality.
1,270 hits as of November 2024
07/12/2013
Author's Note: What started out simply as a good idea two months ago, has turned into a major construction project. Lots of soul searching and brain picking here, with lines added, deleted, then added again, or added again but changed, while inserting new lines, strengthening others.
Ain't it grand! I appreciate that after all those years you still find us ladies appealing. It's fun to glimpse your memories at certain ages. Thanks for this ongoing project.
You really have some great images here, and the word play and sound is wonderful when I read it aloud. Ultimately, you spell out the growth of a boy into a man...but we are all still "boys" no matter what, eh? SCHWING!
this is a wonderful piece of reminiscence, Chris. for my money we could save tons of money on education when all a boy or a man ever need to educate themselves or receive a PhD. or Masters in this world is to have a girl or a woman filing past. when all is said and done, a boy is born and has only one good reason to continue on this earth, and all of that reason having to do with girls.
