Poetry Blogs (Father)
The first time I saw you, your mouth held no words.
I would take you out and watch you marvel at the birds.
Your awkward waddle would bring me smiles.
There was peace in my life holding you as we walked for miles.
The screaming, the crying, the testing,
The laughing, the hugging, the learning.
As I helped you grow, and loved every moment.
Even the ones that involved your excrement.
Saturday 13th April 2019 9:19 pm
I was not there when he was made
I was not there when he was born
I was not there for his first birthday
I was, there to guide his first steps.
I was there when his mother voiced her disdane and pushed him away.
For the tantrums that felt eternal
The sick days that became my sick days
I was there as his father began a new family and forgot about his last.
When he had no food to...
Saturday 13th April 2019 3:21 am
I remember hearing my father's voice
from beyond the grave.
No dream—a single, scratchy vinyl
had captured his characteristic
lilting, homiletic style,
in and of itself,
to be the message—
no surprises there,
yet a resonance
and stays with me
Friday 5th April 2019 2:17 am
I see the opening of your mind's eye,
glittering like a starry sky.
Asking yourself, how high?
The iron will that says, I try.
Go my darling, you'll fly.
Full of joy, I cry.
The apple of your father's eye.
Wednesday 10th October 2018 11:16 pm
I'm afraid to have kids
What if they get my depression
Or fucking alcoholism?
What am I supposed to say to them?
Suck it up.
You'll soon find out,
Life just fucking sucks"
It's just not fair
To pass on an ongoing burden
To watch my kid suffer
Knowing that I can't relieve them
They're supposed to be protected
But I can't save them from themself
It just kill...
Friday 16th February 2018 5:22 pm
Life by Numbers
1. My father walks the sea-edge and is young, as a child is young.
2. My father's voice is hardwood, and timpan drums.
7. My father's eyes are tired.
16. The cyclone clouds hang swollen sheets above.
19. I am afraid.
20. I shall put fear at the bottom of depths the deep blue made.
25. My brothers' arms surround me.
31. We sit on the brim of laughter, an...
Saturday 25th November 2017 9:08 am
have you ever experienced
you question your beliefs?
I'm an atheist.
I don't believe in a god
or an afterlife
makes me wonder
if over the course of time
have been colliding
and that's why
is so natural
I'm not talking about something romantic
but something innocent
for he has touched my hea...
Monday 30th October 2017 6:57 am
no man should know
no child should hear:
to be spared.
as he sat with his sons at home
and struggled to find
she will never return to us
she is too ill
In a time when she was strong
as her body weake...
Wednesday 20th September 2017 3:36 pm
The clouds streak an arrow of neon green,
My shadow beneath,
Quivering in silence.
The sun, glistening through the holes in the patterns,
Showers its fluorescence across the earth below,
I stand in a section divided.
The sky is not yet Crimson in nature,
No, it sits still, below the stars, but above the trees,
How I remain stationary, though I sprint,
Monday 5th June 2017 5:53 pm
Note: there is some strong language in this. it's not too bad. it's not too excessive, either. one word in here twice, i think. and if you're wondering, yes, the colors mean something. and yes, im genuinely asking a question to you, the reader. and to the person this is about. but i pray he never reads or finds this. anyway, enjoy.
Am I selfish for wanting another hug?
I handed you the...
Sunday 23rd April 2017 4:54 pm
You were wearing purple today. Purple is going to be ×××'s color now. But blue has always been mine. That's how I knew I was ready to give you that letter. You were wearing my color...
Your eyes were a brighter blue today. After you came in from having a cigarette, you walked past me, then paused. Coffee and tobacco smoke. That's what you smelled like. That's my smell now.
"Just under a minu...
Sunday 23rd April 2017 4:45 am
The Father’s Curse
I am not the man you used to be
the acorn falling softly
in the shade of your tree
raising ungrateful sons
to their own prosperity
fighting a war
so that others could be free
the nurturing of potential
that you swore you couldn’t see
expected to take root
and share your ancient symmetry
being a loving father
when it wasn’t m...
Wednesday 19th April 2017 12:15 pm
Brass bullet casing
Flakes of tobacco
Grains of sand
Sepia tinted photograph
And pith helmets
And Pay book
Will not needed
Ink a faded blue
Monday 27th February 2017 5:04 pm
He left behind his broken wife and his scared son
He left us cold, all alone with no one
The vows, they meant nothing
The promises, broken
I just wish we meant something
More than just empty words spoken
I cried for days at a time
My young son wiped every tear
Leaving us was a crime
And now, it's been 1 year
Sunday 1st January 2017 11:32 pm
I am waiting for the day that you will show up at my door
With a flower for every birthday you missed.
Twenty-one flowers of vibrant colors—
Turquoise, violet, “tickled pink”—
They will spread their pedals in the warm spotlight
That will touch every inch of my cold, pale skin.
The features of my face will be illuminated.
I will no longer be the infant you left—
The life tha...
Saturday 24th September 2016 1:57 am
Blue Smoke Ghost
A matchbox scratch
A flare of light
The smell of sulphur
A yellow patch
Above his chair
On the ceiling
A row of pipes
Hung in a rack
And suck on shank
In the dusk
On a back step
In the ready-rub
From the c...
Friday 15th July 2016 7:43 pm
Look over there,
Sat in that comfy reclining chair,
Is a man so wise and strong,
With so much knowledge which was seldom wrong.
The way his eyes would sparkle when he laughed,
And his cheesy smile on all his photographs.
His daytime nap making a little snore,
Is he really asleep? I think as I open the door.
He was such a good old joker,
Yet kept a face as straight a...
Thursday 7th July 2016 12:02 pm
This make-believe story I predicted in my head,
To pieces upon the ground does it fall.
A happiness once experienced -
A security long gone,
And a father I had imagined -
Now a memory in which I had created.
But, the hurt inside is real -
All torn up, how does my heart continue to beat?
A trauma of the past -
Why must I remember what I wish not to?
Wednesday 6th July 2016 10:44 pm
The Bayonet In The Shed
He put it there in forty nine,
in a woodworm riddled drawer,
wrapped it in a greasy rag.
A remnant from the war.
On top of it he laid his medals,
nothing more was said
until the day my father
took the bayonet from the shed.
We had pestered many times
and he had said ‘perhaps’
when we asked him if he’d killed
any Krauts or any Ja...
Monday 16th May 2016 12:24 pm
I touch your cheek,
I'm surprised, it's cold.
I reach for your hand
for I need it to hold.
I look upon your face
that beamed and sparkled
as we loved and laughed,
wrestled and tickled.
Your face is so pallid,
the sparkle is gone,
no more to smile
at the hot summer sun.
Your hair neatly tended,
you lie there so still
as I try, with memories,...
Monday 29th June 2015 11:34 am
There was a man I knew,
not too close, not too far,
as a child he was there
to tend to my scars.
A man with a past,
of that I had no doubt,
a man, when provoked,
who knew how to shout.
A happy man
with a smile for all,
he'd always be there to
pick me up when I'd fall.
And though never far away,
we were never very close,
a sign of those times...
Sunday 17th May 2015 11:54 pm
seeing him that way,
but there is a failing,
something not the same,
although in looks
we are so similar.
The Prodigal returns
and sees his father,
straight of back
and stern of countenance,
falling to pieces.
The once proud frame -
as beautiful as always,
Monday 2nd March 2015 7:12 pm
Trisha M. Hopkins
Waiting for him, sitting in the car
Under the erie moonlight
Imagening what he'll do
Seing him in the distance, Seeing him in the night
His mind shouting "I'm going to get you!"
He sees himself going after the man
He sees himself dragging him, dragging, dragging
Tying the man up
Everything is so dim
Under the erie moonlight
Torching him almos...
Monday 9th February 2015 12:23 am
I sometimes find my Dad sitting next to me in my car
Not exactly him but some likeness, a vision from afar.
I can’t exactly see him clear
But either way it’s nice to have him near.
I sometimes find myself talking to my Dad,
Sitting next to me, in my car
It’s good to talk after all these years and I suppose he’s not really there
But it feels so good, so I don’t really care...
Monday 1st December 2014 12:40 am
There’s a floor called race and a home called blood,
it can be what forms you.
It can be what clothes you, what warms you as it flows through your body,
a rich honey providing brotherhood, relation, family and love -
bonds of pride which cartwheel through your body.
I have a mystery and in my father lies the clues.
I had droplets of speciality, uniqueness, distinction, excitement...
Saturday 29th November 2014 10:59 pm
She was born from a parent
who left her at a young age
to be raised by a monster.
This monster created
such fear and depression
for this poor young girl.
The monster she feared
was there everyday waiting
for when she got home
or for when she woke.
The monster she didn't love
broken her down far too much
that even a thought of it
or the thought of being home
would make her panic.
Friday 28th November 2014 4:58 pm
The following is a dream. In a small way I hope the ending comes true
My Mother, Sister, Brother and I check into a hotel room.
When we enter the room my Dad who passed away
almost five years ago is sitting on the bed.
We ask, "Daddy why are you here?" He says "I wanted to
see my family." We are overcome with emotion and hug
him. We are all talking at once.
Friday 21st November 2014 2:47 am
I always liked the jacket my Dad wore.
One day I found it
Hanging lonely and forlorn
In a wardrobe
And I thought of him and me
And remembered he was a bigger man than me
I tried the jacket on
And felt him close once again
I always liked the little pocket for a watch and chain
But to my dismay the jacket didn’t fit, not at all
It was too small
Though he was a b...
Monday 25th November 2013 9:26 pm
Friday 1st November 2013 12:01 am
His whistle echo's
The memories of my mind
Really miss my dad
Friday 7th June 2013 4:32 pm
Another attempt at my paternal tongue.
Un altro tentativo di mia lingua paterna.
And though I beam with pride as I'm learning.
E anche se mi fascio con orgoglio, come sto imparando.
I'm aware that translated, the metre is wrong.
Sono consapevole del fatto che tradotto, lo strumento è sbagliato.
But this language pulsates to my yearning.
Ma questo linguaggio puls...
Monday 8th April 2013 11:31 pm
For I will praise my father
for his giant frame
that once dwarfed me
as an oak tree
dwarfs a flower;
and for his big hands,
sure and strong,
and for the blue
sea secret of his eyes;
and I will praise him again
for the work he did
and the back
he bowed to feed me;
and more for the songs
he never sang,
and those he kept
Thursday 14th June 2012 12:09 pm
I miss your laughter.
I miss your face.
I miss your sweetness, the light of your ways.
I miss the beauty of your honesty, and the loveliness of your grace.
The grandness of your dignity, and the glory in your truth.
The strength that you gave me,
The honor in committment and nobility in life.
I thank you for showing me God.
The loosing you, cuts like a knife.
Wednesday 23rd May 2012 11:58 am
Poem For My Dad
In the deepest darkest recess of the mind
The saddest memory is there to find
There’s nothing more to say except I miss you Dad,
We had our time together, good and bad
And many differences, we had
After all, you were a man who got an apple and an orange for Christmas
And I was a lad who began the biggest record collection in th...
Sunday 26th February 2012 4:45 pm
I nervously tread past them
Glaring Haplessly at each and everyone of them
Wondering when it will come
When it will hit me
Like a bullet to the head
They turn around, and follow my presence
Staring through their anger fuelled eyes
Into my cold, lonely soul
I dare to hold that contact they crave
But I don't give it to them
The air is suffocated b...
Monday 5th April 2010 4:37 pm