Baggage:

The clock face stares back
As I wait.
The seconds drag, yet steal my precious time.
As I wait.
As I wait.

The life of an estranged father
Is tangled with guilt.

Competing affections of
A new love, a new life
A child not of my loins.

A smiling child hungry for affection,
Stomach rumbling in anticipation
Of a new love
A new life.

Will time ease the guilt I feel towards my own?
Will time make affection come more naturally?
For the seconds steal my precious time.
As I wait
As I wait.

But the clock never gives.
Just takes.
Just takes.

And now the time has come to bond with my own
And I await her arrival.
My stomach rumbling in knots of guilt
As I wait.
As I wait.

Her smiling face,
Her loose pony tails,
Her childish wit and exuberance
Wash the knot loose

And we laugh.
And we laugh.

Her giggles ignite in me a love that is not surrogate.

One so small yet strong enough to lift me higher than anyone can.
Strong enough to lift me.
To lift me.




Our time together precious
Stolen by the clock
As the seconds race away
Like falling water lost in the rapids
Water that I can never taste again.

And we play.
And we play.

Until the clock has stolen the time we had.
Until her giggles turn to goodbyes.

Like the rapids she rushes on,
Never looking back.

Takes for granted that goodbye kiss that she forces
When reminded.

A tidal wave of fun that leaves silence in her wake.

And my stomach knots with guilt.

As I sigh.
As I sigh.

As I turn back,
To my new life.
To my new love.

As I turn back
But never turning my back on the giggles in the memory of my heart.

The life of an estranged father
Is tangled with guilt.

A carousel full of cases,
Travel worn
And bursting with guilt
Awaiting collection from Terminal Three
By me.

So I’ll drag behind me my cases.
To Terminal Two
Where I try to offload them to you.

But you have some too.

So together we drag our cases.
Together we carry our knots.

With some sideways movements but little progress.

And we wait
And we wait
And we wait.

Darren, this is a very important poem, and timely (pardon the pun).
There is so much research now about the importance of fathers in their children's lives, and a recognition of the difficulties. I love the fact that you juxtapose the stepdad/child dilemma and the birth-child guilt that is so difficult and little understood.
I particularly liked these lines:

A carousel full of cases,
Travel worn
And bursting with guilt

Thank you and well done.

Hi Darren - A very intense poem. I could feel your emotion with every syllable. There is nothing synthetic about your writing style, it comes right from the heart. I'm sure some readers will have an empathy with what you have written. The imagery and the metaphors used are used to good effect, but I couldn't help but think that it may have been maybe a stanza or two too long? Once we have been told, as a reader or allowed to make an image about something, the last thing that our imagination needs is a similar image or a repetition UNLESS it's used to reinforce. I think you're on the right track with the first two thirds of this piece, but it 'felt' that it was diluting towards the end - its balance seemed a little disjointed. This has though the potential to be a brilliant piece at the moment it's just simply 'fantastic'.