Originally Posted Saturday,
August 28, 2010
When I was little, there were no
media-linked toys, iPods, laptops, or cell phones. For many children of my era,
the toys we loved best were little green plastic army men, Hula-Hoops,
Slinkies, Ginny and Barbie dolls, Play-Doh, and Mr. Potato Head (played with
real potatoes). However, any toy, from any era, will be great for this
prompt.
First, think back to your childhood and recall a toy that was special to you. “Freewrite” about that toy for a few minutes. How is this toy the memory-trigger for a past experience and/or relationship? Write a poem about (1) the toy, (2) about a memory triggered by your recollection of the toy, or (3) about a person you associate with the toy. Alternatively, you might write about a toy that was special to your child or to a pet. You might enjoy writing a persona poem from the perspective of a toy. It's playtime!
First, think back to your childhood and recall a toy that was special to you. “Freewrite” about that toy for a few minutes. How is this toy the memory-trigger for a past experience and/or relationship? Write a poem about (1) the toy, (2) about a memory triggered by your recollection of the toy, or (3) about a person you associate with the toy. Alternatively, you might write about a toy that was special to your child or to a pet. You might enjoy writing a persona poem from the perspective of a toy. It's playtime!
Example:
Slinky
By Linda Radice
The kid in the commercial had straight stairs
for the coil to work its way down. The
three
story staircase in our house had landings that
turned. My slinky required a nudge around
corners, but
guided close to the railing it went
smoothly past Uncle Joe who came to visit
great-grandma every Thursday afternoon, and
slid by my grandfather in his
gardening shoes at
sun up. I could make it glide with my father’s run
when the fire whistle called him to the
station, and
work it around my mother – the constant between
each floor stepping quickly, my brother
on her hip,
to check on my grandmother after her stroke.
The staircase and the house around it are for sale,
the rest of the people who walked there
are gone,
sixty years of footsteps that wore the wood smooth.
I perfected Slinky’s twisted descent
long ago – the kid
with the straight stairs has nothing on me.
Copyright © 2015 by Linda Radice. All Rights Reserved.
From What We Can't Keep (Little Poodle Press, 2015).

