Your photo
sends me back thirty years.
In your place,
I see your old man:
his suspicious eye
pot belly
and bald head.
He was nearly eighty
and always angry.
You hardly look younger
with your belly and baldness,
and you’re wearing
his discontent
like an inherited suit.
It’s ageing you more
than your years are.
That should be a wakeup call for Somebody! I like it.
😉
I’m glad you like it!
Oi Shawn, stop looking at me that way.
xxx Huge Hugs xxx
lol
Powerful piece, I can’t help but consider the impact my own father has had on me, and how often I wear his flaws as completely as my own, just as I wear both of our better qualities. Exceptionally written, as I’ve come to expect of your poetry, thank you for this.
You’re welcome Michael.
I appreciate your comments.
I do wonder how far back the traits go. When words come out of my mouth that came out of my mother’s mouth, could we have heard our great, great, great, great, great, great grandmother saying the same thing?
And it takes so long before we recognize that they’ve taken hold. I went to visit my father a few weeks ago, and it was all too similar to hanging out with a close friend. Almost uncomfortable if only because I saw so much of myself in him, sort of like a fun house mirror, there are distortions, but never any doubt that you’re looking at some form of yourself in the reflection.
Ah. There’s a poem there.
Hi, I like this poem–deceptively simple but says a lot. As a former English teacher, i can certainly relate to your comments about teaching — especially the idea of hiring someone else to mark papers! Thanks for following WordSisters.
My pleasure. Thanks for stopping in.
Like another commentator said, I always love how deceptively simple your poetry is. Lovely poem.
Thank you.
I like a lot. Very pointed, but beware the mirror.
?
Hi Shawn
I was looking for this piece (of prose) when I did my comment. I don’t know if you will like it or not. it seemed sort of relevant :
http://valourofahare.wordpress.com/2014/08/01/breakfast/
Nice. A little heavy on the adjectives, but it shows promise. Watch use of ‘genteel’ (adj); ‘gentility’ (n) is wanted there.
Anger sure does age a person
It does. All the negative energy comes out in unpleasant ways. I remember him being quite sarcastic as a teen. I guess this was the logical extension?
Speaking as a former purveyor of sarcasm, it sure does take an intentional switch to grow into someone soft instead of hard.
It’s logical. Sarcasm makes a good weapon when wits are what’s at hand.
Loved it. We are all headed there.
Thanks
Greetings Shawn, reading your poem, for me was descriptive. Meaning, speaking of someone you know. That is as far as I understood. After reading the comments that followers left, I wondered what did I miss? I thought more into it and said to myself, I would not want someone to describe me as becoming like my father or his father before him. My father doesn’t know who his father was. My father never showed me love although I got past that in time. He still is my father and I love him and told him so (he was not convincing with his reply) If it wasn’t for reading the comments, I would have thought of it as nice poem to email to my father. That wouldn’t go to well for him to read. It would open his past scars as it open mine. However, this is just to say that your poem can affect people in one way or another. Good memories of the old or the bad.
The meaning of any work is held by the reader. What it means to you might not be the same thing it means to me, or to another reader. That is the power of poetry. It connects to each person in a unique way.
Nicely done. I love the image of the inherited suit — so many layers of meaning there.
Thanks.