Today's poet

[stevefoster]

That was unbelievable Freckle made me cry.

Lump in my throat, no tears, trying to be brave

[freckle]

Lump in my throat, no tears, trying to be brave

Thank you guys glad you appreciated it, I liked your offering Tri, very moving too, goodnight all.

[stevefoster]

Thank you guys glad you appreciated it, I liked your offering Tri, very moving too, goodnight all.

Goodnight freckle, all the best

[Stolly]

Evening all

I have read with interest all of the comments made about fathers tonight...my father died around 14 years ago when I was in my early twenties...he was a benign sort of fellow who I was not that particularly close to but would have liked the opportunity to get to know more as an adult...i think that would have been possible...

The first poem I ever wrote was about my father, I was in too minds about whether to put it up, but here goes...I found writing it a very emotional experience and it revealed to me the complex feelings that I had toward him...so for some it might be a difficult read...here goes...

My father, my father who are you?

Were you the tired, “old”,
broken man
who collapsed in “dad’s chair”
after a long day at work,
too tired for hugs,
too sad for conversation,
your true friend a bottle of Broon?

Were you the farting, drunken slob
who would always be late for Sunday lunch?
Making mam irritable,
breathing your alcohol breath over my little face
and saying “giz a kiss”?
Waking in the night to have the world’s longest piss.

Were you the loveable joker, “stealing” my nose for fun
or finding a coin behind my ear and calling me your blue eyes?
Us walking to the shop together,
you to get your beer and a treat of choccie for your little girl.

Were you your mammy’s blue eyed boy who could do no wrong?
Were you the frustrated artist whose eye for detail
constructed beautiful stain glass windows for a living
in some sort of concession, a resignation to the mundane,
to responsibility and deadness.

Were you the lonely twelve year old,
sitting upstairs in the public house with your dog Shep
(the name in fact of every dog you ever had),
lost in your isolation
while your parents ran the bar below
and paid off the POLICE.

Were you the eight year old who was evacuated
to an unfamiliar place, who was neglected
and whose baby sister died at the age of five,
who blamed himself somehow,
who was scared beyond words.

Were you the father, my father
who showed his tenderness in “good night, god bless”
and tucked me in with a sad ache in his huge eyes?

Were you the father who could not connect
with your own daughter for to do so
was to remember a loss too difficult to bear?

Were you the five stone skeletal shell,
ravaged by cancer, with a look of fear and dread upon you?
Then it was my turn to be scared and to not connect...

You, my father were all these things...I think...and I miss you.

Stunning freckle.

As a father of 20 and 15 year old daughters, a beautiful but sad reminder of how what you do and say and what don't do and say in normal life might be interpreted by your kids.

[freckle]

Evening all!

thanks for all the lovely comments about my poem...

and now for something completely different...

what have we been missing on here.....?

why pablo of course!...

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry,sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

Pablo Neruda

Aye...can't beat a bit of the ol pablo on a tuesday night!

[Hes]

hmmm...trying kind of day!

Determination

Wait not for dawn to break!
Keep scraping the bark
Even with your bare fingernails
Emerge it will -
The sun.

Darisanapriyan

[Hes]

Evening all!

thanks for all the lovely comments about my poem...

and now for something completely different...

what have we been missing on here.....?

why pablo of course!...

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry,sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

Pablo Neruda

Aye...can't beat a bit of the ol pablo on a tuesday night!

Thanks Freckle...I love Pablo...I have two shells from the shore in front of his house at La Isla Negra sat beside my bed.

[Harry H Howgill]

Evening all!

thanks for all the lovely comments about my poem...

and now for something completely different...

what have we been missing on here.....?

why pablo of course!...

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry,sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

Pablo Neruda

Aye...can't beat a bit of the ol pablo on a tuesday night!

Eee Pablo. I bet he was popular with the ladies! Unless he was all talk

Your poem was beautiful by the way, and really lovely to share it with us.

[freckle]

Thanks Freckle...I love Pablo...I have two shells from the shore in front of his house at La Isla Negra sat beside my bed.

Waaaaaaaaaaat?......Oooooo I am so envious!...i liked your poem about determination...i too have had a trying day, bumped car this morning (nothing serious but irritating!)....however as Ms angelou would say ..."still i rise!"

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/still-i-rise/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JqOqo50LSZ0

take care hes

[Harry H Howgill]

hmmm...trying kind of day!

Determination

Wait not for dawn to break!
Keep scraping the bark
Even with your bare fingernails
Emerge it will -
The sun.

Darisanapriyan

Stick with it Hes, it'll take you a while to find your equilibrium being back home from such a great adventure. That sun will rise!