My Dad Looks Good in Black

NNE.... got it.


Joe(what have I got>)Nation

And rightfully so, Barbarians!

gus learned well from his ancestors. It must be in the genes.

Thank you for this thread, Joe.

It has brought up a lot of memories. Some good, some painful. Actually, more painful for me, but good just the same. (Hope that makes sense.)

Thank you Joe. Really enjoyed reading this story.
It stirred up memories of my own father, who passed when I was 14.
Sometimes I fear and feel sad because I feel like I am forgetting the details of his presence. I have trouble remembering the sound of his voice, the jokes he told, the way he would move.
This story was comforting, in a way. It reminded me that though some memories have faded, I will never forget his spirit. I don't need to feel badly.

yes.

Joe(Oh yes.)Nation

I don't want to make this thread about me, but I want to add one more thing. I never accepted my step father as a father figure, for reasons we need not dwell upon. So, essentially fatherless at age 18, I discovered Philip Wylie's books, Generation of Vipers, Opus 21, An Essay on Morals, The Answer. I felt they spoke so personally to me, I adopted the man for my very own father figure. He was not replaced by my real father until some un-noted time during the past decade.

edgar, I never had a father-figure, because mine died when I was two year old. My stepfather was a very mean person that treated his step-children badly, and treated his own with generosity. I've forgiven him very early in my life when I learned that hating him hurt me more than it hurt him.

Good going, CI.

I don't know what this thread is about except fathers and after-fathers and being fathered and fatherless and finding fatherness where there wasn't any or couldn't be any anymore. And now CI has brought in the greatest gift anyone could oneself...all because a crow perched on a mound of sand.

Joe(Everyone, go look up Philip Wylie.)Nation

This thread has inspired my first poem for quite a while. I suppose it is for anyone who missed out on a dad - or who misses the dad they had.

Thanks for the encouragement to post it, Joe.
Here it is.


Father and Son


I watch them
Father and son
Skimming stones
Down near the black tar surf
While searching
For the brightest pebbles
To take home in their pockets

A grey sky
Whipped by high wind
Carries cold
Promise of heavy rain
And seagulls
Caught in their own trial
Tumble below the dark clouds

The boy runs
Laughing freely,
Dodges Dad
Then smiles with cheerful pride
And hand claps
As he is lifted
High up on a broad shoulder

Then the rain…
Mist over land
Deserted
As the rising waves crash
To the shore
I sit in the dunes
With the boy's fading laughter


Endymion 2006

Sorry Joe
I think I might have poisoned the water hole with that one!

I was really moved by the stuff I'd read here. Wish there was more, really.
Don't mind me, fellas I was just passing through.

endymion
Don't sell yourself short. That was good and accomplished its purpose very well. I just think most of us had already had our say by the time you posted. I didn't see it until just now.

What are you talking about? Sometimes people don't see new posts. I sometimes wish there could be a way to put a big !LOOK AT THIS! on the new posts page.

Meanwhile... your poem captures a moment for all of us.

Joe(the boy's laughs and handclaps -- nice)Nation

sorry folks - I never think to use the bloody
Or the :wink:

Maybe I've got a twisted sense of humour

Anyway, I wasn't feeling pissed off (or even pissed) when I posted the last
I posted that poem simply because I was moved to write it by what I'd read here - I wasn't looking for feedback on it, seriously.
I was hoping to hear more from others

I admit that I might have been a bit paranoid - that I'd somehow offended everyone and messed up Joes great thread! Didn't want you to think I was trying to 'make it about me' - the passing through bit was meant to reassure.

Anyway, hope we get to hear more thoughts,

Endy

ENDY. I just saw this now. I love seeing your work. I always smile when I see you around, you so inspire me.

I have feared writing this last while. A good while. This poem is not good in itself, but I want to post it anyways. I have not written about my dad since I was a teen, and those were few and far. One day it will all come, and yet for now I felt moved to write something. A touch on one of my strong places that I feel will need to be written about soon.

..........................................
Papa

"Je t'adore"
Don't laugh, daddy.
I wasn't trying to tell a joke.

Sitting on the fence,
invisible in shiny dress

papa is home!

He's bought another car?!
the best car!
full leather interior and reading lights
a tape player and CHROME.
chrrrrrome, chou, chrrrrome!

My papa fixes bridges
he climbs like a monkey
he's laughing up there, up there
haha! your daddy doesn't do that
your daddy doesn't smell like grease?

We've seen bad streets
we eat on the grass if we want to
nice men give daddy bibles,
nice women give him smiles.
I've got my own helmet purple,
we're only going out before supper,
He's got his own leather full,
ahh, no need to make it home for supper.

He is painting on my walls
I've drawn my map my characters
he's doing mache at the table
wears cologne when he's alone.

Papa will take you to all those wild places
he'll take you home and talk you to sleep.

Je t'adore, papa
I'll see ya on the road.
......................................

Like I said, it's a touch. My papa lives on the road. Always. He's everywhere I'm going to.

This is good, flushd

Each line is a scene from a movie.

Joe(watching)Nation

Thanks for sharing your poem with us, Flushd
I like it's vibrancy - you've captured so well the way a child see things.

Please do write more.

Endy