in consolation

[gurdonark]

When the bell rang, and
we headed out to recess,
we instantly formed two kickball teams
to play our uneven games.

One, perpetually
the kicking team,
had the best kids,
and as to that team,
by acclamation of that team,
in which we all acquiesced,
the rules for strikes and outs
never applied.

Our team, the fielding team,
had to watch, helpless,
while the other team scored,
or called out "doesn't count"
when a kick went astray.
Our innings never ended;
we never came to bat.

I became a perpetual fielder
watching others score.

I still live my life
fielding while others kick,
a simple life of consolation prizes and
quiet, self-sufficient escapes.

Like the boy I used to be, I find
myself still granting the clever kids
the "at bat", finding what comfort I can
in the rather ordinary butterflies
in right field, in the moments
I am not chasing others' kickballs.

Comments

[ex-sinnie785.livejournal.com]

This is really a very lovely poem -- I myself gather great comfort from those right field flutterbies. Thank you for sharing. :)

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

why, thank you, and I wonder if I should have re spun the poem to make the butterflies all that matters, anyway :)

Re:

[ex-sinnie785.livejournal.com]

If you had (made butterflies all that matters) it would have changed the entire flavor of the poem -- as it is, it has a perfect blend of bitter and sweet and is something I can relate to so well.

Then again, I have that side of me that would relate to ignoring everyone else just to watch butterflies.

=( I have more than one personality. Frmph.

I should do stand up in Vegas.

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

I loved that "I have more than one personality. Frmph", but instantly, my mind added the Johnny Carsonesque "but fortunately, my husband has 3".

[http://users.livejournal.com/_riomaggiore/]

eventhough one may have the timidity of feeling like a "right-fielder," you by no means sound like one. your talents seem broad. your inquisitivesness and expression sound confident. your interests sound like ones of exploration and creativity, i.e. the poem(s). the memories of the past seem to brand who we think we are and how we think we come across to others. to me, you sound like a guy who has his feet planted firmly (we all have doubts, you know) on the ground and willing to take chances to grow. what more can one ask for? by the way, what's wrong with being on the team with all odds against it? that's my favorite place to be. thanks for sharring.

[voodoukween.livejournal.com]

i'll field, you kick

:)

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

Very kind of you!

yes...

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

I agree with you--memories of the past brand who we think we are. I think it's really important to shake off as much of one's childhood as one can.
Perhaps one way to try is to set up that childhood as a construct or an image--to recognize the danger of living in that past. I think this is a first step to starting something new, instead of just living out our inherited family melodrama.

I always played right field, but largely because I was an excellent outfielder with an imperfect arm.
In baseball, I tended to hit well; but in second grade kickball, things went just as in the poem.
My goal, though, as to put together an image, and
then "trap" a protagonist in the image.

I always prefer the underdog, the underground, and the underneath. I guess we share that trait.

Thanks very much for commenting.