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Kiss Chasey POEM

It is said writers often tell a story many times before they get around to writing them down. Well, that is certainly the case with this early childhood experience.

I have told this story many times across the years and now I have finally taken the step of writing those words down in the form of this narrative poem. It is important to realize that events in our lives can spark ideas for poetry. 

The events that are written about here happened quite some years ago, so they are my version of the truth as I recall it. Just like so many of life's experiences, it contains both happy and sad moments. 

We must never forget writing is about both the mud and the flowers, the good and the bad, and sometimes we write about our embarrassing moments too...


Kiss Chasey

All the kids in the street
Gathered in Alan Prebble’s
Front Garden
Bikes on the grass
A gang of eight
Milling around the shrubbery
Just talking
Then someone said
We should do something
Then there was silence
Until Barry, a big kid said
Let’s play a game
Then the muttering began
A hubbub of mumbles and muttering
In the midst of the murmurs
A voice rose up like a wisp of smoke
A wisp of smoke from a country cottage chimney
We could play kiss chasey the voice whispered

A pause…
Then an okay was uttered
Not too sure who said it
Or why
I was only nine years old
And I knew…
Well, not much
I certainly had never heard of kiss chasey
The mention of the words kiss chasey
Made the girls squeal and the boys blush

Barry explained the rules
It’s simple really said Big Barry
The girls run and hide
The boys try to find them…
You’ve only got two minutes
And, if you find one, you can give her a kiss
If she lets you
Do you have to?
Asked Alan Prebble
-well the game is called kiss chasey
Oh yeah
 I suppose you’re right said Prebbs

The girls scattered into the garden
Still squealing
The boys followed after counting to one hundred
Slowly and deliberately
Like extras in a zombie movie
I trailed behind
A little bit confused

Ahead of me, I saw her
Standing beside the hydrangea bushes
Like a statue
Unmistakably, it was Margo
Staring straight ahead
Frozen in time
Margo the cool dream girl
Margo who made me nervous
Margo who made me feel awkward
That Margo

I slowed
I glowed
As the distance between shrank
Margo was still staring
Barely blinking
What was she thinking?

Knees shaking
Heart racing
I somehow took a hesitant step forward
An invisible magnet drew me closer to dream girl Margo

A soft, dry kiss
All over so quick
No lip lock
No lingering here
I stepped away
Now, it was me staring…

Margo slowly raised her arm
And dragged it across her mouth
Removing the boy germs
No words
Just a look of disgust spreading across her face
As if she’d been kissed by a frog
A weird, warty swampy frog

She slowly wandered off
Leaving me
Welded to the spot
Staring at the hydrangea bushes
-The boy with wonky lips
And crumby kisses
Frog boy

Right there
In that moment
I decided I would never play
Kiss chasey again

Alan j Wright


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