This poem won't hurt anybody!

11/8/2010

Even though I am old and in the way,
Riding on a board I will forever stay.

You can all me mongo, you can call me dude.
I shut up and ride and never sued!

As a young child I was very "amused",
All of my toys were greatly abused.

It wasn't neglect or lack of respect,
I played hard with toys, what'd you expect?

A pogo stick entertained for a while,
"Jump off the roof", if you think you have style.

Falling down and getting hurt?
Get back up and wipe off the dirt.

Going outside as a kid to play,
Was so much different, back in the day.

Toys that we had, they rarely broke,
The scars they caused? That was no joke!

Near death experiences happened every day,
I saw no problem but my mom went grey.

So, blog me a story, of you as a kid,
The games you made up and the stuff that you did.

Thanks,
uncletom

1 Comment

Kat Crane link

4/6/2011 07:16:14

Memories of the Sixties

Having been born in nineteen-fifty-seven,
it’s a miracle that my childhood toys
didn’t flat-out kill me and send me to heaven.

The “wood-burning set” with which we took turns
was an exposed electrical element
that gave me several burns.

Making Creepy Crawlers was the best fun in town . . .
until you left the “thingmaker” plugged-in
and burned the house down.

Similarly incendiary was the Easy Bake Oven!
We blistered our fingers
while manufacturing a dime-sized muffin.

Of course Grandma let us play with Jarts:
fun stainless steel projectiles,
that could pierce a man’s heart.

The neighbor kids had a “Slip & Slide.”
We’d glide over rocks and concrete
until somebody cried.

Iron was used to make “monkey bars” . . .
and we played baseball in the street,
while dodging oncoming cars!

I’d say Ralph Nader’s about my age . . .
it’s no wonder “toy safety”
sends him into a rage!

He probably still has the scars (like I do)
from playing with “sparklers,”
and pogo sticks, too.

We biked and skated on hard concrete.
Helmets were not invented when
our gang popped “wheelies” in the street!

Knocked out teeth and broken bones
were considered normal
for a kid in our home.

“What doesn’t kill them makes them stronger”
must have been the mantra
of the nineteen-sixties mother!

BB guns, “caps,” toxic model glue,
stilts and spring-shoes
are on my favorite toy list, too.

But I close by noting that the toy that was the best,
was the bottle of mercury
from my chemistry set!

With that liquid metal we played for days.
Did it make us go mad?
Perhaps . . . but we kind of like being this way!

Copyright © Kat Crane 2011
www.katcrane.com

This poem won't hurt anybody!

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Uncle Tom

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