William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Childhood’

Between Memories

It would be wrong to characterize my childhood as anything but enchanted. To do so may seem like a combination of denial and choice, but my memory of those days is clear enough that I still feel it’s true. And while I don’t remember what happened between each individual memory, I clearly recall the daily rhythm and atmosphere, my awareness of the passing seasons, flowers blooming around the house, the […]

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The Best of the Best

What grew in me without my knowing, what crept stealthily into my burgeoning little boy’s identity and went unrecognized for years, was a keen sense of competition. The expectation, need, and desire to be the best was administered in tiny doses without their knowing by family, friends, acquaintances, and teachers. The best reader, the best speller, the best runner, the best at throwing or kicking a ball — the process […]

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Holy Torment

Once I realized I would live forever, I forgot all about it. Truth be told, if in my life there’s a common theme, it’s that almost without exception, whatever flash of insight I have, or feel I have, I forget within a day or two. And so it might be said that my present understanding is an accumulation of inspired residue dating back to childhood, those tiny bits which, against […]

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Everything Everywhere

One day, at a very early age, I reached the conclusion that I would live forever. I remember saying to myself on that occasion, in all simple certainty, I cannot die. It was a revelation, not a plea, one which arose not from long deliberation or fear, but from the earth itself, and seemed to emanate from the palm of my upheld hand. This startling new truth was borne out […]

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Another Mother

After my hospital adventure, I wasn’t able to go back to school right away. But the time finally came when I was deemed strong enough to return to the classroom. The first day, instead of catching the morning bus to school, my mother took me in the early afternoon, after lunch and recess. It was story time. If I remember correctly, the teacher read to us, but we might also […]

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Poor George

When I was six, shortly before Halloween, our family doctor, who lived down the road from us and around the corner, stopped by our house and told my parents in his usual blunt way, “Well, your boy has leukemia.” He’d made this grim determination upon viewing the results of blood tests I’d been given after a strange rash had broken out on my arms. I spent the next ten days […]

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Trumpeter’s Choice

When I was in fifth grade, I learned to play the trumpet. It was easy. Each week, when the music teacher asked me to play the current lesson, I went through the lines without error. I didn’t practice. One or two times through at the beginning of the week was all I needed. When I was in sixth grade, it was the same. Finally, the time came for me and […]

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A Mob of Two

Saint that I am, I also shot a bullfrog. But I don’t remember if it was before or after I shot the sparrow. When I shot the sparrow, I was alone. When I shot the bullfrog, I was with the boy who lived down the road on the farm adjacent to ours. We both shot the bullfrog. I remember being sickened by it at the time. I knew it was […]

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Never a Soldier

More than fifty years later, I still think about the sparrow I shot and killed when I was a boy, and how, in one brutal, life-changing instant, it fell from our walnut tree and landed on the ground. Even now, I remember its tightly shut eyes and colorful feathers, which from a distance had seemed drab and gray, and the little grave I dug and placed it in. Thank goodness […]

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Teacher, Teacher (and a note)

We sat in rows in classrooms. We laughed and squirmed and raised our hands. Pretty girls, awkward boys. Pretty boys, boyish girls. Dervish whirls and eyes. Teacher, teacher, tell us true. You have seen us, bright and blue. We were meek and we were wise. You taught us, and we taught you. Some were lies, some were true. Teacher, teacher. Teacher, teacher, teacher. * I don’t resolve, but I do […]

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