Posts Tagged ‘childhood’


My first memories of me as a child as a human being living and breathing the air around me. I’m playing with others, other children. We’re sat down on the pavement, it might be Gracey Lane, Buttershaw where I was born, it must be somewhere near there. It’s grey and overcast like an old black and white film. There’s no colour, just a puddle the other children and me. That is my first memory of my life on this planet we call earth. Not my mum or my dad, my brother or my sister but some nameless, faceless children on an unknown street and a puddle, all in black and white not colour.


i remember my lego bricks
boxes and boxes of them
different shapes, sizes and colours
some were round
others had wheels
i built everything /span>
from houses to skyscrapers
cars to concorde
tanks to battleships
i even built a planet
entirely from lego bricks
the only thing i did not
build was a wall


from the first light of the flickering filament
to the soiling of that clean white nappy
playing with toys, learning the rules of life
that scary first day with other frightened kids
and the years of listening and learning that follow
to end up cast into a world of love and hate
hunting for jobs to help me build a life
drinking in haunts to help me forget i live
meeting my first and only true love
repopulating the planet with my seed
watching them grow into miniature versions of me
as they repeat the process of life that i have been through
we grow old together and head towards
the unavoidable fate that besets all humanity
leaving behind all that we know and love
these are the memories of life i have accumulated
refuse festering in the dustbin of my mind


Today was quite a special day with the inaugural Horton Park, parkrun. I have many memories of Horton Park living near it in my youth from around the age of 14 to 24. Like anybody else I have good and bad memories, but most of my memories from Horton Park are good. It was interesting going back to the park. It’s in a lot better condition than I remember it, although some of the buildings like the bandstand have now gone. But all in all the park was just as I remember it, fond memories.

And it makes a great place for a parkrun. The course is challenging with half of it being uphill and the other half downhill. The start is uphill too before turning to the right and downhill back towards the finish before going uphill right to the top. You have to make sure you have enough energy left to get up the uphill, you do 3 ½ laps of the course although on the last downhill you can afford to give it a little bit more. I managed 30:43 which for the type of course is very good for me. This included my sprint finish which I am going to have to do every time I run this course now!

I was wearing some new shoes too, Brooks Ghost 7. I have been having deep muscle massage on my legs and the guy who’s doing it, Peter May, told me I was wearing the wrong type of shoes. Many years ago I went to a shop called Sportshoes Unlimited and had gait analysis done. I was told I needed to wear support shoes for running and have done so everysince. However Peter took one look at my legs and told me that I should be wearing neutral, cushioned shoes not support ones.

And the problem I thought was my Achilles wasn’t that, but a very tight right calf possibly caused by wearing the wrong shoes! Peter has sorted my calf out and I am running freer and better than ever. But I had already bought some new support shoes from a shop called Up and Running in Huddersfield. I took them back yesterday and they did a gait analysis on me and I am indeed a neutral runner. So I came away with a pair of Brooks Ghost 7’s and they performed superbly today. I felt so comfortable and at ease running in them, that I didn’t even notice I was wearing them. I’m quite sure the work Peter has done on my legs and my new Brooks have helped me to such a good time.

But what I was most happy about today was the fact that I could run after Thursdays club run. This was tough for me and took a lot out of me, but my recovery time is improving all the time and today was proof of that. And after the parkrun I still feel as good as before. This is boosting my confidence no end and my legs are feeling stronger than ever. This will be tested tomorrow when I go out on a training run over moorland. I’ve got a route in mind that will really test my abilities and allow me to see where I am in relation to the races I’ve entered.


the valley of my memories that started from a

single pipe, too dark to see beyond its mouth

too small to climb in and explore its stomach as it

spewed forth its watery contents

 

into the valley of my childhood

always moving fast in the same direction

through parts narrow and parts wide

as the sides of the valley rose and fell

 

running with the stream as

we played in its bowels

day after day after day

as the sunshine warmed wet pebbles

 

where it never rained or snowed

so we could build dens to hide in

as friends ran by seeking us

pretending to be brave soldiers

 

leaping over the narrow parts and

jumping from the highs to the lows

flying through the air like

peter pan, if only for a second

 

landing in a heap on stones

that cut and grazed our knees

our only scars of war

this was as brave as we got

 

and then the valley ended

disappearing into a tunnel

one we could crawl into

see into, no secrets in here

 

and we got through to the other side

to a dark place we did not recognise

this was not our playground

we did not belong here

 

so we would turn around and leave

this desolate place behind and

return to our valley, the valley

of a never ending childhood

© Andrew Smith 2014


I’ve heavily revised this poem. Hope you all like it.

on a bright, september morning

his mother kissed him

let go of his hand for the first time

hanging in mid-air longing

to be held again before slowly

drifting down to his side

as he watched his mother

fade to grey in the crowd

realising he was alone

for the first time in his short life

in a world of unfamiliar faces,

unnatural bodies, slow motion figures,

orbiting his mind lowryquse

pass by going nowhere

a gaggle of kids stop, stare

his vulnerability exposed

in the sunlight bouncing

off a black mirror into eyes

belonging to distant relatives

he is alone, easy meat for the

slaughter men of the playground

encircling their prey like

a pack of wild chimps

and he is alone in a head of noise

figures pass by, not seeing him,

not hearing him not tasting him

as mandibles lash out

and he falls to the cold,

dark ocean of asphalt,

his body sinks deep

into a mass of hard blackness

rebounding ready for the

next punch as faceless objects

peer down at him laughter

intoxicated by primordial aggression

leering at his overwhelming confusion

tears flow down frightened cheeks

as fingers grapple to

pull hair, redden skin

rip his organs from his

body and eat them

while he watches

then it stops

the bell rings

dividing the air

and this asphalt space

is devoid of life,

no noise, no movement,

no beating,

and he lays on the skin

of the earth

the only sign of humanity

in this violent landscape


He remembers that first day at school

On a cold September morn as his mother

Let go of his hand for the first time and let it

Drop to the floor, kissed him on the forehead,

Turned around and left him there alone for the

First time in a field of unfamiliar faces, a

Landscape of slow motion figures, revolving

Around him like a L.S. Lowry painting and then

They see him, a gaggle of kids looking for the

Vulnerable, those alone, easy meat to pick on,

Waiting to strike them, destroy them in the blink of an

Eye before anyone notices what is happening

And then they begin their attack, moving slowly,

Encircling their prey like a pack of wild chimps

Ready for the right moment to set about their

Victim, and he is alone in a wall of noise as

Figures past by not seeing him, avoiding him

Not wanting to be there when they tear into him,

And the first punch comes from nowhere and he

Falls to the cold, dark ocean of asphalt, his body

Sinking deep into it before rebounding ready for the

Next kick as faceless objects peer down at him

Laughing, mocking, enjoying seeing him in

Confusion and pain, asking why, why, why,

And the beating begins like a shower of meteor’s

Ripping into the earth from everywhere and

Then it stops as the clock strikes ten and this

Asphalt space is devoid of life,

No more noise, no more movement,

No more beating’s, and he lays on the skin

Of the earth the only sign of humanity in

This violent landscape


Sorry but I haven’t been on here for a while. Been feeling under the weather and out of sorts. Not been feeling very creative so not much writing done. However I have come up with this one. It’s how I view growing up with Asperger’s and how it can feel sometimes.

Growing Up

As children growing up we are all the same
All developing through play, school, family and friends
Sight, hearing, taste, touch, smell
All exciting and new to a child

Socialising and communicating with others
As they explore a whole new world
Excitement uncontained and unabated
And then childhood stops

For some at least
But for others it does not
Their bodies grow old and weary
Yet their minds are still those of children

Thinking like a child
Feeling like a child
Living in an adult body
In an unfamiliar world

That doesn’t understand

Struggling to cope with everyday tasks
Day after day after day
Welcome to the world of autism
Children living in adult bodies

Struggling to live in an adult world
A world they don’t understand
Struggling with life everyday
But always with a smile on their face