In her second entry into our Defying Moments contest, Rachel Walker offers us a poem which is deliciously left of center. She explores – with just a few, sweet words – the mystifying element of attraction that makes us tingle with delight when someone does something “just so.” Does this quirky inner marker of what-makes-our-socks-go-up-and-down have its roots somewhere in childhood? Maybe. Maybe next time you’ll try tilting left, and see what happens.
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Topic: The Second Time We Kissed
Second Left
You tilt left
and I am struck-silly
by the memory of one who
tilted left
under the swing set when my braids still reached my waist
and recess was heaven on monkey bars.
The flush that follows the warm press of lips
(too young, even, for peach fuzz)
rings clear like a school bell,
leading me to you through a myriad of ho-hums
who tilted right.
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Maybe if Don Quixote had tilted left, he would have had better luck with Dulcinea.
Pure magic, Rachel–thanks! So few words, and you pulled me completely into the world of schoolkids–and puppy love.
spykergyrl
You definitely had more fun during recess than I did.
spykergyrl
You definitely had more fun during recess than I did.
spykergyrl
I have to comment again because I love this poem so much. I keep thinking about it.
http://www.awordwithyoupress.com/ Thornton Sully
How sweet, how innocent, how shy was I that even a playground scenario such as this was too guilt-laden for me as as a ten year old to imagine such things. But you did. Way kuhl. Wish I was the one who tilted left.(Now I lean to the left with passion and verve, and vote democratic, and can't even imagine what it would be like to kiss a republican.)
cherilynkirschbam
Thorn, raoflmao! I love your commentaries.
Ok. This was short, but so great, I felt my first kiss in third game that tasted like a blow pop and just as sticky. I slapped the poor boy.
I do miss the heaven of monkey bars. Too bad that now I'm of an age, that I'm asked to leave such gardens of Eden for “trespassing”. I figure it's useless to say to the police,”But officer, I can't come by day, there are too many children!”
I want to find my left tilter.
spykergyrl
I didn’t just enjoy it; I LOVED it. I’m STILL thinking about it.
Rachel
Thanks for all your comments! I'm glad you enjoyed it.
dfjbstl
Rachel, There are a number of words which, for whatever reason, remind me of this bell theme, if there really is a bell theme and I'm not at all sure you were thinking bell theme when you wrote it, other than the obvious in line 9. Some are a stretch: tilt, struck, swing, braid (pulling braids, i.e. bell ropes?), heaven, flush, ho-hums (ding-dong?), leading, i.e. a parishioner responding to the call to worship. (yes! and then take that to the present lover, past all the others, whom the woman now worships as the one after all the myriad less-worthies). I can even picture a swing set from the side and have the A shape which reminds me of a bell. See, like I said, stretch. Again, not that it matters. That’s just what I see, and since you have let the poem go, it not only belongs to you any longer. I like the way the poem falls quickly through lines 1-4 then slows considerably due to line length, consonants such as S F L W V and especially long vowel sounds. Here is where we are supposed to linger. That’s where the memory is, the heart of the poem, which might be a bit ironic. What is still back there?! Hmmmm Now some dislikes, or less likes. Why the hyphen in struck-silly? Silly-struck might need a hyphen, but not struck silly. As much as I like the bell thing, at least my bell thing, I’m not sure that I get the comparison between the flush and a ringing bell. Can you compare a feeling and a sound? Well, I did think flush was part of the bell theme, didn't I? It might be there if I give it more thought and time. I’m also wondering about line 8. Is it necessary and it might distract from the clarion call of the school bell in line 9. If you must keep it, at least consider (even too young for peach fuzz). I suppose the parentheses must stay, but the commas slow us down in what should be a fleeting memory inside a memory. In keeping with my comments about lines 1-4 falling quickly, break 3 after one, then line 4 reminds us of line 1. Maybe the last 3 lines should turn into 4 and take you quickly to the end of the poem. Break 10 after “you”, and we more quickly return to the present and see her tilting right and now kissing with a smile, a mystery as to why.
BTW I hate to say it, but my instinct is to tilt right.
