musings on the differences inherent in my prose and poetry descriptions
|SELF-PROCLAIMED RULER OF THE YARD!
As a happy, cherished little girl, the adopted only child of an older couple, I was aware that I RULED my back yard. With my squeaky metal swingset, my huge pink sandbox, easily the size of a double bed, and my little pioneer fort just waiting for the Indian invasion, I was set! I was in control!
SELF-PROCLAIMED RULER OF THE YARD--
a jump-rope hai-5
to be chanted while jumping rope
of the yard in my control!
Squeaking metal swings!
Squeaking metal swings
screech along with rusted chains;
make my hands rusty!
Make my hands rusty;
wipe them off in pink sandbox.
Then go play in fort!
Then go play in fort;
dinner beef is huge stone roast
fit for pioneers.
Fit for pioneers
living in my childhood yard--
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My prose description tends to be rather a stream-of-consciousness paragraph in which I reminisced freely and with emotion about my old haunts. No structure of thought was required, and none is found! When I translated these rambling thoughts to a structured poem, admittedly one of my own design, the format was more prescribed and less free. Because I intended the poem to have a sort of distinctive, rhythmic cadence, it has sort of a beat fit for a jump-rope jingle. That was my intent! It is a sort of a rap; an ode to my young world. I sort of visualize the poem as being a grown-up and disciplined version of me, traipsing through the yard with my stone roast in hand. I really did have an old rock which was shaped exactly like the roasts my mom fixed for Sunday dinner back in those halcyon days!! It looked too tough to eat, no matter how hard I "cooked" it!