?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

A glimpse into book three

I thought I'd post a poem I wrote that gives you a glimpse into growing up with my father. It was published in the poetry anthology, Mind Mutations, last year. Publisher-The Sun Rising Poetry Press

MY FATHER

Why did you always look at me
that way? Your green eyes piecing
in the morning
light with hate that seemed
to radiate from your soul?

My longing for approval tossed
casually aside like cigarette butts
from a passing motorist that litters
the road. You forced my touch

on you, everyday, but never
did I hear those words,
those words never a part
of your burned, hollow shell.

Hate remained your master,
control your god. Now you shift
as blackened sand in an unnamed
universe, blown into oblivion.

Sadness waters your grave; loss
your epitaph.

Comments

( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
robinellen
Jan. 7th, 2007 04:05 pm (UTC)
That's a powerful poem...I'm sorry you didn't feelt the warmth and protection a father is supposed to offer -- I suppose the good news is that you will make doubly sure your son never feels like you did! Blessings, Kim!
jennifer_d_g
Jan. 7th, 2007 05:09 pm (UTC)
Oh, Kim, how sad. How heartbreaking for little-girl you. And for big-girl you too. Do you have any answers at all as to why he was a burned, hollow shell?

I do hope you're okay.

Jennifer
kbaccellia
Jan. 7th, 2007 08:27 pm (UTC)
Yes, I do now. But it wasn't until after his death that I approached my mother and asked if he was bipolar and she replied, "yes." My father refused treatment as he'd seen a number of his relatives end up in either instititions or worse--kill themselves. No one in my family talked about the illness. I no longer feel hatred toward my father. I only feel a great sadness for him. Sadness that he could have been helped if only he'd sought treatment.
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )