Poets Salon: Childhood Memories

POETS SALON

– 9/18/19

Hosted by Kath Abela Wilson

It was a family stew. My Maltese grandmother was the head of cabbage. She hardly cooked anymore but left her rocker for this. She insisted on a hambone. The soup was “minestra”. No pasta needed. Simmer gold onions, olive oil, chunks of pumpkin, squash, garlic, oregano, salt, pepper, parsley and thyme. Better the day after. My father was a fava, mother a cauliflower, the kids red beans. I, the oldest, was grated parmesan stirring it up at the end. If you’re vegetarian don’t tell nana just leave out the ham. Add a little more of me, and extra pepper, sprinkled fresh to taste.

family picnic
the salad
too big for the bowl

~ Kath Abela

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Sunset Cattails, Pastel Nagomi Art by Christina Sng

Christina Sng

My Happiest Childhood Memory

Dad and I
on a double decker bus
on the way to ride bumper cars

my happiest childhood memory
I tell him, holding his hand
by his hospital bed as we wait

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all the secrets
hopes and dreams
I shared with you
childhood lovey
still with me

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always home by 5
not a word in sight
plonked onto the couch
pop and I watch football
peanuts in mouth

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only when I was sick
could I sip 7-up
from an a&w straw
and curl up to sleep
beside dad and mom

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mom always read me
a story before I slept

before the monsters
under the bed emerged
to rear their ugly heads

I kept safe
by carefully tucking myself
inside my blanket

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shadows aren’t
so scary after all

they remind you
you’re alive and strong

especially when
you’re still small

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Ioxora flower (a bee’s breakfast) (Photo – Gillena Cox)

Gillena Cox

One day, a child enters my home. We are meeting each other for the first time. He asks “do you have a TV?” I answer “no, only toys and books.” An aura of love enlightens this child, so he walks in with trust and selects the toys he wants. I unfold and set up a table for him. He chooses a stool high enough. I sit on a bench. And we start to mold plasterscene according to his little God mind. Creation. When time to leave, its raining so I hold an opened umbrella over him, as he climbs into his dad’s car. “Bye, get home safely.”

next day

created and stored
orange tints in azure sky
early morning light

contemplating paradise
birds in formation fly by

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I use my kitchen shears
to clip ixora blooms
I place them in a bowl of water

what i have brought
to my table really
is a bee’s breakfast

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the cakes are beautiful
they all want to take photos
boys as well as girls

even more beautiful
she in her mermaid costume

eating her slice of birthday cake

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Prickly pear cactus photo art by Pat Geyer

Pat Geyer

printed page
waving with age…
capesante*

yellow cacti
still pricks my heart…
I remember
the path to the house
where my happiness once grew

mom’s recipe
turning yellow now with age…
tarta de maize*

*scallops
*corn pudding

My mother, who loved to cook, planted prickly pear cactus up and down the path to the house where we lived. As we cooked and baked, we’d often take a moment to look out the window at the yellow “pears”. When I moved into my own house I tried to transplant a few. Sadly, the cactus didn’t take. Happily, I still use all her recipes.

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Carousel giraffe – 1890, from Pasadena Museum of History’s exhibit on view till Oct 13 (Photo – Kath Abela Wilson)

Sigrid Saradunn

The circus arrived by train in Northern Wisconsin. I can still see elephants helped do the heavy work. The fierce look on horses faces didn’t appeal to me. I’d enjoy the ride listening, enjoying the calliope music.

A friend’s husband treasured the old craftsmanship restoring in his home by the ocean, the treasures of the past. I learned to appreciate the stories behind the different styles.

carousel

horses with wooden teeth
their scary grimace frightened me

graceful and sleek giraffe stole my heart
’round and ’round we’d go til time to leave
mesmerizing music remembered to this day

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Into the Woods Digital Ink art by Christina Sng

Childhood Memories: Quotes and Credits

Christina Sng is an award-winning poet and artist who lives in Singapore. She draws strength from happy childhood memories to endure the tribulations of her life, and finds peace in painting and writing. Her book, A Collection of Nightmares, won the Bram Stoker Award in 2018. Forthcoming in 2020 is its follow up, A Collection of Dreamscapes.

Gillena Cox lives in Trinidad, one of the twin islands of The Republic of Trinidad and Tobago. She’s a retired Library Assistant, mother, and grandmother. She has published six books through Authorhouse. Gillena says: “I love my online connections in poetry groups and blogs.”

Pat Geyer lives in East Brunswick, NJ, USA. Her home is surrounded by parks and lakes, palaces to find the scents and sometimes tastes of life and living. Published in several journals, she’s an amateur photographer and poet.

Sigrid Saradunn says: ”Down East Maine, where I live now, reminds me so much of Northern Wisconsin where I lived until I was ten. Grand-Dad’s Bluff, on Bliss Road, is in La Crosse, WI, on the Mississippi, six miles from where my grandparents lived and I can still remember looking out. Times were different then. We could roam and play all day. You may not not lucky to have been a child when I was or old enough to remember back in the day of summer fun for children. Take a step back in time and see what you remember from your childhood days of summer.”

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♣ A note from Kath Abela:

> My introductory haibun was originally inspired by a call for family stories… by Zee Zahava in Ithaca New York. Please, poets, send some poems and stories soon, to Kath Abela about your childhood dolls and toys. (email to poetsonsite[at]gmail.com) for an upcoming feature! Include photos or paintings of your dolls if possible, and little stories (haibun, etc) and bios that reference your childhood dolls. Try to wait 6 months from your last appearance in our Poets Salon.  > Sigrid concludes her story, Gillena, and Christina also, highlight their memories with the six-line short story form called a cherita.  > A historical carousel exhibit is on view at the Pasadena Museum of History until Oct 13, 2019. Please see it before it disappears!

> We welcome and encourage your response, especially in the form of a short poem, by leaving a comment below.

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