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Open Poetry #41
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The Chalkboard
| Open Poetry #41 |
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The Chalkboard |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas 
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Written for my daugher a number of years ago when her and her friends still lived on it. Now, although they still mark on it in passing, it seldom see's the worlds it saw way back then. But Lisa came across this piece "cleaning" MY ROOM and asked me to post it on piptalk again. So for her and all the kids, boys and girls, that wore holes in my hallway carpet while playing on those two chalkboards hanging on the wall, and for all the cookie crumbs, popcorn and strawberry and peanut butter sandwiches dropped and permanently mashed into that carpet....here it is Lisa, as requested. ~~~ The Chalkboard When I was a toddler, a crawling-walker, always looking up from way down there, my dad put a chalkboard on the wall. I had to stand up to reach it but I dearly loved putting my colored marks on it’s green face. I’d spend hours just scratching, and covering, then using my hands, sometimes my tongue, somehow my hair; I’d rub it all off and all over me. I later learned those hours, so wonderfully spent, were fifteen or twenty mommy minutes. And mommy; she so dutifully wiped off all the pinks, blues, whites and greens I’d worked so hard to acquire. Sometimes I’d cry when she did because I wasn’t ready to be just plain, toddler colored me again. I wanted to stand out, be a flash of color, a living rainbow, as I ran around the house. Sometimes she would let me - and I’d grab dog’s tail and crawl-walk from room to room, a multi-hued, chubby grub from which dog kept trying to walk away. I loved dog too. When I was too old to toddle, adolescence I guess, the chalkboard had become a real mainstay in my life. It was still the bearer of my many scribbles, but it had also taken on periodic coats of real art. I’d gotten really good at drawing people, you know, a big round head, stick body and legs; and I even understood gender now, with a triangle skirt for my stick girls, and hair on the round head. And real words appeared, much to my amazement, under the end of the chalk. Words that even meant something to other people. But I still saved some for me, some that only I could decipher, like psygimitgeed; mommy could be psygimitgeed, daddy couldn’t; which meant I could sucker mommy into things, daddy was a lot harder, meaner. And then I turned thirteen, and this chalkboard which all these years was something for me and my friends to play on, suddenly became the place to meet. Cryptic notes, phone numbers, doodles, and of course initial filled hearts would magically appear. Love, hate, friendship, sorrow and wondrous happiness all made their mark; many hands spoke and drew, in pastel colors, on my chalkboard, this living, constantly changing, diary of many lives. I’m an adult now, nineteen, a woman, and I still pass that chalkboard on the wall, in the hallway. Mostly it’s empty now, the only constant being my cell phone number; but occasionally, every now and then, something magically appears; a note, a phone number, something silly, or my favorite – I love you. That chalkboard, such an integral part of me for so many years, just hangs there, it’s green face waiting, waiting for a splash of color from the nubby pieces of chalk still sitting in the bucket below with two much used erasers that are almost as old as me. It waits with the patience of a chalkboard, for the child in us all, for the children I’ll one day bear, for the loving touch of scratches, scrawls, drawings and words. It’s just a chalkboard, just a chalkboard, but my, the wonders it has seen. w. james beard, jr. © December 2000 Update: My grand daugher, 5 years, say's it no longer belongs to Lisa. It belongs to Ryleigh ! And so life goes on ... a new spring has arrived. |
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| © Copyright 2007 Wesley James Beard, Jr. - All Rights Reserved | |||
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ThisDiamond Member Rara Avis
since 2002-02-22
Posts 9353Michigan, USA |
Thoroughly enjoyed this one Jimmy. Thanks so much for sharing it.  |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
Jimmy, every family should have a chalkboard such as this!!!  What a beautiful story it is that you have shared with your readers. This was VERY special! Love to you and your loved ones! Linda  |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
Jimmy, this was sheer understanding...very well done...and heartfelt...you are definately in tune with awareness.... Hugs to ya Lee J. |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Wonderful...James |
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Paul Wilson
since 2002-07-07
Posts 4711United States |
James...What a wonderful tender write. A chalkboard of memories some past others still to be written on it's face of green...Paul ~~To share my poems with you is to share my heart with you~~ |
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aziza Member Elite
since 2006-07-09
Posts 2995Lumpy Oatmeal makes me Crazy! |
You made me smile. And, in my opinion, that makes the best poem. Thank you for the magic that you write of and the magic that you light in my soul. Alison |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Thank you for sharing this again, it is precious. This Chalkboard holds family history and your words give it new life. A very intense piece. Absolutely beautiful. Love, Margherita |
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