Mother & Father

Everyone has different feelings and emotions toward their parents, being good or bad. I'd like to see from other individuals perspectives on how they feel about their parents. Good luck.

For My Father

We said farewell to my father
On a day of blue sky and sharp sunlight.
In the middle of a week of hard, grey rain
And cold January winds,
That day shone
Like the sudden opening of a bright, clear eye.

He was a man of wry, soldierly humour,
And when we parted on that cold, clean day
There was no raucous lamentation.
The sun etched black, bold shadows
Beneath the sprays of flowers
Blowing bright against the turned, dark soil.

He will be missed by friends and family;
Like most of us, his loss will not be mourned
By movements, states or governments;
He thought no more of them than they of him.
But the space he left, though small, will linger
In the minds of those his quiet journey touched.

      the bread we wouldn’t eat


my father was a loud, confused man.
how did it happen that he woke up one day
and had a wife and four kids
and a ton of responsibility?
how does it ever happen?

he walked around like a thunder cloud,
most often there was a storm in our house.

at the dinner table, the loaf of bread would
diminish to the heels, the end slices.
he would tell us, ‘eat it, it’s till good bread!’
we made faces like prunes, and whined:
‘I don’ wanna eat the heel!’

with his lightning tongue, he would respond
‘well, f*ck, then I’ll eat it!’

my mother would calmly say, ‘would you watch your
language, please.’ she was a small woman, made
hard by the struggles that are common to mothers.

when he got sick, he became weak as a puppy.
my mother became a lion, as she cared for him
over his few remaining weeks.

after he died, there was an unfamiliar peace in the
house. we sensed there would never be another storm,
and it was uncomfortable.


the last time I went to his grave,
it was raining…

can they be older poems of just new?

Insecurities

the parenting laws of two people
married to each other
coming from different borders
the pull and push
their children to bits

she says nay he says yea
when they both say nay
their children grow away
better gone than dead
emotionally and spiritually

they don't understand
why their children left
ungrateful brats
wish they never had them

a smile through tears
bravery through insecurities
they have to learn it
from others not their parents.

Daddy


(Warning - Extreme [some explicit language])


dim memory of being a toddler
accidentally walking in on you
in the bathroom
hatred etched
on your angelic face

in high school I learned
to dress like the girls you wanted
heavy blue eyeliner and leather skirts
hoping you'd take me out
instead of them

always the waiting at the window
for lights beyond the curtains
all my life
sense of waiting at the window
for those impossible fairy lights

on visitations
the car interior stinking of cunt
and bourbon
angry meals where
I would say something wrong
fury in your eyes
trembling of your lips
as if we were never flesh and blood

baseball bats and nunchucks
under the passenger seat
while you waited for someone
to piss you off

ugly beauty
of your white karate uniform
horrid elegance
of those elongated, liquid dances
of simmering violence

stories of Vietnamese prostitutes
how you liked to bed your women
liked high heels and to watch
I was only eleven

why did you have to tell me
such things
why were you such the fetishist
when you hated our species all along

once you tried to hold me
innate terror I felt of you
how I paced circles around the room
to get away
finally crumpling to the floor
paralyzed with fear
my mind not remembering
but my body knowing all along

no not molestation
nothing so intimate
one therapist claimed it was
a remembrance of abuse
towards Mom

how you reacted
operatic in your usual aria
of anger

when you admitted
you were a predator
before words like that even existed

later in my life
how you hated fat women
I had grown plump
you couldn't bear to look at me

worst of all
in me
men with effeminate faces
drugs
like you in a different skin

searching for black
hair
eyes
circles

oh I've outdone you
I'm not Daddy's Little Girl

I'm your bitch

http://i1317.photobucket.com/albums/t623/curlycue23/2_zpsb15fd57d.png


Alone On Christmas

See the lights?
See the tree?

I have everything
Up for Christmas

But I have
No family

No children
To open presents

Nor a wife
To be near

An aging bachelor
My fate is loneliness

But give me no pity
For on Christmas Eve

The spirits of my
Departed Mom & Dad

Will be here
And celebrate with me

Real Monsters



The devotion is assumed
because nature and everything right says so
in spite of the hints and whispers
pushed to the back corners of closets
like dust

a mothers love is deepest
despite all cries to the contrary
it's hard accepting anything else
contradictory to all we're taught  

so
them that know evil can reproduce
accept it no easier
and live with the burden of proof
always at their feet

deprived of even simple validation

having looked behind the curtain
at
the ones who see nothing and question less
but know it all
and will swear it til their last breaths

some know the monsters aren't in the darkness
under beds or in nightmares
they're just a room or three away
and daylight is the time for the scared to hide
while the front is upheld in suburbia

some think of
a look that promises pain
of betrayal that knocks the lungs flat with subtlety  
behind a smile that inspires chills
of
an enemy that has sworn to protect
and won't stop hurting
some think of
monsters
and are reminded of their mothers

some hope to be found by strangers
abducted to never return

some of us shouted into the abyss
begging to be swallowed up

How do I post my poem ?

Wrote this when I was 18 I am 28 now.

Dear Father,

You were suppose to be there for me
Not leaving me without knowing me
Build a relationship no one can tear
Share laughs no one can share
Shed tears no one can shed
I'm suppose to say I hate you and slam my door
Not you closing the door on us
You suppose to be my protector my hero
We suppose to have so many memories
Yet we have none
Only the pictures of a face I never saw
You wrote to me inô 2001 when u had no one
You were locked up and to spite the past I was there
You came out and where are you now
You promised me dreams and I believed them
Because for that moment I had a father
As quick has the dreams came they lifted even faster
You suppose to be there for my graduations but yet you miss those too
You suppose to protect me from boys but I'm on my own with that also
Where are you? Why you not here with me? Giving me the love only a father can give
Its been 18 years still no show
I wrote to you, called you, visited family for you but yet nothing
What more can I do to show you that I at lease want to meet you
I can't do much more but you can
So into you find me I will continue writing Dear Father .....

-del-

Thanks for the nod and for hosting, Khy. Really great theme. Congrats to Ceejay and Vishal, excellent work!