Slip in, slip under
Under the veil of sense, under the veil of logic
Between realities, between what you, what I know
In between there, is where the work must be done
In the place where logic and words and sense make no sense
In the place where truth, beauty, pain and fear reside
Inside of you – inside of me
Where the hurt lies, where the scars are
The pushed downess, possibly from, definitely from the generations before
The male lineage
My dad, his dad, his dad’s dad, and so on…
They were fighters, so the story goes
The Watsons were renowned for fighting, for drinking
My dad followed and didn’t follow suit
He loved me, loved me so much
Loved me the best he could at the time.
How our daddy’s saw us and loved us effect how we feel seen by men.
Slip under the self-conscious, slip under
Raise the possibility that I could
That I could open up to life
That the harsh harsh critic could quieten and be replaced
Be replaced by connection to heart, to self, to other, to nature
The possibility that I can trust the unknown
That I could move from my heart and trust that movement.
Daddy’s first born
Why so silent daddy?
Better try and be interesting to get heard
Look pretty to be seen
Did you hear me daddy
Did you see me?
