so in discussion i told prettiest *Pyke* that im going to start putting some of my poetry up...telling her that im a bit aprehensive, but here we go,here it starts...this first one being a story of my life and very dear to me...
In Biology
sitting one school day,in Biology,in class
at my empty expectant desk of wood
placed to me,by others
an essay,now
required "the importance of genetics in society"
i must write
what i know
of this.
i look around the room;
i see the jarred snakes,the skulls,the specimens' bones
shells and feathers
all dead,we must learn from the dead
i see a family of pigeons
fluttering about the window sill
happy;order
and all i could write
was just what i needed to say
in the last
and only
letter to my father
of feather,flown away
im holding onto a mere feather
hands in empty pockets,forever,standing there
it cost,this loss
But i put it in my cap
because i know
that you are better
better than the this,and the that
and the turmoil
of weather,and whether
i ever lay eyes or words of hurt
upon you again,i still
would like to know...
if the biological beginning,of me
was in fact,for you
The End?
(75 words)
In Biology
sitting one school day,in Biology,in class
at my empty expectant desk of wood
placed to me,by others
an essay,now
required "the importance of genetics in society"
i must write
what i know
of this.
i look around the room;
i see the jarred snakes,the skulls,the specimens' bones
shells and feathers
all dead,we must learn from the dead
i see a family of pigeons
fluttering about the window sill
happy;order
and all i could write
was just what i needed to say
in the last
and only
letter to my father
of feather,flown away
im holding onto a mere feather
hands in empty pockets,forever,standing there
it cost,this loss
But i put it in my cap
because i know
that you are better
better than the this,and the that
and the turmoil
of weather,and whether
i ever lay eyes or words of hurt
upon you again,i still
would like to know...
if the biological beginning,of me
was in fact,for you
The End?
(75 words)
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
There's more than one way to read it, but what I'm getting is reflection on an absent father - yours? Of course father is as often metaphorical but, given your topic, I think not.
There is a popular misconception that men are somehow less nurturing than women, but I find it to be categorically untrue. It manifests differently, but not less. When feeling inadequate, sometimes a man will feel he serves best by his absence. That's usually untrue an well, but common. And if he's alive - ambiguous in the poem - whether he admits it or not, he probably thinks about you every day and loathes himself for his failings. That's a beginning.
You're giving me a brain boner. Post some more poetry.