Now, cast your mind back to your own childhood and write a poem about something that scared you – or was used to scare you – and which still haunts you (if only a little bit) today.
2 minutes 9 seconds reading time
Tata Duende is the Mayan name of a powerful, mischievous
spirit that appears in folklore stories, mainly in Mayan and
Mestizo cultures.
A Grandfather Goblin referred to as
Nukux Tat in some countries.
In my native Belize, I knew him exclusively as Tata Duende
and Tata stories were our devious favorite.
Done battling the heat of the day,
tummies full, bathed, and with hours ’till bed
Tio would call out to my siblings and me,
and the hood kids with whom we’d stitched
the lazy sunlight hours together.
At Tio’s verandah, the breeze was cool,
the stars were near; clothed in radiance
we’d gather to sing or play docile games
but mostly to stare at the black abyss
and often to engage Tio in story hour.
He’d start with Anansi stories,
Siren stories, or Sisimito— stories with morals.
We nodded thoughtfully at some, laughed at others,
and sometimes even asked him to repeat…
Ah, but he was a smart one; Tio was
and knew to time our favorite for last
to send us running home with goosebumps
“There are only a few who’ve seen him,” my uncle began.
“They describe him as only three feet tall, like so.” He’d show us.
Tall as one of us, usually the child standing ready to dash home.
“Stump built,
“Hairy body,
“Ugly mean face.”
Uncle made the ugliest mean face. We gasped.
“His feet point backward,” Tio was sure!
And, there was that time Tio put two of the big boys
to stand back to back so we could see those back-pointing feet up close.
We looked, eyes bulging!
“And his hands have no thumbs!
“He lives deep in the forest…
“And when near, you can recognize his closeness by the fragrance of a
rare flower, Lady of the Night.”
And Tio would tell us that if we heard a whistle near, the spiritual creature
was still far away. Ah! We nodded and relaxed then.
“But what if we hear a whistle far, far away?” someone brave always asked.
“Well,” Tio would say, scratching his head and looking around him nervously,
“that would mean Tata was….”
Oh, Sheesh! Here’s where this scaredy-cat got goosebumps — as that distant
whistle meant Tata was inches away.
Yes, I did— heard the distant whistle, smelled the fragrant flower.
Then, Swoosh!
We dispersed in all directions like the ribs of the umbrella branches of the
Ceiba Tree, which the Mayas believed, reached out to the thirteen corners
of the cosmos.
We never found out how close Tata came — Belizean kids are not stupid.
We ran home fast! And the goosebumps carried over to the following day.
Which was good considering no one had air conditioners to turn on then.
Oh, my childhood! I loved those goosebumps and the stories that
brought them on.
Dear reader, if you ever hear a whistle as you roam the jungles in Belize,
hide your thumbs, as that’s the only way to fool the mischievous little man
into believing you’re just one like him.
He’ll spare you then, and your horse will not get its tail braided into a
tangled mess that you’d have to cut. Trust me on this one.
© selma
A postage stamp.
Notice his feet.
This file is licensed under the Creative Commons
Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.
And for further reading, check out this Medium post by Anel Ryan on this very topic.
She and her husband know a lot from experience about this spiritual creature.
“Be very afraid,” says Anel.
Thanks so much for reading, and happy national poetry writing month.
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What an interesting story Selma.
Yes, I always thought it was scary interesting. It scared me, but we loved the goosebumps more. hehe. Thanks, Sadje. I bless you. xoxo
Now, I must listen for a whistle, just in case Tata Duende has decided to take a vacation. Wonderful story.
See, I told you I was tangled up with things. I am tangled still. Kathryn thanks for reading. You better listen well. Remember, a far whistle = close// a close whistle = far. And in any case, hide your thumbs, my pretty. I bless you. Good night. xoxo
Wonderful memory! I love that Tata Duende’s feet point backward.
Tata Duende and his backward pointing feet. hehe. Thanks for honoring with a comment. Stay sweet wherever you may be. xoxo
Wow, so good! I love how we are the audience and so are the kids.
Rubarb, thanks for seeing it from that precise angle. What lovely eyes you have. Yes, that’s how I like you to see this folklore tale of Tata Duende. (forgive the tardy response) Blessings. xoxo
Loved it, Selma! You did a great job with today’s prompt!
Yvette M Calleiro 🙂
http://yvettemcalleiro.blogspot.com
Yve, my Tata Duende story made me smile too. I’m so happy you thought it was good for this prompt. I never know wht I’m doing. And please forgive my late response. You are the best for visiting and leaving me comments. Please don’t stop. I need such encouragement. Thanks. I will go visit you now. Just for a minute, and then it’s lights out for me. xoxo
Reading this poem turned me into that little child who can’t have enough of the story despite her instincts telling her to run and hide. Thank you for painting such a vivid picture of Belize. Loved it.
Arti, forgive my late response. There just aren’t enough hours in the days sometimes. I’m glad you enjoyed reading my scary Tata Duende story. hope it wasn’t too scary for you. I bless you. Stay sweet. xoxo
I like how the form morphs into something more prose-like as the horror amps up. Also like “the hood kids with whom we’d stitched / the lazy sunlight hours together.”
Sincere gratitude. Blessings.
Thanks for the warning Selma! (K)
You’ve been warned. 😜
What a wonderful composition, a reminder to revisit some of our imaginative childhood memories. Thanks for sharing Selma! 🥰💖🤗
I’m delighted you enjoyed this retelling of a folklore that really made me sweat cold. hehe. Those were priceless days. Be well, Kym. Blessing you from across the ocean. xoxo Good night.
Oh my dear Selma, you are so very welcome my friend. Ruminations of the past are always a delight to revisit when it propels us to an incredible future! BTW, where are you located? It’s morning here. Stay well my dear. 🤗💖😘
The picture on the stamp looks pretty foreboding! I enjoyed your nostalgic account, Selma! Very interesting. <3
Cheryl, sweet Cheryl. Please overlook the tardy response. I just want to say thanks so much for lending me your lovely support, my sweet friend. Glad you read this nostalgic account of something that happened a very long time ago. I think about that and smile. Bless you, my friend. Hope all’s good in your corner. Stay sweet. I’ll visit you soon. Not tonight but soon. xo
Scary fun! I found this tidbit enchanting: “We dispersed in all directions like the ribs of the umbrella branches of the
Ceiba Tree, which the Mayas believed, reached out to the thirteen corners of the cosmos.” It’s funny how a character only three feet tall could be so scary. Maybe he could sneak up on a person easier. Not me. I’m hiding my thumbs.
hehe, glad you liked that about the thirteen corners of the cosmos. A detail I like too. And you will do well for listening my precious: Hide your thumbs. xoxo
Wow. That is a wonderful poem and the back-story is great. 🙂
Pleases me to know you enjoyed that. Thanks so much, Bill, dear. Blessings.