I hurt my child again today, but that's all right you see, she was talking very loudly, and irritating me.
So I whacked her pretty smartly, across the arm or face, it doesn't really matter, to me it's no disgrace.
I've done this so many times, it just comes naturally, just like my mother raised me, it's the fool in me, you see.
I've told her not to spill her milk, about a hundred times, never mind the floor is filthy, I don't have to make it shine.
So I slapped her very smoothly, and made her cry once more, I'm immune to her whining, she makes it such a bore.
You've gotten ketchup on your shirt again, don't look at me and pout. I don't know how to get it off, I can always throw it out.
Washing clothes is not important, I have better things to do, if you weren't such a messy eater, if you would only chew.
There'll be no more food for you today, I'm really bothered see? Can't you understand simple English? I said get away from me!
I care about my child, I do, and I'll prove it in a minute, why just last week a playmate pushed her, and skinned her little knees, and boy I was so upset, I put my two cents in it!
I was yelling and screaming, it's the teacher's fault, you see?
She didn't watch the other kids, all much bigger than she is, she can't take care of herself because she's not yet three.
Don't let the children hurt her, that's reserved especially for me.
I hurt my child more than anyone, but it never dawns on me,
I'm hitting my own children, I'm the mother, can't you see?
She cries when she is hungry, or if she's cold or wet, I swear she's getting on my nerves, I'll have to beat her yet.
Sometimes she reaches out her little arms, begging to be held, but since I mustn't spoil her, a slap is what she'll get.
I'll put her in her little crib, she can't get out of there, and I'll just turn out the lights and leave her crying there,
when she's too tired of crying, we won't hear her anymore, if she wakes up again, I'll have to close the door.
Spare not the rod and spoil the child, is what my mother said, I think God made her an expert, I must listen to what she says.
It must be right, just look at me, it doesn't hurt a bit, this is the way that I was raised, and nothings wrong with it.
I am immune to those weak cries, and surely God don't care, I was also beaten as a child, and no one raised a prayer.
One day when social service comes knocking at my door, I'll make up some excuses, it's the neighbors, nothing more.
They spoil my child, they pick her up, they give her what she wants, she laughs too loud and plays too long, she's happy all at once.
They just can't stand my discipline, I can see it in their face, every time that I hit her, while we're over at their place.
Somehow it gives me pleasure, to be in such control, its perversion at it's finest, I'm enjoying this I know,
they better not say anything, we'll just get up and go.
I wont let them visit her, that'll teach them, yes it will, then they'll start to see things my way, it's my way or the hills.
Who are these people anyway, who raise their kids so kind, and do they think that they are perfect, that their children always mind?
They've never spanked their children, or maybe once or twice, all of their kids are well behaved, their son is very nice
He hasn't ever hit me, I wish he would sometimes, then I could get attention, and this would be just fine.
I may have Munchausen by proxy, sometimes my child is ill,
if another child has fallen sick, mine will too as well, but I don't know how to fix it, its a very bitter pill.
I'll have to call my mother, she'll answer right away, doesn't matter if I call her, thirty times a day.
I wouldn't have to call so much, every time I try, if only she had picked me up, and held me when I cried.
My child hit a teacher, and I spanked him very hard, I yelled you can't hit people, this is what I said.
My child then hit a playmate, just like I showed him to, I then had to hit him, and remind him what to do.
I don't know where they're learning this, it's from the other kids, I said you can't hit people, you're not people, don't you know?
You're just my little angel, and now it's time to go.
This poem as I have read it, has made me very mad, they're sick the ones that read it, and are smitten very sad.
There is only one thing more, that's left for me to do, I must stop that incessant whining, they don't have a clue.
Although the sun's still shining, I can see it through the door, I must put my child to bed, because my hands are sore. It's about me.
Its about me, a poem©Copyright Dec 2005, byronc, All rights reserved.
45 comments:
This poetry is incredibly sad, and I have to wonder from whom your inspiration comes for it. It seems that it is a portrait. I hope that there is a solution for this person should they exist. There is irony in the words "spoil the child", for your poem clearly shows that the ruin of the child is accomplished by the savage use of the rod. As you said, when "it's about me" instead of the child, there is such devastating results.
Why this poem?
a portrait, yes. the inspiration for this came at 2 A.M. as i was awakened with this poem going over clearly in my head. i didn't write it then and it didn't go away so i wrote it that following night.
unfortunately, there are many parents that are like this who mistakenly believe they are doing something right, and they don't understand the irreparable damage they are causing and the confusion they are creating for their own children. if in posting this, it possibly reaches some one, anyone, and helps save a child from even one undeserved and unnecessary flogging, i have done a small part.
if it is incredibly sad, then i have chosen the right words to convey my thoughts and these children's pain.
I believe it is good. As for needing work, I can not know. Every good thing inspires another, and everyone thinks "if I had done this, i might have..."
Whether you could help others by posting it publicly waits to be seen. Like sermons, these things are cast upon the waters upon the chance that someone will benefit by them. They are matters of faith.
Whether or not to intervene is a decision to be made best by you. However, there may be a child to consider more so than your popularity. The defense of the innocent is primary. Can you protect the child without intervention? If so, do so. If not, then you will do whatever it takes. You see it best.
The right words? Of course they are. They are picture perfect.
it's really not a question of if i'll intervene or not, i will & do and also try to maintain good relations. it's a matter of how quietly i can continue doing that, i can lose my temper or try another way.
i'm not a really smart person so when i am inspired to write, i believe it comes from a deeper or higher source. it's really the only time i write anything seriously, most of the time i am full of baloney.
as for maintaining popularity, i don't think i come over as mr. nice guy or anything like that. this poem has the potential to suggest subtly or maybe outright imply that i do not want to be confrontational, but i am concerned. it carries a theme that could be a wake up call, an oh, my!, a denial, or a anger provoking message. that is what i look for when i write, to be able to touch the emotions of the many different individuals that may happen to read it. i have written and submitted articles to the editor of our local newspaper that were always good enough to be published, and have gotten many positive comments back from people i wouldn't expect.
it's also a if the shoe fits, wear it, kind of poem. since allowing multiply to use my image & quote in their testimonials, traffic has steadily increased to my lowly site.with 864 visits to my home page alone by 447 different users. my daughter-in-law subscribes to every post any of her contacts make and will definitely receive it in her e-mail, so, if she asks if i wrote it about her, i can honestly say that she inspired me. :o).
shame to waste a good poem too. i haven't decided yet to polish it or abandon it.
Publish.
timing
cacirilo
I believe it is good. As for needing work, I can not know. Every good thing inspires another, and everyone thinks "if I had done this, i might have..."
Whether you could help others by posting it publicly waits to be seen. Like sermons, these things are cast upon the waters upon the chance that someone will benefit by them. They are matters of faith. The defense of the innocent is primary.
The right words? Of course they are. They are picture perfect.delete replyreply to this
i suppose that i am becoming a much better grandpa than i ever was a father. the years i lost with my boys while i was trying to discover myself i can not get back, and making up for lost time is not the same as getting it right the first time. i have decided not to try and polish or clean this up, but just leave it as is.
It is a good thing to learn while we live. Too many have left lessons to be learned by others of what not to do. I hope to always be able to grow, and to show others how. Thanks for this.
those of us who gained at least some small measure of wisdom over the years have reached an age where we look back and know there were way too many times when we gave less than our best, leaving too many regrets. and, of course you're right, trying to make up is not the same as getting it right the first time. if i can get it right most of the time henceforward, i will be glad. i do my best. i did my best. the best i know how.
i look at my sons and i am proud beyond measure. i hear their words of endearment to me and my heart leaps because i believe their love is all the reward i shall ever need for what i may have gotten right, as well as all the forgiveness i shall ever need for all i got wrong. watching them raise theirs is the gift i have left and it is too large a gift for me to contemplate.
hearing yr love for yr children and grandchildren, and watching it in action, makes memories for me that i shall always treasure. living near you and yours, bunny, is also a great gift.
now, for the time being, mama is my child. the one who makes the messes, spills the milk, doesn't go to bed, and hates her bath. she is also the one who tells me, "come here sugar baby. don't you want to sleep with me?" or the oft repeated refrain, "i love you darling honey" and the more rare, "lotus! come here and TALK to me!" my joy is when mother laughs loud, plays long, and is happy all at once. my joy is in giving her what she wants. i know i only have a short time left with her. then maybe i can watch my grandchildren grow up.
love to all my fmy and their tender hearts.
reading this poem brought tears to my eyes it kind of reminded me of my own childhood being beaten with anything my mother could get her hands on but now as i am older and wiser i realize that children can push parents to their limits and some times it is hard to control our temper the best we can do is love our children and let someone higher than us help i hope i have not offended anyone as i have not meant too
this poem is open for reading and replies to everyone, and is intended for anyone that may find it useful, even those who may disagree. i am happy that i could share my feelings with you on such an unpleasant subject matter, however, i believe it was imperative that i dispense it.
as an occasional writer, i feel that if i have touched the emotions of the reader, i have written what i intended to convey.
yes, children can test our patience, but we have to remember that we are the adults, and we are the ones that must demonstrate restraint and respect. there is a difference between well taught discipline, and ignorance. hitting a child is always a bad idea, and more than likely teaches them just the opposite of what we want them to learn. .
if i beat my child often, then it will teach them thats okay, and i might see the horror of them beating other children, and they may even beat my grandchildren, as they have learned it from me, which is a thought i cannot bear.
love is evermore a more potent teaching aid than a blow, by whatever means.
your last post makes a lot of sense. I think the reason a lot of parents hit kids it's a short cut to getting a response out of the child. if a parent is engaged with their child there is rarely a moment that merits a spanking. Never motived by frustration, anger or such. "Love is the greatest of these"
i agree that abuse will breed abuse and i was in no way saying i agree with hitting a child as a person who was beaten often growing up i tried hard not to hit my children and find another way to punish and i will never hit my grandchildren but i do understand how hard it can be not to lash out at times your poem was touching and sad and yes we do have to realize we are the adults and it is not hard to see by your photos that you love your family
that is truly the "secret" of successful parenting. well put.
we don't show the pictures of the ugly ones. :o)
i am saddened for you. i can tell by your response that you have adjusted very well. your grandchildren will love you for it.
Blame not your father, but his emotional instabitlity caused by a very tough life and some cirilo genes which led to that instabililty. If only we had lived close to you all to help protect you from the beatings.
This poem's title may be a little misleading. This is not a poem about myself, this poem is about the character that is portrayed within the poem. And yes, although my inspiration for this particular title is about a real person, this literary piece is about the selfishness that is exhibited by this mother's actions. It is intended to expose anyone that may happen upon this poem and, hopefully, make them realize that when they mistreat their children, it is because they are focused on themselves and to the detriment of their children.
Thanks for the remarks though, means someones still reading it :O).
I must say, reading this made me very sad. I believe the sadess part is that the mother thinks she doing something right. When we are children and our parents do something wrong to us, we vow that we'll never do that to our children, but honestly we usually end up doing the same thing. A young boy who sees his father beat his mother, grows up doing the same thing, eventhough he hated seeing his mother hurt. A young woman watching her mother have sex for money, grows up and does the same thing, eventhough she hated seeing her mother abused by these men. Not all children grow up to repeat the acts, but there are those that do. Now, I do believe in not sparing the rod, but there is a difference in sparing the rod and abusing your child. But I have learned that even spankings don't work 100% on any child. Other steps and acts of punishment, including time outs, may no outside time, no video games, or the taking away for other extracurricular activities (this does not include food and other needs, you don't take away needs), that the child can do without. But this is just my 2 cents.
Well said, lilone.
No matter how many guidance books and experts there are on proper child rearing, there is no one recipe for every child. As parents, we are all only learning. I stand by my credence that there is no such thing as a bad child, only bad parents. All children are born virtuous, and a gift to be cherished and nourished. If we fail at this simple task, we will be held accountable.
Thanks for your thoughts.
Sounds very Buddhist! I have observed some children that grow in adults are just born wrong. Some so wrong, that even good parenting and circumstance won't even partly mitigate their actions. Others like my son are both strong and strong willed. At 4 years old he weighed 60 pounds, stood 4 1/2 foot high insisting he was my equal. He refused all punishment, challenged time outs, and broke things to punish me. Only thing he ever came to respect was one warning, two warnings, third warning announcement and spanking. By the time he got his open hand spanking I was always black and blue from his pounding on me. It was this respect that stopped him in his tracks several times from attacking my current wife who isn't much bigger or that much stronger. He never did stop the snide racial comments about her instigated by his mother. (Eventually his behavior made him unwelcome in my home) About 15 years later I supported him for 2/3 a year to take care of his mother when she had aggressive breast cancer. I know other kids with crappy parents who even when beaten, abused, and deserted grow up to be successful adults, and filial children. No Buddha nature or God's image here, just a rotten but successful kid. Seems he now doesn't have any use for his mother either.
almost two years since i wrote the above ... the time i had left with my loving mother was so so so exceptionally short. what i wouldn't give to have the years back to love her all over again.
bah. i guess my makeup is running again, since tears are streaming ... on campus. so irritating.
hmmm...
luv,
c
this is very thot provoking. and it upset my stomach.
very pretty picture of that baby. :)
Sorry about that. It isn't intended to upset grandmas!
whoa, I will come back and comment again when I can see the screen through my tears and when the pain in my heart stops and my mind starts moving again because at this present I am frozen and am only in my heart centre. And it hurts me as if I were the child.
If it is not intended to upset grandmas may I ask who it is intended to upset? Would it be the victim or the abuser? This hurts me because it is supposed to be poetic. Josette Bradbury .
It is such a tragedy that in so many cases the abused becomes an abuser later in life. Controversial subject matter. Many lay in silence and their story never heard. Though I find it hard to understand that if you are not the subject of this poem how did you come around to writing about such a controversial subject. Most poetry on these subjects are written as a process of healing.
What bothers me about this particular piece of 'poetry' is the harm it may do to any child who may become the victim of a would be abuser who may find some warped kind of satisfaction from reading this 'poem.' Thousands will read it. I'm very, very unhappy with the photograph of the child used to illustrate child abuse. God knows because I sure don't know what your motive was when you published this on a world wide forum. There are many avenues to healing my friend and putting more children at risk is NOT one of them. Josette Bradbury (Mrs) address supplied if needed.
Thank you very much for publishing this here. You have a good heart and I appreciate you and how much you care.
Odd, some of the responses, like that of josette1, whoever that might be. Can't imagine what makes her think this prose would put more children at risk. But there's no accounting for how some folks brains turn. Perhaps she has spent time as abused or abuser, or not.
Again, thanks for your good heart and for caring. I do know where you're speaking from and what you're speaking of. Statistically speaking, this type tragedy has touched more than we know. I hope your published prose reaches even more and causes them to think deeply and explore their own feelings in response.
Sometimes, such pain touches the lives of those we know, not necessarily ourselves. Through their acquaintance, we see through their eyes into their storm, and speak on their behalves.
tarvergen -whoever you are this BLOG thing is not about ME. It is about the potential harm it may do to others and that includes children who may be abused as a result of this 'poem.'
As I said, can't imagine what makes you think this prose would put more children at risk.
Nonetheless, I appreciate finding "this BLOG thing" published here and I appreciate the publisher's obvious care/heart/concern.
those days passed too quickly. i suppose they are never enough.
Ah, I have struck a chord, and I am grateful for your comments. If this poem, and that it is, draws emotion from the reader, it is intentional, because it is written from the heart. It is also written in the third person, and if that is overlooked, then you've completely misread the poem, and understand little about writing. I might suggest going back and re-read the poem, along with the replies, your own included, you may have missed something.
We can bury our head in the sand, and pretend that children are not misused, abused, or neglected each and every day in our communities, sometimes within our own home, and sometimes without our even being aware that it is happening. Many parents would consider some of the things spoken of in the prose to be commonplace parenting, my intent is to expose it to the reader as abuse.
Yes, this poem makes a dynamic statement, and thank you for noticing.
didn't you tho!
Little Brother,
I love you and thank you for the time and thoughtfulness you've taken with this poetry.
As a son, brother, nephew, grandchild, uncle, parent, and grandparent both of us share personal interests in the treatment of the young. However, as a member of the human community, you have taken an additional step and done a small part to increase awareness beyond your personal world.
I agree that it is painful. I disagree that it is wrong.
Thanks charles. I shouldn't try to defend my writing so. What people may think or say of me is unimportant.
Even those who vilify me, appear to voice a concern for the children. The poem is effective.
yup. that it is.
nicely done!
Sometimes reading some of the comments
I get the feeling some here are,or have witness abuse and therefor don't like reading this:
Personaly I think it's very good and the part where it said"I don't know where they learn this?
wow it's denial for sure,however,it's also learned as a child.,it's a domino effect in our world and reality
it is how a person grew up,she /he has a child and passes abuse on:
what is abusive?-Screaming,yelling terrible words.telling a child she is no good,
of course the hitting ,but all are scars that do not heal;
Teach your child to love
He will like himself
Show him respect
He will respect others
Teach him to speak in a softer voice
He will never become a screamer
I could go on and on.but won't
The abuse has been swept under the rug for so long and now people can and will be more
able to come forth and talk about it ,write about it(anywhere)to make a person and others realize
YOU DO NOT HARM YOUR CHILD"never,never:
I cried reading it but that's alright because it is sad,mothers,or others that hit ,scream,etc children
to me are not well or stable they need help
and I hope someone reading this can see if indeed they need help go get it
the children cannot:
Our children need love,understanding,and if you don't know how
then don't have a child,
and I repeat go get help:
Children are not born bad"
rotten kid you say oh myyyyyyyyyyyyyy--
shame on you:
after all you were/are the adult:
did I misread your post ?if so excuse me:
Sure some abused kids grow into succesful people
however,do you really know what is in his/her/eyes/brain
having success does not mean all is forgiven
but given the rate of abusive your comment is hardly correct:
Thank you Evie for taking the time to read the poem and the replies.
Your thoughts are appreciated and kind. Best regards, byron
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