Get Your Premium Membership

Memories of a City Child

Poet's Notes
(Show)

Become a Premium Member and post notes and photos about your poem like Val Brooklyn Rogers Blk Panther.


This poem is total  fiction.  I can't  dance.  I have no  twin  cousins  about my age.  But

My mother is a nurse.  

Writing about daisies roses rainbows and waterfalls helped me Escape the madness of the city LIFE. The JUNGLE. Whenever I wished to return I laid my pen down and Anticipated the next siren. So... I laid back and reminisced for most of the day. Now, time for Concrete and asphalt. Cement and metal fire escapes. I Screamed more times than not with every passing siren. I wanted to admire the faults in the pavement close up. I Missed NEW YORK when I stayed half the Summer at my Aunt's place in Brunswick, Georgia. So I've been away for A while, just My style. In this aisle! That's my CHILD! My mother screamed in the Local SUPERMARKET with her thick Caribbean accent. It seemed As though her voice boomed through every aisle in the Market. She would search the security monitors when ever I Wasn't at her side. YEAH, I'm pretty regular now. Not versatile anymore at all. I dance SMALL. EXQUISITE. I've had about enough of This. O.k let me entertain you." I'll put. On a skit." Then I said " I know. Look out of the window. I'm going down Stairs to dance barefoot!!" If you danced barefoot You're sure to Gather a huge crowd. "I HOPE they throw money at me." Dressed in Jean shorts and a new green T-shirt, she Pursued her money making scheme. I was thankful for that summer. 9 years old and bored in NYC. IT'S only a matter of time before I found trouble. Little child running WILD with brick feet. I had to get their attention. "This here Is about to be a TREAT!!" A teenager had a boom box with him. "Hey yeah, that sounds nice. Turn that up" He increased the volume as high as the sky. She tapped her feet listening for the beat. A slightly raised portion of the stoop was her stage. Before anyone knew it she whipped the crowd with The NAE NAE for at least 8 to 10 minutes and the Crowd grew as they oohed and aahed. Someone in the crowd asked her what her name was. "Licia." She smiled breathlessly. "My name's Licia", she repeated. They responded just as she hoped they would. They threw money at her. Yeah! She danced more and heard the excitement of her cousins Racing down the stairs to her aid. That was fly LICIA. No one ever called her Val, her first name. FANTASTIC!! When ever we. Needed money all we had to do was dance. Sometimes my identical twin cousins Damian and Dezrah joined me. That was a little adventure. THEY bounded the stairs swiftly, anxious for an accurate count. That was it she had a rep now. Her three cousins cheered her as they entered the Apartment still the only ones home. She lived with her mother. A nurse at the local Hospital. She wouldn't be home until twelve tonight. The four of them sat on the bed counting what looked A bit like bank robbery stash. It was $137 and 50¢

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs