Throwback Thursday #7 School Daze.

Throwback Thursday Memory Blog

Caution this is not a fun blog post but it’s a true one from my heart.

Maggie is our hostess this week as she alternates with Lauren for the Throwback Thursday/ I Remember When series. 
This week’s prompt is: School Memories – Take this prompt wherever it leads you. Here are some suggestions to consider.

Who was your favorite teacher? What about your worst? Were you a member of any clubs? Did you attend homecoming or the prom? What was your favorite subject? Were you the perfect student or a troublemaker? What clothes were in style when you were in school? How did you get to school? Bus, walk, drive? Any extracurricular activities? What did you do for lunch? Did you attend football games or other sports? Did you attend school when corporal punishment was applied? Have a school photo you wish to share?

I wrote this poem on abuse at school by piers and teachers, in 2012. It  is personal and I am not afraid to say so. My school days were among the worst days of my life. I was lucky in a way as there was no internet in my day, once I was home I was more or less safe.

It can be even worse these days as there is now cyber bullying so the poor victim cannot get away from it unless they cut themselves off completely from the modern appliances. In fact some people are Tolled after their death and so it is their family that carry on receiving the bullying.

It is abuse it should be stopped but the schools do not seem to be able to stop it !

It’s nothing less than abuse.

Rounded shoulders head hung down

Rounded shoulders head hung down why do they all make fun of me I am not a clown. Sitting in the row spiteful girls stick their pens in my legs. Teacher at the front she must never know, she wouldn’t help she treats me like dregs.

Photo by RODNAE Productions on Pexels.com

Following me nearly home, calling me mean names,in the playground I always stand alone they don’t pick me for their games. Opening my desk finding it’s been trashed , my text book been drawn in and my favourite doll has been  smashed.

Mum tried her hardest but being the youngest of six my things did not get replaced they just got fixed. My plimsolls were the wrong colour they were black instead of white , I was hauled up on the stage, lectured in front of the school then had to stay on late that night. I just could not make it I could not win with staff and girls against me all I could do was just give in.

I met my boyfriend, and his friends did not like me because I spoke differently, I was from the posh school.  They though I was rich, I was not I was just like them it would of made no  difference if I’d let them know. When we  were out or at a party they were pleasant to my face but if my guy was not there and behind my back the things they said were just a disgrace. They joined the line of teachers and my piers it makes me wonder now how I stood it for all those years.

I am not saying I no friends, no that would not be true. I did have friends and they were good   but they were the very few. I always felt so ugly, too fat and too short and if anyone was nice to me I could not believe it. What do they want was my first thought.

Things got better when I started work I seemed to come out of my shell like a little butterfly I changed and put aside my days of living hell. They tell you, you don’t  realize that school days are the best days of your life , thank God I never listened or I would of ended mine with a knife.

Thank God I grew away from all the pain  but sometimes I see a face  hear a voice or a name and it all floods back again. I am older now and have all that I could ask for, family and friends but sometimes my calm deserts me and confidence takes flight,  fear and dark descends and I feel lost in the night. I ask the question now why children’s jibes and actions  can be so mean and cruel. The worse days of my life were my years at school. I cry each time I read or hear on the news how children can hurt each other IT NOTHING LESS THAN ABUSE.

Memories.

image from here.

Memories.

They  wriggle  and they giggle  and they run and hide

You know them all, you’re the one who put them inside.

They hint  and they suggest,  they rub around the edge

You have to keep them active for absence of them turns  your mind to veg.

They are beautiful  and ugly , huge and very small

They are  full of importance and yet  they have none at all.

Warm and soft  and fluffy , scary  , evil  and terrifying

Having  a birthday party or turbulence while flying.

Having  your  first baby  or your wedding day

But  when you have to remember them, they’ve often flown away 

Dancing with your first love  kissing him goodnight

Arguing  with your family  .. boy that was an almighty  fight !

Fighting off depression, facing down your fears

Memories dancing  and prancing, escaping  through your ears.

Your first teddy’s name was Jingles your first job was blast

If  you let  your  memories run  it’s like  a film with a giant cast!

You  need to keep it active  you cannot let it rest

For if you do not use it deserts you and that is not for the best.

Watch it  very  carefully be aware of the tricks it plays on  you

You must keep it buzzing or it will wonder off into the blue.

They  wriggle  and they giggle  and they run and hide

But  you know that they are in there, you’re the one who put them inside.

They hint  and they suggest,  they rub around the edge

You have to keep them active for absence of them turns  your mind to veg.

#TANKA TUESDAY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 233, #POET’SCHOICE

WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY

For this challenge, you can write your poem in any syllabic form you’d like to try.

Ruby © willowdot21.

old am I
my dreams let me fly
know no bounds.

For Colleen’s Tuesday Tanka Challenge I have chosen to do a short haiku. 3/5/3.

pensitivity101’s 3TC, #threethingschallenge

Di at pensitivity101 said : “Welcome to The Three Things Challenge.
Below are three things that may, or may not, be related. Simply read the prompt and see where your creativity takes you.
You can use one, two or all three words in your post, there are no restrictions regarding length, style, or genre apart from keeping it family friendly.
You can use 3TC, #threethingschallenge or TTC as a tag and my logo if you wish.

Charlie’s dead
Prune your petticoat
Hide that slip
Only Jessabels
Show their underwear.

I saw the words today and immediately thought of my mum, she had a horror of any of us girls showing our underwear. She often referred to our petticoats as slips and often would say, “Hold on Charlie’s dead.”

I wrote a little Tanka in the shortened disapline of 3/5/3/5/5.

I believe the origin of the saying comes the time after King Charles ( a very snazzy and frilly dresser) was dead. The Puritans made everyone dress very plain and somberly… Frills and furbelows were frowned on. Hence if your pretty petticoat was showing you were a wanton hussy! So there you have it. “Charlie’s dead”

#writephoto : The Beach.

Welcome to the weekly #writephoto prompt!

It is Thursday afternoon and time for KL’s photo prompt. As KL says it’s June, the weather has decided to be kind and we are slowly coming out of lockdown. Many people are thinking of Summer holidays and the beach.

So, what does the beach mean to you, your characters or your childhood memories?

For visually challenged writersthe image shows 2 large pairs of wellies and a child pair of wellies on a sandy beach.

At the Beach – Image by KL Caley.

Mummy, Dad and me
In our wellies on the sand
Windy but we are grand
Happy times for us to play
I’ll remember all my days.

Mum and Dad took us all to the beach every year.There were six of us, and it was always special. Dad used to roll his trousers up and take us in the sea . We used to play games, eat cockles and skim stones .

We have sat on beaches with the children and been frozen! We have sat on beaches and fried. We have travelled abroad and at home but of all the beaches we have visited it the ones with the children that have been the best.

Rain or cold never worried us we had kagools and wellies! Today I have lots of memories to look back on. Freezing at Bournemouth while the boys played happily in the sand followed by hot chocolate. Getting burned in Zanté with the lads, older splashing out in the sea cold beers all round later.

Climbing the rocks and fishing in the rock pool what delights we would find. Then there is the Dorset coast where we could find lots of fossils and make up all sorts of stories about the animals that where now dead and trapped in the rocks.

Best of all was skimming stones, we all loved doing this and whiled away many an hour at the beach. Now I see our grandchildren doing the same . Happy Days.

©hotpinkwellingtons.

KL Caley at Novel Ideas has offered to take on Sue Vincent’s #writephoto weekly challenge now Sue has moved on to a higher plain.

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS May 8, 2021

Badge by Shelley Krupa.

It is Saturday and time for Stream of Consciousness Saturday. LindaGHill said :Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “to your left.” When you sit down to write your post, look to your left. What is the thing closest to you? Write about the memories that thing induces. Enjoy!

To my left is my hubby! What can I say, there are so many memories. I have known him 54 years through thick and thin we will of been married 50yrs this August. So how did we meet?

l was thirteen and my friend Anne was fourteen and she’d heard of youth club in Ealing. One evening I met this very handsome guy with blond hair and brown eyes. The rest as they say is history. We went from strength ups and downs but we are still standing!

#TANKA TUESDAY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 224, #POET’SCHOICE

WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY

It’s the first of the month and you know what that means! Word Crafters, choose your own syllabic poetry form, theme, words, images, etc. It’s up to you! This opportunity only happens once a month!

Follow the schedule listed below:

I have chosen a Gogyohka this week. I have written two verses about the Lilly of the Valley and how it reminds me of my father.

© willowdot21.

Lilly of the Valley.

Spring’s harbinger
Memory stirs
Such scent
Fills my kitchen
And my soul.

Father would toil
Hands in soil
You his pride and joy
Green and white
My joy now.

🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

Finally News of Colleen’s big dream journal.

The countdown is on to May 15, 2021, when the Word Weaving Poetry Journal reveals the theme for this first edition journal. Mark your calendars! Submissions open May 15th through July 15th. Learn more HERE!

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS May 1, 2021

Badge by Shelley Krupa.

Hi it’s Saturday and time for LindaGHill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday. #SoCs. This week Linda said : Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “may.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

The May Day Possession.

May Day, I am carrying Dad’s Lilley of the Valley, a huge bunch. They smell absolutely beautiful. The sky is so blue and there are puffy little clouds floating around.

I am wearing my summer school uniform, so I am still in the junior part of the school. A powder blue pleated dress, a wide yolk at the front topped with a white collar. At the waste a belt that joins buttons at front. My blonde hair is in neat plaits, but as usual the unruly whisps are escaping around my face….that will get me scolded by the nuns. On top of my head is my straw Panama hat with the school badge. I have fresh white knee length socks and my sensible brown sandals.

I walk the two miles to school so proud of Dad’s flowers. Sister Margarite is waiting at the gate, she tells me off because my socks are not quite up to my knees and my unruly hair. I was never in her good books…she always had something to scold me for.

Today though I did not let her upset me, it was the first school Monday in May and time for the May day possession. The statue of Our Lady, Queen of the May was to be carried from the gate at the junior’s part of the school around the roads to the front of the senior school and through to the front lawn outside the main convent house.

I was always so proud because Dad’s flowers were used to decorate the statue’s head with a crown of Lilly of the Valley. The statue was carried on a plinth by four girls, and we all processed, some infront of the Virgin Queen of the May and the rest behind scattering petals on to the road and singing hymns to the Virgin Mary. How ever hard I tried to be good, try as I may, I was never picked to be a barer of the statue.

And here is the hymn we sang.

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS April 3, 2021. Who/ Whom.

Badge by Shelley Krupa.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “start with who/whom” Begin your post with either “who” or “whom” and go from there. Have fun!

Who do I think of when I think back to my pre-teen days when all my brothers and sisters where all alive and at home. Who was who back then, Teresa Mary, Mary Anne, Frances Jane, Anthony Conrad, John Patrick and me , there had been three more but I never knew them and of course there was Mum and Dad.

Music played a huge part in my young life, in all our lives but I was the youngest and the one who soaked up the magic.

Mum loved the big musicals of the time, Carousel , Paint your Wagons, South Pacific. Now Dad he loved the classics, Maria Calis was exactly who my Dad really liked .. I learned to a appreciate Mum and Dad’s music at a young age.

Teresa loved Pat Boone, Frances loved Elvis and Cliff, Mary…well I can’t remember who Mary really liked back then but in later years she was into big shows and jazz. My brother Tony was heavily in to Johnny Mathis for whom I have a great liking still. Then there was John Patrick who was absolutely besotted with Buddy Holly and Adam Faith both of whom I also like.

So how can I finish this post? Well I am going to say that there is one of the afore mentioned artists of whom I am very much enamoured and that is Adam Faith! My favourite song of his is …wait for it…WHO AM I and here it is .💜

This is part of LindaGHill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday. #SoCs.

I never got to San Francisco.

Image from Pixabay

Ancient flower child

Recalls days of peace and love

When the world went wild

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