When my door is been knocked
Food cooks over my prestige's stove
For you it’s business's ***** food
But in night my daughter doesn't sleep empty stomach
I am a *******, Sir!
Food is overpriced than my pride.

Every morning my body broke up with pain
His hand through my breast squeezes my heart
For you it’s necessary pain
But in morning my daughter goes to school
I am a *******, Sir!
Today's pain is bearable against her future.

Everyday i put darkness on my face
Dreams dress up on bed in the face of money
For you they are pieces of my soul
But my daughter fills colour in her book with it
I am a *******, Sir!
Her happiness is expensive than my body.

You bought the house with lavender
seeded in the front porch.
The scent flutters between the doorsill
and through the letterbox
like bills overdue and invoices outstanding. A postal aroma,
envelope glue smells like flowers to me.

I was never granted the privilege of rearranging flowers
You said, there was more to life than flora,
these emerald, sap dripping, saturated stems
Swelling petals fascinated under my untried eyes,
You said I must not even graze the things.

I longed for a taste of the forbidden flora.
Did buds taste like honey? Were they sour like you told me?
Would they poison these supple
and innocent lips, turn them pink to grey?
Could tastebuds kiss the perennial vines,
the posies, the spray of efflorescence
A taste of simple sweetness -

I remember when you ripped the front-porch-lavender.
The roots could not resist your claws.
You sweat to mutilate strained flowers,
You always work harder. Verdure spoiled.
Ravaged, ruptured, tanked soil.

Am I too early
or so so very late?
Time is but a smudge
of mixed acrylic paint.

My history, the canvas
and my pen a brush.
Time is but a smudge
dripping through my clutch.

Dreams blur into nightmares;
nightmares into day-time thoughts.
Time is but a smudge
of profits and loss.

When the end comes
my journal will be passed.
Time is but a smudge
that my children will grasp.

They will both read
of my love for them.
Time is but a smudge
in this infinite realm.

They will both know
how much I love them so.
Time is but a smudge
and if it weren't for them I would of let go.

Time is but a smudge
in an never ending orbit
time is but a smudge
and they have made it euphoric.

A little girl sang a song on the streets
About men, tired fighting the war
About the ships that left
And all who forgot their joy to the end.

She sang in her clean voice and flew up to highness
And sunbeams shined on her shoulder
Everyone saw and heard from the darkness
The ***** and torn clothes singing in the light.

All of them were sure that joy would come
Because ships arrived at beach
The people in the land of war
Regained their bearings are happy.

Sweet was her voice and the sun’s beam around
And by heaven’s gate
The little girl versed into mysteries and mourned
Because none of them will ever be returned.

Fathercraft
has been passed down
from father to father
losing and gaining
at each slow bequeathing -
less heavy-handed there
more soft-hearted here
as each generation rejects
the disciplines of the past.
So much so that I wonder
what's left of the original art
and what we've lost.

This is my food for thought
as I feed my daughter -
crumbled digestive
with mashed banana -
perhaps a favourite of mine
and my father's,
while she grins and chortles
blowing biscuit dust
and spittle bubbles
with absolute child-delight.

Food for thought
as I drink in her smile,
wipe my cheek
and laugh along,
prolonging the rare perfection
of this father moment.

For my baby
I give hope.
The hope that you will be happy
The hope that you find love
The hope that you are always safe.

For my darling
I give trust
Trust between your friends
Trust between your family
And trust between your lover

For my child
I give strength
Strength to move on
Strength for when I am gone
Strength in the presence of brawn!

For my love;
There is nothing
I would not give you
I wish to never outlive you

And I'd love to forever love you.

We drove along the water
and sat under the sun
You were a good man's daughter
and I, my mother's son

I sat back and watched everything you did,
You abused her and used her,
You were so ****** up you couldn’t even see,
You had god starring you right in you eyes,
She was your savior,
You were killing yourself and she loved you,
more than you ever could dream of loving you,
But you left,
No explanation,
Not a goodbye or see you later,
I knew then that this world was a ****** up place,
From that day forward I hated you,
For everything you did to her,
Hell if I could of killed you that night I would of,
26 years later and I’m glad to see you got your **** together,
Cause now you have another little me.