When I Was Fourteen
I took a walk around the world
When I was fourteen.
A round-trip from the country
Of Florida to the province of
Friendship.
I broke out my camp gear on
The way to the sea of desire
And edged my way to the point
Of view.
When I was fourteen
I took gym class and failed
Showers.
The water lapped at my body,
Its steamy blows pelting my
Boyhood.
The jocks jeered at me ‘cause
I cried in shop class a lot
When I was fourteen.
The girls wore saddle shoes
With bobby sox and they
Liked me seeing as I could
Dance the jitterbug.
I loved the beat, the jiggling
Of my legs against my pants
And I learned to cope with
My feelings of trackless taunts.
I starred in a one-act play but
Forgot my lines
When I was fourteen.
I had a dream in the province
Of friendship that there was
A boy called little prince
Who nourished a rose.
Prince taught me that I would
Only see clearly with my heart
When I was fourteen.
A new boy came to school one
day and sat next to me at chorus
practice.
He gazed at me, his eyelashes
and lips detailed in copper, head
tipped back as though in trance
and pulled off his t-shirt.
I am here today because he was
There, nourishing me like prince’s
Rose, but with courage.
When I was fourteen
I met the gymnast of love, his
Daring glance, his feather touch,
Defiant, preaching counterpoint.
I tried to run away but his name
Kept Calling me back, like a
Birdsong: “Phillip,” it whispered,
“My name is Phillip.”
And I went to him, to his glance,
To his smile, to his arms, and
He sang to me, this boy named
Phillip:
“I know you, my little prince,
You are a wee patch of blue,
My Mordecai, my Bashar, my
Ivan, my Carlos, branches of
The same tree, so serious at
Fourteen.”
Soon another dream came over
Me, I dozed, drowsy and snug
In the arms of an unknown hero,
And I was wrapped in a frosted
Halo, when I was fourteen.
My halo was a gift from Phillip,
And it dripped so silently down
On the closet, on fire, holding
The me that I now behold in
The mirror.
I saw the shower and stood up
Proud, I saw the stage and
Remembered my lines, and
I was proud. I was the rose,
Nourished. And I was proud.
I danced and dreamed and was
Filled with courage, my chest
Popping with buttons, my head
Filled with melody and my
Shoes tapping in rhythm.
Today we went home to see
My mom, Phillip and I, and
She put her arms around us
And said “Welcome, boys,
I love you!”
When I was fourteen.
© Lewis Bosworth, 2014
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 8:28 PM UTC
When I Was Fourteen
I took a walk around the world
When I was fourteen.
A round-trip from the country
Of Florida to the province of
Friendship.
I broke out my camp gear on
The way to the sea of desire
And edged my way to the point
Of view.
When I was fourteen
I took gym class and failed
Showers.
The water lapped at my body,
Its steamy blows pelting my
Boyhood.
The jocks jeered at me ‘cause
I cried in shop class a lot
When I was fourteen.
The girls wore saddle shoes
With bobby sox and they
Liked me seeing as I could
Dance the jitterbug.
I loved the beat, the jiggling
Of my legs against my pants
And I learned to cope with
My feelings of trackless taunts.
I starred in a one-act play but
Forgot my lines
When I was fourteen.
I had a dream in the province
Of friendship that there was
A boy called little prince
Who nourished a rose.
Prince taught me that I would
Only see clearly with my heart
When I was fourteen.
A new boy came to school one
day and sat next to me at chorus
practice.
He gazed at me, his eyelashes
and lips detailed in copper, head
tipped back as though in trance
and pulled off his t-shirt.
I am here today because he was
There, nourishing me like prince’s
Rose, but with courage.
When I was fourteen
I met the gymnast of love, his
Daring glance, his feather touch,
Defiant, preaching counterpoint.
I tried to run away but his name
Kept Calling me back, like a
Birdsong: “Phillip,” it whispered,
“My name is Phillip.”
And I went to him, to his glance,
To his smile, to his arms, and
He sang to me, this boy named
Phillip:
“I know you, my little prince,
You are a wee patch of blue,
My Mordecai, my Bashar, my
Ivan, my Carlos, branches of
The same tree, so serious at
Fourteen.”
Soon another dream came over
Me, I dozed, drowsy and snug
In the arms of an unknown hero,
And I was wrapped in a frosted
Halo, when I was fourteen.
My halo was a gift from Phillip,
And it dripped so silently down
On the closet, on fire, holding
The me that I now behold in
The mirror.
I saw the shower and stood up
Proud, I saw the stage and
Remembered my lines, and
I was proud. I was the rose,
Nourished. And I was proud.
I danced and dreamed and was
Filled with courage, my chest
Popping with buttons, my head
Filled with melody and my
Shoes tapping in rhythm.
Today we went home to see
My mom, Phillip and I, and
She put her arms around us
And said “Welcome, boys,
I love you!”
When I was fourteen.
© Lewis Bosworth, 2014
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