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Sunday, July 27, 2014

In the weeds


Hugo Victor


In the weeds* 


Fathers then did all dabble in torture 
and so when I was whisked off for a whack
behind the house as consequence for some
childish hunt for adventure - skinny haunches
shivered with a thrill of the first promised invasion
of my soon to be naked flesh - And so it unfolds - He,
somehow larger than ever, hand circling my puny bicep
And then there we are, alone, in the shallow  impress of that
dip of dandelion studded weeds - a whoosh,  he pulls his belt 
through its loops, the buckle flashes in the fading sunlight -
a slice of his belly exposed for a flash - I see that his eyes
behind his glasses are stained with something irrevocable -
the knowledge that all will shift in seconds between us forever
and as I turn and wordless reach to loosen my britches - his arm
raises - rippled muscles of forearm whip the air beside my ear with
a skill of gentle deceit that neither one of us shall ever reveal as we
wait and then after a measured time walk back to the house our pride
intact -our love hallowed - our shared secret left in the whisper of weeds 
as I lower my eyes and let my shoulders relax under the weight of my unwhacking 

 

~




* this poem is fictional piece about a little boy that came to me from the wordle words it is in no way biographical :)
The Sunday Whirl

19 comments:

  1. What a brave take on love...but a wonderful one..some secrets are best kept in the weeds...

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  2. How could you not love a father who demonstrated his love with non discipline but kept his face.

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  3. Daughter get off lightly! We sons had no such near misses!

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  4. Phew. Wow.
    This is one hell of an intense poem.

    At first, I thought it was a girl's arousal at being whacked, and the deep psychological and sexual scarring that was accompanying it.

    Then, after my stomach churned, and realizing it was a young boy, and that his father did not whack him - wow - the powerful words ultimately lessened, the truth hit home that there was a relenting, and a love, and a secret. But what a thing to go through.

    Wow, again.

    Randy

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  5. Ah, I think it is the tension and the childhood fear leading up to the 'unwhacking' that is all the punishment that one needs. The actual 'belting' is unnecessary. What a loving father this is! And what an effective lesson was taught. I really enjoyed this one, Pearl, as it made me reflect on some of my 'non-spanks' of childhood as well. Smiles.

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  6. I enjoyed the way tension was built and the relief at the end yet wonder why both find it necessary to keep up the pretense.

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  7. Haha - actually meant this to be read from a lil boy's point of view. Good point :)

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  8. Very true statements. Sometimes you just can't do it as a parent and the child knows not to tell.

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  9. Neither of my parents, thank God, ever whacked me this way when I was a child, although I did get a "good" whacking with a wooden paddle from a teacher once.

    My Whirl: “Places”

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  10. I don't think my comment took either - a vivid tale of unconditional love..where some matters of dignity and pride should be let in the weeds

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  11. The tension builds as one waits for the point of impact. "All will shift in seconds between us forever" really hits home - and then the relieved ending. Powerful write, Pearl. Wowzers. I feel as relieved as the child. And, likely, the father.

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  12. Very rich and vivid write Pearl - very well achieved. You capture something here for sure and on lots of levels... Great!

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  13. Things do indeed change in a moment, a whole inner world shifts the view of everything to come.

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  14. Oh the horror it brings in the end the beginning so warma nd beautifull... !

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  15. Felt the tension dissipate as "our shared secret left in the whisper of weeds" (wonderful softness after the harshness of the "dabble in torture".) Loved the "shift in seconds" that this time went the right way. Such a nicely captured father-son moment. Sometimes I am amazed by what is so fluently coming out of you, dear Pearl.

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  16. Scary story for me. I had the belt whacks. Relieved as the story went on that the story stayed non-sexual, that the un-whacking was possible.

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  17. You have created a very vivid picture of this father-son moment, Pearl. I love all the tension and the happy end: good father, lucky son :) I could hear that whoosh, I could see the buckle flashing, his arm raising and then the loving unwhacking. The first line speaks of torture; the last lines distill love, thanks for this poetic lesson! Violence only teaches violence. Well done!
    :)
    (Thanks for your kind visit to my little garden)

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