poethree:the fatherhood poems:"to my father: senoir."

note: none of us are fathers but we are at an age where we may soon be. the subject is rife for poetry and so we present the fatherhood poems...

“To my father: senior.”
I had a dream about you last night
In it you gave me the keys to the kingdom
Some golden part of present-future history
In real life the things between us bleed and bleed
On separate roads
Of frost and cold
Is this fatherhood: having nothing from you on which to hold?

But I start with too much venom
I must remove myself from the picture
I am a son of too much expectation and not much sense
I should rejoice for you are alive and in good health
I hear you are in love in the present tense
So I sit with what remains of my innocence
The broken dreams of fantasy
I have my father, real and free
And I am his son
(Oh, goodness, me...)

So I had this dream about you
You gave me the word to withstand the wind
To calm storms and stand on water
To live a live that will not break or be altered
By the visions of broken men
By the tyranny of ignorance and a refusal to bend
Or to repent
Why did you come to me in dreams?
I am afraid of what you might mean
Is it that obvious that I am failing at life?
Too lustful, too angry, too full of my-self?
Too needy? Too hateful? Too prudent and unkempt?
Too safe? Too lazy? Too new to be old?
Not enough wisdom to give or to hold

What did you mean when you said: “live right, live right now.”?

I know, I know
I see what you mean
Like the day you came to my room
And told me to not lie
Not with word but in act and in deed
You were everything about fatherhood in that one moment
And, liar like me, it took me years to know
That dishonesty was not my nature
But my habit
And this is your success that I Can lie no more
Truth eats inside me, forcing its way out
I was a boy and now I am something else
And now you come with new dreams in the night
With a new manifesto for living in the light
So, I follow, I follow, I make my way there
I have a mountain of troubles but you have been fair
And told me my problems are not where to hide
And they do not absolve me of the responsibility to be right
So you have your legacy
In the things that you said to me
And I would make you proud to see
That your words have made in me
A thorough desire to live
On streets of brass that breaks
And copper that shakes
On humble street
Down lesson road
Where I can learn to be
The name you gave to me.
Thank you father, senior, master of my immediate race
I bow to you as I walk toward fatherhood
In perfection, in imperfection
In voice and in flute
I have a good father and I am waiting to be good, better, my sons -the best
At fatherhood.