deepundergroundpoetry.com
Remnants Are Spaces
My father passed
and yet -
His
Boots remained,
intact -
built
to
last:
Stationary
in
a
way
He never was,
Like,
a marker
that
He
Was
How
he
was,
Was
Who
he
was.
Published 10th Sep 2021
Author's Note
... I have been seeing a few poems about boots, and was inspired to write this.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 2
comments 6
reads 293
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
10th Sep 2021 3:41pm
dear CO ZS
this has the fine feel of a performance piece
do you perhaps have a recording ?
a warm smile
silent lotus
this has the fine feel of a performance piece
do you perhaps have a recording ?
a warm smile
silent lotus
12th Sep 2021 10:02am
Thank you SL.
I deeply appreciate your perspective.
... I do not have a recording but you make me think.
warm smile in return.
:)))
I deeply appreciate your perspective.
... I do not have a recording but you make me think.
warm smile in return.
:)))
I am so partial and so so sensitive to a personal write that pauses and reflects upon a father who's passed.... I am intrigued by your focus on his boots and the potential story behind them.... Which is a tribute to how you've wonderfully penned your ink, ... leaving me wanting more....
Nicely done, C
🌹 - 💙
B
Nicely done, C
🌹 - 💙
B
12th Sep 2021 10:04am
10th Sep 2021 11:13pm
Dear CO,
Outstanding poem. This rather reminds me of my father. He is who he is. The loneliness of the relationship is felt so keenly throughout the write. The formatting also lends itself like a trail of cigarette smoke that billows into the air and disappears. You can see it but it vaporizes so quickly. Some folks have that same persona.
The picture is the clincher. After keeping it together for the read looking up to the photo…forget it…flood gates were opened and gushing tears were unstoppable.
Very touching write. H🌷
Outstanding poem. This rather reminds me of my father. He is who he is. The loneliness of the relationship is felt so keenly throughout the write. The formatting also lends itself like a trail of cigarette smoke that billows into the air and disappears. You can see it but it vaporizes so quickly. Some folks have that same persona.
The picture is the clincher. After keeping it together for the read looking up to the photo…forget it…flood gates were opened and gushing tears were unstoppable.
Very touching write. H🌷
12th Sep 2021 10:04am
You are a beautiful soul H.
... Very much dear to my heart and soul.
Thank you.
... Very much dear to my heart and soul.
Thank you.
