White socks
Posted: 22 January 2006
Word Count: 170
Summary: Confessional - my attempt.
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Mummy and Daddy were so near,
just through the door.
Just through the door
from that back kitchen
to the front room
with its tiny diagonal
glazed entrance.
The front room
where they sat; Daddy's friend,
a workmate, and his wife.
But then there was
their son.
A man who seemed so old
with oily hair
and white nylon socks
with black shoes.
In the distance they chatted,
laughed away the afternoon
while a ten-year-old marched
and swung her arms
and jumped up and down
and, when instructed,
leaned over a table.
"For a ten-year-old,
for a ten-year-old"
she was a big girl.
She knew
because he told her.
He knew
because he felt her.
Cupped her child's breasts
in his work-rough hands
until she felt the stirrings
which were not yet hers to know.
Even now
decades later
white socks
with black shoes
make her cringe and look away
but cause her thighs to ache with longing.
Ever since,
Mummy and Daddy
have been just a little
further away.
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Comments by other Members
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 Shika at 08:47 on 23 January 2006
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Nasty images, I don't even want to know if it is true. I have a doubt as to why the parents didn't know but in cases like this parents don't know or don't want to know. I also thought the bit about the stirrings ran true because that is the source of guilt for many sex abuse victims. I think this works well although I am recoiling from it too. S
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 Nell at 09:36 on 23 January 2006
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Joanie, this is so good. As with Paul's poem, the only reason I might question it is because it's part of an exercise on truth or confession. The details are sharp and exact, just the sort of things that stick in the mind's eye. The language is simple, childlike, as if the speaker is reverting to her earlier self in the telling. The repetition works brilliantly, gives a halting feeling to the narrative. Even the third person seems to be the speaker's way of distancing herself from the event/s. I questioned the slippage into his POV, but somehow I think it works. And as Shika says, the stirrings make this very true, very worrying (a whole new debate about author responsibility rears its head), and make me think that if this actual incident isn't then perhaps there's another you're not admitting to.
A brilliant response. I think we're all learning so much from this, painful as it is, because in a way the poem becomes a sort of truth/experience in the writing.
Nell.
<Added>
Forgot to say that the ending, referring back to the beginning, making a circle, is excellent.
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paul53 [for I am he] at 11:30 on 23 January 2006
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Excellent. And Brave. The repetition of "just through the door" works so well. In terms of abuse and Man's inhumanity to Man, the closed door has a lot to answer for.
What a picture with so few words:seemed so old
with oily hair
and white nylon socks
with black shoes |
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I would say straight away that this is true, but I've read enough of your poetry to know you are quitely masterful in your craft.
Paul
<Added>
or even "quietly masterful" [mistressful didn't sound right]
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 joanie at 13:15 on 23 January 2006
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Nell and Paul, thank you for your thoughts. This exercise is very interesting, isn't it? As I re-read this, having looked at your responses, I can see that the man's POV in the middle part might jar a bit. I'm happy with the third person for the reasons you suggest, Nell; I don't think the first person would be as effective.
Thanks.
joanie
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DJC at 14:07 on 23 January 2006
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Wow - another brave and moving poem. This exercise has really brought a lot out into the open, which can only be a good thing when writing poetry. I think we've all learned a lot through this.
The only tiny change I would make is to change 'farther' to 'further', as it fits more in with the simple, almost conversational style of the poem. Really impressive work.
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joanie at 15:11 on 23 January 2006
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Thanks for that very full response, fevvers, which I need time to take in and respond to. I'm going to look at the link, too. I'll be back!
joanie
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 Elsie at 16:56 on 23 January 2006
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Hi joanie, this felt very real to me - especially, as others have mentioned, the guilt of feeling 'stirrings'. Although it is written in the 3rd person, it felt like first, for some reason - I think Nell hits the nail on the head that it as if it's a way of distancing from something hard to talk/write about.
[quote] while a ten-year-old marched
and swung her arms
and jumped up and down
and, when instructed,
leaned over a table.[/unquote] is detail that seems very real, and very disturbing.
<Added>
Oops, out of practice with the quote thingy!
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joanie at 18:14 on 23 January 2006
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Thanks, Elsie. I'm glad you think the third person works. I'm looking forward to reading yours before long - just dashing out at the moment.
joanie
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joanie at 18:16 on 23 January 2006
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Hi Darren! I typed a reply to you ages ago and have just realised that it hasn't uploaded. Thanks for reading and for your positive comments. I actually originally wrote 'further' then changed it! It's back now.
Thanks
joanie
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Xenny at 19:48 on 23 January 2006
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Hey there
I thought this was good. I didn't find it so easy to read and maybe this itself says it's well done. One of the bits I found best was the idea of the image of black shoes and white socks staying with her to make her cringe when she sees them.
Also - "A man who seemed so old". I thought that was just brilliant and accurate.
Thanks x
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gard at 23:51 on 23 January 2006
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Hi Joanie
I too felt this hard to read and felt myself cringe at the image of the fifth verse. Your excercise does have a poetic rhythm to it especially with the repetitions and the form.
Very disturbing yet great piece
G
I read the poem that Fevvers recommended to you and I thought that was a lovely piece too.
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joanie at 12:22 on 24 January 2006
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Xenny and Gard, thank you for reading and resposnding - much appreciated!
joanie
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joanie at 17:54 on 24 January 2006
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Hi fevvers. I have read your comments several times and will try to respond... You have asked questions....
Who is the narrator? Well, me, basically, but it was easier in the third person because I now feel like I am someone observing.
Who is the narrator talking to? WW - fellow scribes who are usually sympathetic and because it was an exercise, to be honest! BUT - because of the exercise, the wider audience, anyone who wants to listen.
Why is the form like this? Because whenever I think about this one-off incident, I remember it as it was. I am looking back, an adult, but remembering the feelings I had at the time. My thoughts are voiced like this, I think.
More specifically, I really don't remember any physical feelings of the wood on my ribs, etc., as you suggest. I remember distinctly "Lean over the table."
To sum up, purely because of the exercise, I am wary of 'inventing' my feelings. This is how it was.
If I choose to re-think, to re-write a poem which is more correct (not the right word but you know what I mean, I think) I would not be true to my memory. I think this has been a very personal experience. I would never have chosen to write this as a poem to submit to anywhere!
I really do appreciate your very thoughtful and lengthy response. This is a difficult one, I think!
Very many thanks.
joanie
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Mac AM at 18:44 on 24 January 2006
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Even though this seems to start off innocently, there is some thing sinister in the nearness of Mummy and Daddy – the threat of not being close enough. I think you unwrap the details really well, leaving the reader to make the jump, for their imagination to make the connections and chill themselves with the recollection of what this is about.
Mac
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