Recall of the childhood thrill
Mind cast back to combats of youth
Sat across the kitchen table,
The decorator’s tea my opponent’s constant companion
I saw it as soon as I moved in
Little did I want to be there at all
Recognition outside had brought me here
To this temporary shop of a thing
Delaying frustratingly my much cherished Sunday lunch
Little was I prepared for this happening of personal enormity
Best do my best to play down all
Behave as if an irritation mild
Do my utmost to be polite and caring
Once the moment presented itself
I cast a furtive glance
My stoic look hiding a gurgling within
Had I stumbled across the object of my dreams
‘Can’t stay long, must be off, admirable your intent
How long has this been going on
This charitable cause of yours
Damn splendid if you ask me.’
‘Just as a matter of interest
How did that thing happen to be here?
Seems out of sorts amongst the clips, the pebbles, the total affray
Does it have a price at all?’
‘Mind if I take it to the light
See if it is of value at all
Bit junky if you ask me
But will check it out as matter of fact.’
‘I know you are set to close, sorry to have passed by and delayed all
I’ll tell you what we’ll do
Just to help out the cause
I’ll offer you a euro or two and then we’ll be off home.’
‘Thank you for your kind consideration sir
This sale was long overdue
All we’re trying to do
Is benefit a needy cause.’
‘Right then, let’s not delay
I’ll fork out twenty and the deal shall be done
Wrap it up if you would
Can’t be seen carrying anything dud.’
,
‘Farewell, buon appetito, and good luck with charitable cause.’
I did do my best not to frown, not to exaggerate my feigned irritation
Slipped out lightly did I, suppressing a spring in my step
Clinging tight as I possibly could
The chess set of my childhood dream
Personal take
This one of those poems which has an object, a possession, as the centre of attention and the importance of and relationship with is paramount. It is as if the inanimate has a particular pull and we are inexorably drawn to it. I must confess, if any confession be need that is, that I have had a fascination with chess since a relatively young age. I must have been 8 when the decorator started coming to my house and in his tea breaks would rather upset my mother by taking longer than usual to wind down between papering one wall and another, he having found in me a willing partner to learn the wonders of the game. As an aside I relate that I went on to be a City Junior Champion (Liverpool for the record) and win a few prestigious awards but did not fare half as well as his other pupil – his daughter going on to be a World Grand Master. Back to the poem itself. It is based on familiar experience of those chance moments when one comes across what one has been seeking out for a while and in the most unexpected circumstances it appears. The poem looks to build up the tension and not disclose the ‘object of one’s desire’ until the very end. To do so the techniques employed are those of dialogue, of subterfuge, of personal reflection and tale of growing anxiety. It is amazing how we humans try to hide our intentions, how we are capable of adopting an approach, a language, a behaviour, so as to seek to get the best most economical deal for ourselves. Here it is on the relatively trivial level of a second-hand charity shop – perhaps the drama encountered is part of the very thrill – we honing in on an elusive thing and not wishing to spoil the moment or indeed spend more than the necessary to secure our prize, even if we would probably be prepared to spend ten times more to have what we so desperately desired. Think of occasions yourself when you have behaved in such manner.