#father poems on Hello Poetry

lilly grace May 2021

1
When I tell you this story, remember it may change: god loves all (but not really).
Leviticus 18. Man shall not lie with man. “god hates that.” Leviticus, I don’t like you. You are the reason why people hate us. god makes no mistakes. he is the one who loves all. he who loves all (“unless you’re a ******”).

2
Unless you’re a ******. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. But apparently, we are the sticks. A bundle of sticks. The fuel to your hateful fire (the fire of your demise, not mine). Hate kills. We’ve all seen it happen. June 12, 2016 (only four years ago). Suddenly the pulse stopped beating.

3
Dad. All a kid wants is to make their dad proud. What about when dad isn’t proud of you? What if dad isn’t proud of you all because of something you can’t control? Can you hear me, Dad? I love you. Will you say it back? “The bible says it’s wrong.”

4
Coming out of the closet: a metaphor for LGBT people's self-disclosure of their ****** orientation or of their gender identity (Wikipedia). Hey Dad. Remember when I came out? I cried. Mom yelled at me while you stood there, stoically, with the look of a man who just lost his youngest child. You quietly told me you loved me no matter what because I will always be your daughter. You haven’t said you love me since.

5
Do not use our love as an excuse for you to hate. Why are we the disgusting ones? Your attitude reflects in the eyes of the devil himself. I wish I could make them understand. The love I have for her, he has for him, she has for her. It’s no different than the love she feels for him and he feels for her. We are all the same. God loves us all. God created everyone exactly the way they should be. Love is the basis of this religion, yet you cherry-pick those who you believe are deserving of that love. You attempt to take on the role of a God that is not yours to assume. Only God can judge. God can judge. Can judge. Judge. You are not God. Are not God. Not God. God. I guess things really can get lost in translation.

6
“I don’t hate anyone, I just don’t agree with it. In the bible, it says it’s wrong, and I place my faith in the bible because it is the word of [G]od.” One could argue that’s not hateful. And to any other (“normal”) person, it probably appears fine. “It’s their religion. It’s their beliefs. Just respect it and move on.” But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Can you hear us? Screaming from the pits of hell that you said we were destined to burn in? It’s not the hell you’re thinking of, though. It’s hell on earth. A hell that you created for us through your twisted up version of this religion that’s supposedly based on “love”. One we have to live through every day. “I still love you, but I don’t agree with your choices.” That gets tiring to hear after a while, you know? Replaying on a loop in our heads, day after day, night after night. “I still love you but…” The unacceptance is exhausting our minds. It’s not a choice. Why do you think we’d choose this? Why would we choose to live a life where so many people hate us?

7
June of 2019. I went to Baton Rouge Pride. You drove me, dad. You drove me there and walked in with me. Granted, you didn’t know about me yet, but you went with me anyway. Once you saw that I was with my friends, you left. Mom said you went to get coffee. When I asked why you left, she simply offered that you “just aren’t comfortable with this type of thing”. You’re still not comfortable. Sorry about that.

8
Dear Leviticus. I still don’t like you. You are the reason why people call us *******. You are the reason why people call us *****. You are the reason people think we’re disgusting. You are the reason why people hate us. Man shall not lie with man. “god hates that.” (You are the reason why my dad no longer tells me he loves me.) Thanks god.

i wrote this for my english class at the beginning of this year. thought i'd share.

#lgbtq #lgbt #god #religion #christian #love #homophobia #loveislove #father #religioustrauma

Ray Dunn May 2021

thoughts tonight

the rain trickles against
my window like a crackling fire

and i remember what my father told me,
raindrops fall faster than ashes

#father #sayings #ashes #rain

Taylor St Onge May 2021

Imagine This Poem as a 4x6 Walgreens Photo Print From a 2002 FujiFilm Disposable Camera

I’m thinking of the faded checkered pattern that has been
smoothed away by time on the dark cloth seats of a Nissan Pathfinder
                                          driving down Ryan Road on a hot day in June.
My mother, in the front seat, singing along to a Spice Girls cassette.

I’m thinking: red, plastic, crab-shaped sandbox and
                                      McDonald’s Happy Meal toys.
I’m thinking: light princess pink, seafoam green, and robin’s egg blue.
I’m thinking of a framed cheetah cross stitch, hanging on the wall of what
                                      used to be our bedroom at my grandparent’s house.
I’m thinking: Barbie doll houses and Hot Wheels and a cul-de-sac at
                                                                                     the end of the street.

The sweet smell of cigar smoke.  The ice cold splash of the garden hose.  The pop of a bubble.  The sting of soap in the eye.  Dreams by The Cranberries.  As Long as You Love Me by The Backstreet Boys.  A HelloKitty boombox slowly spitting out vapor when the deck builders hit a power line while digging.  The deer in the backyard looking for corn.  The faded wood of a playset that was never really played on.

My father: sitting alone on a splintered bench by the firepit at the edge of the woods, empty beer cans at his feet, chain smoking cigarettes, and humming along to a song that is stuck—forever stuck—on the tip of my tongue.
I do not know if this happened.  I cannot ask him.
(I’m not sure if I would want to ask him.)
But I can make an educated inference that that line of
fiction is really nonfiction.
A memory that feels like a phantom limb.
                            Sounds like the sharp crinkle of static.
                                                     Covered in a gossamer, dreamlike haze.

There is a distinct otherness to this memory, to who
                                     I think I was before the trauma.
We are two different people.  A yin and a yang.  A day and a night.
The hermit crab is soft beneath its hard shell.
The asbestos is not apparent within the insulation.
You cannot see the lead in the paint.
The mold inside the fruit.

prompt one for write your grief: who was the person you used to be?

#death #grief #loss #memory #dream #family #father #mother #90s #nostalgia

a Apr 2021

being the daughter of a drunk

he comes home...
we never know exactly when...
I used to think he was cheating on my mother

maybe he always was
the liquor stole him away from us
he felt safer there
he had more fun with the liquor
as each beer went down his throat he was more and more at home
he loved us
but the beer captivated him
it stole his attention and drove him away

when hed come home during the daylight
i can see his body swaying
I used not appreciate the fact as much that he got home safely each day in that condition
his words would slur....
each end of a word colliding with the beginning of the other...
sometimes he'd get so lost in thought
lose track of time on what we were talking about...

my mother was always mad....
I used to get mad too and never knew why
until one day
i gave in...
I gave him my forgiveness the one he never asked for
you cant teach an old dog new tricks....

I tried to support him...
but its so hard
my mom is so hurt....
just wanting a husband to come home too...
not to be drunk...
to help around the house....
to be cohesive with thoughts....
to spend more time at the house than he does at the bar....

it breaks my heart...
I dont know who to support
I love them both
w
h
y is it so hard to be a daughter of a drunk....

i have no memory of abuse ever...
just the fogginess and him coming in so late...
and the screams of my parents
I used to wish they got a divorce... just so the fighting would stop.

sometimes he was never around...
but I have the good memories too...
he truly did love me..
its an addiction you know?
maybe if he had the power or the knowledge he wouldve chose us instead of the liquor.
he is my father and I love him none the less.
He is one of the coolest guys I know. A real respectable man.
A TRUE OG FROM THE OUTFIELDS OF HUMBOLDT PARK.

who never got the healing from the childhood trauma that he shouldve
he is just a man who got trapped in an addiction so hard to run away from....
just trying himself to get away from the screams of his wife... reminding him daily of all his issues.
he is just a man who is hurt his baby daughter chose her moms side and would bicker at him too...
he has to deal with both women.
who can he turn too?
other than the bottle who would never judge him.
he is just a man who is repeating the steps of his father.
who didnt know better.
who is simply following the path he knows.
he tries his best.
he tried fighting it.
just sometimes it gets too strong.
he is just a man who didn't know about therapy at a young age...
he is just a man that feared to show tears or vulnerability.
to be anything less than a man
he is just a man who got stuck in the ******* and troubles of this world.
he drinks to forget the memories.
he drinks to not worry about the issues of daily life.

I forgive him and I always will.
This is what it means to be a daughter of a drunk.

#daughter #drunk #addiction #love #father

Just Another Flower Apr 2021

Your disguise

The bust of colour I see coming from your smile
Your happiness radiates for a whole mile
The laughter in your eyes
The perfect disguise
I know what's behind that mask of love
Concealing the hate with a velvet glove
What you do when no one else can see
When there's only me
The way you make me beg and plea
How you cause me so much pain
Keeping me on a chain
How could a father cause so much pain
The pain that will drive me insane
That look of disdain
It's no longer humane
~24/4/21

#father #pain #disguise #mask

xavier thomas Apr 2021

Run to

Now where did you hide to, hide to?
I think I just spotted you boo
And I see you smiling, smiling
Only a matter of time before I catch you

Where did you hide to, hide to?
I think I just spotted you boo
And I see you smiling, smiling
Only a matter of time before I catch you

I promise to protect you day and night
I promise to help you grow a healthy mind
I promise to cheer on, when you cry
I promise I’ll fight for you, love

Now where did you hide to, hide to?
Only a matter of time before I catch you

Just my child & I

#daughter #father

Duckie Apr 2021

Parental Guidance

I see you in the drunken man on the bus, singing hits
from the 60s,
I hear you when a man near your age belittles me, over a
job he knows nothing about,
I feel you when that initial rejection from someone hits, craving
validation you failed to gift me,
craving to be enough,
I smell you as friends open bottles of cheap ale, a scent
embedded into my bloodstream,
I miss you when I see a father and his child playfully race in the
park over the road,
I'm always wanting what I don't have.

#parents #familylife #father #parenthood #children #relationships #longing #newpoet

Anthony Casamassima Dec 2020

Parents Before Parenthood: part 2

can't sleep,
early to rise
and search the
classifieds.

one more movie
should do the trick.
or maybe finish
that next game level?

i'll shower after
i get back from
the station,
long walk since
the tire popped.

first things first,
smoke break.
meet us around back
in buddy's tinted van,
you know
where nobody goes.

8 or 9 months is
plenty of time
to shape up.
gotta get it all in
before there's no more room
for my needs.

for A.J.
--
the ones that teach you,
who lift you up over
their heads
in good faith,
these are their stories.

#parent #trailer #poor #young #life #family #father #desperate #addict #drugs