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kid in the playground

Author: ertha
Elite Ratio:    4.35 - 124 /135 /24
Words: 68
Class/Type: Poetry /Serious
Total Views: 868
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 556


learning life's games

kid in the playground

The kid in the
eyes tight shut
while the others hide

… a hundred
he shouts expectantly
then he looks,
hearing giggles

Soon he sees
he's alone,
his smeared
grimy cheeks
his feelings.


he shouts in the
empty playground,
his own voice
echo back.

… coming, ready or not …

Submitted on 2005-12-12 18:33:27     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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  i like the way youve set the scene here, youve taken sort of a typical idea and put it into a new setting.

"The kid in the
counting, "

i think perhaps if you added, "is" before counting. just to make the thought more complete, its sort of non objective i guess, without the is.

"eyes tight shut
while the othershide "

this is a really interesting metaphor

i think between this part, and the next you should have maybe added a little more imagry, so the reader's sense of childhood and innocence is increased and then, more so smashed by the next part.

"his smeared
grimy cheeks
his feelings."

i think you should have elaborated on his feeling and how they are mirrored by his apperance, i feel unfufilled.

i love how the last part is almost like he's telling himself he's coming. like this is life and its happening right now.

i like it

| Posted on 2005-12-12 00:00:00 | by girlunderglass | [ Reply to This ]
  No doubt life's 'games' can be rough lessons for those outsiders left abandoned by 'royalty' (especially those who struggle to express an original thought). Of course, being the outsider does help develop the same individuality responsible for some of the finest prose/poetry/painting/scuplture/music/etc. ever produced. BTW, those that are left behind can be a determined bunch, often not only catching the mindless horde, but surpassing them as well. Ready or not. Nicely done.
| Posted on 2005-12-12 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ]
  This absolutely broke my heart. Growing up I was always the odd girl out. Never pick to play, always picked on. I wore second hand clothes and second hand shoes, but it hurt first class to be forgotten and ignored.

Some of life's lessons are brutal. Sometimes children can be brutal.

This is well done,
Keep up the good work!

| Posted on 2005-12-12 00:00:00 | by Chell | [ Reply to This ]
  Quite a memory revealed here from my past, I went to an old one room country school (yes they did exist, and I'm really that old ). We had a playground about a thousand yards away from the shool house at the top of the hill completely out of sight of the teacher. Across a small creek and through a patch of woods to a field we olayed ball in. There we played a lot of things also nobody ever knew about.
First kisses to hey you guys get out of here or we will drown you in the creek stuff!
Childhood memories need to be thought of every now and then just to keep us young!
Great idea here, thanks for reminding ME, anyways.
Did you ever play catch the chicken? It was a lot like that show where they make you eat things like worms and manure, if you refused to eat what was picked you had to out run the reat of the group or they fed it to you.
Great job here Ertha, Later.
| Posted on 2005-12-12 00:00:00 | by Clayton | [ Reply to This ]

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