Alien child poem

Non conformist, your development doesn’t fit their charts, we are called in to chat

They tell us you have a will of iron

You just don’t like their games, their system, their lines and queues

Do you see fear in their eyes?

Do you know you have them on the run?

Should we tell them the truth?

You’re an alien, you have alien intelligence

Che Guevara and you

Four years old, you are never hostile to their plans but you have agendas of your own

You suck your thumb and hold close your cloth to communicate with moonbeam radio

When their demands are just too much your angel face bursts with tears but you never let go that will of iron, you are majestic

When I first saw you I couldn’t discern your nose

You were a strange faced noseless alien

My alien from my planet, other worldly

Disconnected from our words and letters and numbers you are served action plans

Sweet but troublesome, they don’t notice your antennae or your double eyelid blinks

Transmogrification is your special talent, you can be a dinosaur, dog, cat or horse in body and soul

Once, sat in you car seat, your mimicry of a cat’s miaow was too real

Now it's officially winter the teachers fight you to put on your coat

They don’t know the heat properties of alien skin when at speed in playground races

You won’t sit on their carpet too long, you leave the group to be a bird

Pink is your favourite colour, your eyes are green

On your planet red is sometimes green and green is sometimes red

You see the deeper tectonic wave patterns of the colours of our worlds

You are fearless and climbed the thirty foot high blue slide with the big kids at two and a half

You slid the bumpy blue plastic with joy, it was a nothing after interstellar flight

Each night you demand to be fed more of our earth stories yet the teachers tell us you have no interest in books

Are you scared your cover will be blown?

You are alien which means I am alien, we are aliens they cannot see, they think we are one of them

But teacher's training only touched on homeworld children, how could they see?

I am old and have forgotten my world, you take my hand to unveil my alien heritage again

I must listen harder to your incomprehensible babble, I know now it is our language; the language of our forefathers

The song in our blood that must be sung and when you are old and you have learnt the secret of invisibility and the teachers notice nothing amiss let me whisper that song in your ear once again

More by this Author

  • Greyhound USA

    The Greyhound bus is an icon; for a foreigner like me it smelt of Brooklyn Bridge and the towering Manhattan skyscape and the long straight endless desert roads past plateau and cactus. It connects with cars the size of...

Comments 8 comments

dohn121 profile image

dohn121 6 years ago from Hudson Valley, New York

There is no lacking in imagination here, hotspur. I enjoyed reading this, thank you.

hotspur profile image

hotspur 6 years ago from England Author

Thanks, glad you enjoyed reading it. Children feed your imagination!

Cris A profile image

Cris A 6 years ago from Manila, Philippines

vivid and imaginative! thanks for sharing :D

hotspur profile image

hotspur 6 years ago from England Author

Thanks Cris A. Not too much imagination. I have a four year old daughter who may be a little behind with her's very difficult to tell at such a young age whether there's a problem other than an idiosyncratic development programme..

Moulik Mistry profile image

Moulik Mistry 6 years ago from Burdwan, West Bengal, India

Really very imaginative, loved your creative thoughts...

hotspur profile image

hotspur 6 years ago from England Author

Thanks for you comment Moulik! :]

simran 6 years ago

gud poem

ridhima 5 years ago

gud poem gud imagination

    Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages Network account.

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No HTML is allowed in comments, but URLs will be hyperlinked. Comments are not for promoting your articles or other sites.

    Click to Rate This Article