Growing Pains

Growing Pains short poem

Bones knit, and stretched,
and grew, and tendons tightened
to the point of breaking, but,
for all the pain, I never
seemed to grow,
much.

My father whet
his hands with olive oil,
from an old bottle,
corked with cotton wool,
and rubbed my legs
until his hands became hot.

It was a trick
learnt from Geordie Devlin,
who trained boxers
in his spare time,
and cured minor ailments
in his meal hour
in the Shipyard,
on a joiner’s bench,
between the bible class
and the card school.

Perhaps if it hadn’t been
for Geordie Devlin
I could have been
taller.

This poem is part of the Poetry Book Black Eyed Peace

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of david atkinson

david atkinson

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
Irish poet, who spent his early years in Belfast and now lives in Coleraine with his wife and 2 children. His first collection "Thomas" was published by Lapwing in 2005, and his second collection "Black Eyed Peace" has just been published. It is available as either a free eBook or in traditional printed format. His work has been widely published in magazines, anthologies, and on-line. His work has also been broadcast and published by the BBC and a number of his poems have achieved competition success. He has been involved with the Ballymoney Writers for over 15 years and has edited and published 3 collections of their work.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

Love Pains

Love Pains english poems

It pains my heart to say this verse That the love that brought joy in life Turns to a nightmare that stays still Every time when tries to forget this pain I get reminded of what I have lost The

Inner Pains

Inner Pains prose poem

Steaming pain, Timing pays, Hate these days, Sadness In my brain, Why is there pain, In my veins, This must be the day, I admit my sins, I can’t do much, I get yelled at a lot, I get bad

Growing Up(side Down)

Growing Up(side Down) long poem

When Dorothy was a child she started building a castle with bricks of yellow and blue; But how could she have known that someday soon Each one will be broken in two. The bricks consisted of ideas and thoughts, colorful

Growing Up

Growing Up short poem

I can remember when I was 5, A time in my life where I would thrive, I’d got so big I could go to school, I tried to be good, not break the rules. I can remember when I was

Growing Old

Growing Old prose poem

It’s crazy how when we are young we have no care in the world. We live freely and just for today. We don’t think about tomorrow unless it’s a sleepover. friends party. concert. vacation, or school break. When we are