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Ken Pepiton Dec 2020
Well, if my attention is all I own, and may
self generate, in return for
earning,
learning or reacting to mazing devices for
finding why I choose

if my will is surrendered to chemistry,
where is the code
hat keeps time
n chnce missing random keys in random lines?

WHY must I never forget how to ride a bike?
How can I ever forget U, U'

facing front from the first learned cross,
any color works, Mondriaan sub-'tility
be not decieved of the
more than 43 quintillion ways to scramble a Rubik's cube,
of all those,
there is only your definition for the right state to prove, if you wish
there is a perfect mix,
equally tricky,

beguiling, in fact, to watch a seven-year old on Adderall do this.
Glorying in seeing my grandson solve a three by three puzzle as his Daddy
silently -nearly, watches saying see, see, saying over and over see, ah shhh, seee -- neither are on Adderall... poetic licensee not biografee.
five minutes, by the cloud's clock.
J Dec 2020
Maybe my mother and my stepdad were happy once.
but that was a time where they still thought it was freedom
to be out of a household
as I'm thinking now.
there was a time where they could look into each other's eyes
and think
This is who I want to spend the rest of my life with
I want to hate him.
I want to hate him when his hands are on her,
on me
on us.
I want to hate him when he tells us that he doesn't love us
when he says he doesn't love my mother
that he's going to take my sister and brother
his kids he says
and leave.
I want to hate him when he tells me that I'm not his.
He's not my dad.
He's not my other sister's dad either.
that my mother's a *****
that he'd rather **** his cousin than look at my mother again.
We're nothing to him
I want to hate her when she tells him to leave, too
when she keeps talking
spitting on him
telling him that he's worthless
that she's cheating twice as much as he is
when she tells us that it's our fault he's mad
our fault their marriage is failing.
our fault.
I want to hate her when she leaves us alone with him
and comes back to my strongest sister in tears
asking her why she's crying "like a little *****"
I want to hate her when she breaks down because he's now been gone
for six hours
and we don't know if he's coming back.
but I can't hate them for long, because maybe they're right.
it's probably our fault.
I know they were in love once.
when I was young, and his kids hadn't been born yet
and I was living with my grandfather and grandmother
with Lilly and Cherish
that was a time where he could be with her
alone
always.
they were in love with each other once
back when I wasn't cutting
or drinking or smoking
back when I wasn't thinking or talking
back when we were nothing but children
tiny children.
they were in love once, and now there's nothing.
somewhere when they started
falling apart,
they left little string
and as I grow older I find that I follow it
the string leads into why they're still together, but
see
the string will run out eventually.
"For the kids"
"We can try"
"we can make it work"
"I'm sorry"
"I love you"
those all get thinner.
See I think that they were in love at one time
but that was before they knew each other.
maybe he'll be back tomorrow
chang Dec 2020
when the sun
kisses the sea orange,
my father comes home with sawdust
caked underneath his nails.
i remember how my mother
brushes them clean
until the water becomes yellowish,
like the sun.
That night, we will tuck ourselves in.
But i'll still be left at dusks.
wishing for that very same one,
where their worries would recede,
like the orange.
Where they will not have to think
about tomorrow
too much.
Omar Kurdi Dec 2020
I’ve chosen a new home for me
Somewhere in a wild wild place
You know, I’ve always imagined my home to be white
But with so many colors inside
And a stairwell to a heavenly upstairs
There, you’ll find the California
And you’ll find me in an imagined placenta
Wondering if it’s time to be reborn
Or time to die inside
This home I’ve chosen
Has so many cells, with so many broken walls
And it has a grand ballroom for my memories to waltz
And dance away the events of that unspoken of day
The day the sun rose with one ray less
The day the clouds watched over me as I cried
As I mourned, and wished that my tears were just washing off my sins
And not bidding farewell to a man with none
See, I’ve chosen a new home, dad..
A home where your picture continues to inspire
A home where your voice can still be heard
A home where you are still there
And I am there too waiting for a scolding
I’ve a chosen a haven away from a reality nightmare
A treehouse with a one way ladder
And a memory box that I will never leave locked
I’ve a chosen a home far from my quiet room
Far from this cold hallway waiting for the ringing of your oxygen machine
Distant from the memory of you grasping a breath to live
I’ve chosen a home where I can miss you without missing you
Where I am not a jailed grieving man
Where I am with you all the time
Written to commemorate my father’s one year anniversary of his passing.
Andrea Lee Bolt Dec 2020
You never said it with your words
hugs weren’t what We came to do
you said "Mountain Girls don’t cry"
I held it in to make it true
Don't worry Daddy, I don't need em
I know "I love you's" just words

So many stories in your eyes
never needed a gift or an alibi
We always knew it through and through
the way my heart looked into you
funny really, the truth
to us “I love you” are just words

I knew it at my ballgame
when you appeared in the bleachers
made you proud to all my teachers
don’t worry Daddy, I don't need em
I know “they’re just words”

Was confused when my lovers wouldn’t say it.
Wen't for a long journey don't the path of "maybe I didn’t deserve it"
there and back again
Now I know the truth, I'm worth it
it all happened in the start
it’s me who thinks “they’re just words”
so it didn't bounce back reflected
Now we can have it all

It’s ok to say “I love you”
can be freeing if you want it to
paint a picture with the rainbow
let love guide you

Don't worry Daddy I'll never need it
and they'll never see me cry.
But watch me Daddy as I ride
the craziest bull of them all
having both Love, it's spoken word,
hugs and all.
When a ranch girl’s daddy issues come shining through!
Kenneth Gray Nov 2020
3 perfect little angels
30 little fingers
And 30 little toes
How ever was I blessed with you -
Who really knows?
Oh how you brighten my day if
The sun is shining -
Or even if it snows
Oh how your eyes sparkle
And your faces do glow
Oh how obviously you are from me -
And that fact surely shows
With every blessed day
With you in my life
My heart grows and it grows

My 3 perfect little angels
Ages 6, 5 and 2
Just keep in your hearts
That I forever loved you
And remember this fact -
Because of you,
My heart always grew
Oh, how I could write a book
My little angels -
If you only knew
As I sit and ponder these things
Emotions continually stew
Trust me, my 3 little angels -
I will always, ALWAYS love you
Trust this to be true
Just happy to be blessed -
With my little 3 angel crew
Devoted to my 3 beautiful kids that I adore.
Heidi Johanna Nov 2020
What kind of a father
Would you be to my child
Would you hold them
To your chest
When they’re crying
Would you kiss them goodnight

Would you be patiently caring
Bringing strength to our lives
Simply asking these questions
To know what you’re like
Would you be a good father
The worth-choosing kind
Grey Rose Nov 2020
Tell me
That gun that you're so proud of
Why does it tremble so much?
Is your hand following your unstable mind?
Is that the same hand that holds your child's?

Your emotions
Fragile enough to be crushed with a hug
Insecure enough to attack a compliment
Corrupt enough to endlessly reload on lies and deceit
Are those the same emotions you shoot into your wife at night?

Your bullets roar so loudly
What voices are you trying to drown out?
Your heartbeat clanks at the speed of the fallen shells
What are you so afraid of?
A man armed and ready to go off at any moment like you?

Tell me
What can you manage to defeat?
With those trembling hands
Uncertain of what to take aim at
You shoot down anything that moves
Uncertain of where the trigger is
You pull at anything you can reach
Uncertain of how much enemies are left
You forever stay in the trenches
I now know that when you bow your head at church that it's not for prayer

Then hoping to nullify your senseless you refuse to leave the battlefield
And take no-mans-land everywhere you go

You wear your bulletproof vest and rifle to the supermarkets, schools, offices, dinner tables, churches, and funerals

Forever firing
Forever charging
Forever defending
Forever fighting
Yourself.
SøułSurvivør Nov 2020
The time of dad's passing
I've been restrained
All the day long
I've looked at the rain.

There isn't a smouldering
Hint of a spark
I can't see for nothin'
The rain is so dark.

The stormclouds are following
One on another
They tred on the heels
They're so close together.

The date of a death
Is when pain was born
There seem to be many
One endless storm.

The first major hurricane
2020 has seen
Was the health & work crisis
Of COVID-19

Then the stress on good friendships
Because of the news
People fussing & fighting
For differing views.

THEN Minneapolis
Had a white killer cop
And others stood by
As a black man's heart stopped!

Now, these are DEATHS!
We HAVE to RECEIVE!
Deaths of our innocence
We no longer believe
In man's basic goodness
No way it's retrieved
We must accept now
And we have to GRIEVE.

My father survived WWII
Lived 93 years in this mortal stew.
But now he's left... years ago? TWO.

When I was a child
Oh, SO long ago
I used to LOVE thunderstorms...

... what did I know?

R.I.P. Clinton Eugene Jarvis

SoulSurvivor
Cathy Jarvis
(C) 5/30/2020
I wrote this a while back. My dad died in May. I still struggle with grief. I know others who are going through it right now. I can relate.
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