Lets not forget


18b - 1 (6)


18b - 1 (7)



when we built worlds to invite anyone in,

wet the ball point of our pen with the tip of our tongue,

when the summer holidays seemed way too long,

but our dreams were cut so short,

cause we did not reel them in quick enough,

                                     but threw back what we could have caught,

like sea fishing with a river rod way too short,

ambition & desire cast by tools that flew & dipped into shallows

way beyond our limited reach,

yet still remain to be rediscovered in hastily scribbled black, red binder note books.

Lets not forget

seek & find made you not hide those dreams,

but wear them like the hand sewn shoulder badges

earned with all your gusto, graft and mighty craft at brownies & cubs,

feeling like Robocop

meaning more to you than the term report your elders & betters fought over

like squabbling politicians.

Lets not forget how lost we thought we were,

by taking that wrong turn with our hand held out at arms length

90 degrees to the paper flag flapping from the seat of your bike you had

pimped up with the birthday money from your favourite honorary Uncle and Auntie,

holding tightly onto the three stripped rubber grip on the prong fork like handle bars

with your one free hand,

when maps were explored in your head, without Apps, & left you in worlds of your own,

or in the real world amongst streets unknown.

Take yourself back,

and lets not forget,

when our gangs were not about hoods, teams, non freedoms,

but trying to be the lost boys, ghostbusters, hunting for that imagined monster,

not the perceived terrorist.

Lets not forget,

before it became about Ka ching,

when typewriters chinged, until the red/ black spools faded,

& the words become mere ghosts of what was intended,

when kisses were knee- wobblers,

well before you dared go rushing chin-long in

or a tender head tilt for that precious first-one,

crushes were long shots or long gone, moved on,

when we still put hearts round the names of the cool or quirky one

in our class,

tried to get passing looks from them

by the sheer will of burning eyes into cold shoulders.

Take yourself back

and lets not forget,

when our time was full of endless energy,

of moments we recall only now to memory with a smell, a song, a poem,

yet we bare witness to wonderment of our lost youth,

aint it the truth!

that teachers & parents could do no wrong,

sang your favorite song to sooth your small ails, aches and pains,

when a feeling consumed your head, filled your heart to bursting,

& left you still thirsting for knowledge you could never be taught,

like how to bounce straight back up as the brave toddler you were,

later but a blossoming teenager, full of angst and fury,

with a story only you lived out, you can tell,

they can never, ever, ever understand,

all blind to seeing the replays that happen in the ampitheatre of childhood.

Lets not forget,

the first time you froze from fear and panic,

feeling that one drop of perspiration trickle down from your forehead,

down your face,

carving grooves as thick as the limbs of kid’s crayon Lowry stick men & women,

when Christoper Wren and Poo Bear were you favourite companions,

& imagination was not rationed by the rigid reassurance of responsibilities,

Lets not forget,

to pay tribute like Pannini sticker trade offs, Trump card loses,

 like loose chain down the back of the stiffening back of experience.

Lets not forget,

to be brave as the kid warriors we were,

going blindly into new challenges

like kick ass R&D roleplay characters,

video arcade fighters

hitting grand master level.

Like candyfloss carrying merrygo round spinners shouting into the air

woooooooooooo, wuuuuuuuuuuuuuu,

we can do,

until we are as dust as the cosmic stars that share the night sky with the too oft forgotten dreams of our childhood.

©2015 – Stewart Tunnicliff photo model credits Oskar Taruza, Theo Steinhauser