What do fathers know?

nat-lipstadt Poems

~it feels good to keep a promise~ ~for AV~ <> my expertise is at the PhD. level for mine own experiments have been less than successful by the feedback periodically provided O & Co-vertly over forty years but a poem triggers, go figure! and making morn coffee, a task that teaches well, that doing the prep is essential, no shortcuts for which we spend/waste years looking for, and realize that’s a hint to settle in with a hot beverage, this feels like it’s a longy coming we know so much, most i m p o r t a n t l y, even how little we actually do comprehend, and that is importabt beyond belief, learning to choose counsel that should be allowed to pass under the bridge that filters the crapshoot crap that pretenses as smart and sound, that should be burnt & buried in an open pit so what do fathers know? - that finest firsts are so youthfully under loved, under appreciated, misperceived as endless, the flush the rush the the thrusting piercing of your composite composure practiced protective skin, cherish them firsts cause they don’t last because axiomatic that come lesser, fewer, with every wrinkled day, and sorry, time doesn’t make you bolder - luck is a lottery ticket, the odds preposterous against you, but we buy a ticket weekly because you thinking this time is your time, sorry, this lady sleeps around, a lot, a borderline ***** who never asks honey what’s your nane, because they are thinking ‘bout the next customer,you want it? you work for it, and that never ever ends, the odds against ya never improve - invest in discipline early and big time: later when it will be desperately needed, and twice as hard to obtain (can’t be bot, no matter how much moola you will inherit) and it make it habitual; and discipline is the entry card to unlocking the unknown, the exceptional adventure - thinking ‘know everything’ is a giant no-no; this body of knowledge you think you’ve earned by being learned, is not as valuable as one might think (or feel) cause knowledge is like a breeze, on its way to somewhere else, the cooling skin it leaves in its wake, cools too quickly and when you whine “I know” think this *”I no NOthing” - that fathers oft say little, wordily, so keep an eye out for a raised eyebrow l, a crinkling around the eyes, a wrinkling nose, they be clues meaning ask me more, later, when we deux can pas alone -peace of mind is like watching waves coming in; ithey are long in the forming and faster in dissolving, they arrive piecemeal but they keep on coming in different shapes, from different places, but they do keep a-coming and their power, (erosion) is the result of thousands individual moments, additive, so you get pieces, thru the unconscious habit of accumulation /\ here I’ll pause to preach makes a father thirsty a fresh cuppa seems highly desirable oh yeah, warmth can be received from blankets, expensive ski jackets, wooly socks, but its best when freely created from within, worn as you own & owned creation, a reward for being wide open ready,willing & able one more thing: find the best addiction that bests you, that thing will live within forever, like writing poetry? 😉 so what do fathers know? *a lot, too little, never enough, sometimes too much, mostly good, some awful, just ask find out wonder who will be more surprised when you do*