Poetry Sunday

During these cold, rainy, miserable days of winter, I've been working on my long-term project of documenting our family history. As befits a family of immigrants with roots in many lands, there are lots of great stories to be learned and written down and passed on ... and there are also the things our parents told us that may or may not have been quite true ...

Lies My Mother Told Me 

by Elizabeth Thomas 

If you keep eating raw spaghetti
         you’ll get pinworms,
         then I’ll have to make
         a necklace of garlic for you to wear
         each night while you sleep,
         until they go away.
If you’re mean to your younger brother, I’ll know
         because I have a special eye
         that spies on you when I’m not home.
         You cannot hide from it,
         so don’t try.
If you touch your “down there”
         any time other than when using the toilet,
         your hand will turn green and fall off.
If you keep crossing your eyes
         they will stay that way
         until the wind
         changes direction.
It is bad luck to kill a moth. Moths are
         the souls of our ancestors and it just
         might be Papa paying a visit.
If you kiss a boy on the mouth
         your lips will stick together
         and he’ll use the opportunity
         to suck out your brains.
If you ever lie to me
         God will know and
         rat you out.
         And sometimes
         God exaggerates.
         Trust me -
         you don’t want that
         to happen.

All our parents told us lies, but only in the interest of helping to raise us to be good and responsible people. Of course, other people tell us lies as well ... and some of them get elected.

Have a good day, and enjoy the rest of your weekend. More thoughts tomorrow, when we trudge forward into the new week.

Bilbo