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REAR RUB

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Below is the poem entitled REAR RUB which was written by poet Daniel Cwiak. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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REAR RUB

There comes a time when we all begin 
  to challenge the authority above.
Whilst we may know that we committed a sin
  they still discipline us because of their love.

I remember just such a time
  when Mom was the challengee and I was the challenger.
It was freezing and to be outside was a crime
   yet, when she wasn't looking, I secreted myself out the door.

Of course the S_ _ _  hit the fan
  as she saw me bundled up out there.
Window raised she called out, "DAN!"
  enough to give me a scare.

In those days the timeout was nonexistent
  and the corporal would be felt.
But the length and means of its extent
  I would only know as she wielded that belt.

Like a windmill turning in great arcs afield
  my little frame seemed to go.
Trying to get away from that swatting wield
  was all I wanted to know!

"YES, MOTHER!  YES, MOTHER!  YES, MOTHER!"
  was all that I could say.
Hoping against hope that she wouldn't tell father
  when he came home at the end of his day.

This is one of the darkest memories
  that I've had since I was about four.
Sometimes I think about those strokes that stung like bees
  because I had sneaked out that door.

Yet, it was a mother's love for me
  that prompted her disciple so severe.
As I have grown older the why I could see...
  and sometimes still rub my rear!

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  1. Date: 6/25/2011 10:54:00 AM

    Hi Dan, I've felt that sting too. A wonderful write on the passage of childhood.

  1. Date: 2/10/2011 2:57:00 PM

    hehehe....That is an awesome write! Reminds me of my younger days as well, although mom didn't worry me to awful much but I let her think it did because if not she would make sure it did when dad came home, and I couldn't sit down for weeks when he had his way. Thanks for sharing, best wishes~virginia

  1. Date: 2/6/2011 5:26:00 PM

    Congratulations on your win in the contest.

  1. Date: 1/24/2011 4:24:00 AM

    Congratulations on your win Dan C in the contest "My Darkest Childhood Memory"sponsored by Walayee (Lay). Love, Carol

  1. Date: 1/23/2011 7:02:00 AM

    so well scribed, daniel!; one big THUMBS UP to you! :) hugggs, nette

  1. Date: 1/23/2011 5:46:00 AM

    Hi Daniel - Congratulations on your WIN in Walayee's contest. Best wishes, KC

  1. Date: 1/22/2011 3:23:00 PM

    Congratulations on the well deserved win in the contest, Daniel

  1. Date: 1/22/2011 1:38:00 PM

    Congratulations on your win...Sara

  1. Date: 1/22/2011 1:34:00 PM

    Congrats Dan on another big win in Lay's contest with this exceptional entry and write luv.. enjoy your chart topping success with luv my friend..

  1. Date: 1/22/2011 12:38:00 PM

    This poem was mesmerizing, Daniel. My parents didn't weild the belt and I may have gotten "spanked" lightly once or twice. Today this would be considered child abuse. I'm sorry I missed this earlier, but so glad I had the chance to read it now. Congratulations on your win in the contest, my friend. Love, Carolyn

  1. Date: 1/22/2011 12:25:00 PM

    LOL.. I'm laughing at the last line! I feel for little Dan, but Mama knows best.. Congratulations on your fine win in Lay's "My Darkest Memory Contest" Always, Annalise

  1. Date: 1/22/2011 11:59:00 AM

    Hehe, you sure turned out to be a fine gentleman so that rear rub's had a great effect on you Dan ;) congratulations on your win in Lay's contest.. love Wilma

  1. Date: 1/10/2011 4:46:00 PM

    This is really really cute. I much enjoyed and hope it gets high marks in the contest!! Luv, Andrea

  1. Date: 1/5/2011 5:36:00 PM

    Discipline was dealt with in a different manner in those days....but it took effect, more often than not!! Sometimes that swat did me a lot of good!! (I too sometimes still rub my rear,....and say thanks for the lesson!!) :)

  1. Date: 1/5/2011 4:45:00 PM

    Hummm! the authority above, sure makes me think.. of a certain memory... enjoyed your poem,,.p.d.