Is a Child
A mirror of himself
his father,  and his father's fathers.
All culminating within the palms
Of his own two hands
His newborn babe.

He wonders in awe,
"How can I best teach, support, and love you?"
With ears of compassion
Eyes of love, and a heart of gratitude
His Spirit spoke,

"Allow your light to shine."
Allow your heart to breathe.
Allow your your ego
to slip away into the shadow
Of your Ancient Wise Soul.

He felt it!
As he breathed deeply
Down to the depths of his soles.
A heartfelt love
A love that was only imagined
Until this very moment

my daughter is almost 5
and my son is nearly 2
I could simply say they're one and four
but when the number's higher it sounds a little better
they're less babies and more childlike
you know, bigger and more wise
I'm more wise

my daughter is almost five
and my son is nearly two
they're in our yard with twig berrets
and mud stained smiles posing for a postcard to make the hose drinking generation proud.
he straddles the ground, chest bare like he's Tarzan and howls at the blue sky
challenging the sun

I look at him like he's made of stone
she's a daisy pedal I crush in my hand and compress into a diamond
the toxins dripping from the curling edges of my lips burn the dirt from her face
the shine of the light washes out the blood on my knuckles.
a ring on my finger and my hands look clean

my daughter is almost five
and my son is nearly two
their muddy fingers comb their feral hair
and their green feet clip the grass till they find jagged rocks
they weep over skinned kneecaps and with one arm I pull her close
with the other I slug his shoulder, "buck up kiddo, you'll be alright"
I hold a stone in each hand, and call one a precious gem while I build my house out of the other

my skin has washed against those stones since they were none and none
built into the houses of a thousand graveyards I've watched daisies pile over golden sarcophaguses
watched them wilt at the bottom of alters built on stone
I won't carve epitaphs into these hearts I hold

my daughter is almost five
and my son is nearly two
we drag fallen branches to our firepit and dance to music next to the flames
like weightless stone his strength surges to his tippytoes
she powders his nose with ash and pretends she's a cheetah
her game isn't to **** she just wants to chase
princes have their feet welded to pedestals and the sport's no fun for her

my children aren't rocks, they're stardust
I won't make kings or queens I've no providence  over their future
so I'll **** the venom from the sky and watch them walk back to the stars
I may not be a champion but I'll be their father

Passages on Fatherhood
by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy Michael Burch

He is my treasure,
and by his happiness I measure
my own worth.

Four years old,
with diamonds and gold
bejeweled in his soul.

His cherubic beauty
is felicity
to simplicity and passion—

for a baseball thrown
or an ice-cream cone
or eggshell-blue skies.

...

It’s hard to be “wise”
when the years
career through our lives

and bees in their hives
test faith
and belief

while Time, the great thief,
with each falling leaf
foreshadows grief.

The wisdom of the ages
and prophets and mages
and doddering sages

is useless
unless
it encompasses this:

his kiss.

Keywords/Tags: father, fatherhood, child, childhood, children, son, time, years, wisdom, kiss

The surgery room makes you nauseous

He’s the only doctor you have
He understands how your cane helps you walk
And what music helps you relax
So when he tells you he should resign, that he’s a bad doctor,
You insist he isn’t.
He’s the only doctor you have.

He’s not so kind to his other patients,
Ignoring and laughing off their concerns
He insults and yells at his coworkers
And won’t help keep the hospital running.
Only you get his attention
So he takes you specifically under his wing,
Like a disciple instead of a patient

He’s a hypocrite, your doctor.
He tells you how fragile your lungs are
While puffing his cigarette.
He explains the benefits of a sound mind
With empty bottles across the floor
A cautionary tale, that would be fine,
If he wasn’t so lousy at being a doctor.

You’re the only one who listens to him
Because you don’t know any better.
He shows you his injuries and scars from long ago
That run for feet across his back
You hear the stories of how he and his sisters got those scars
With little detail spared.
Ironic, then, that when you get a scrape on your little knee
You can’t imagine telling him.

Other patients resent you for having his attention
Saying your music tastes stole him from them,
Leaving them with only harsh neglect.
Truly it’s because the drunk, depressed doctor
Sees them as a weaker version of those he hates most
Like the nurses, left to do their best to comfort you
Leaving them alone to run the hospital they want to leave so badly.

He has helped you
You wouldn’t walk today if not for him
His medical advice is fairly sound
You have conversations,
But those good things became perverse
As each and every hug being haunted by tickling
As he always sleeps naked, always.
As sometimes he sits you down
And forgets what grade to put certain education courses

You hate needles to today. Naturally.
It’s in your nature. can’t be helped.
But your doctor didn’t help.
He would show syringes and explain their beauty.
Syringe displays were smaller parts of overall sessions,
But it was always integral to it.
At every squirm he repeated how you wouldn’t live without medicine
Which objectively is true.
But the Heavy weights criminals lift in Prison
And the Metal children learn about in School
Could be lifted and taught without extra indecency.
A Grove does not need Hemlock bushes

Maybe he could be a good doctor
If he wasn’t drunk
If he wasn’t poor
If he didn’t have so many scars
But the fact is that he should never have been a doctor.
And he knows that. And he tells you he knows.
But you tell him he’s the best doctor in the world.
He's the only doctor you have.

The ambulance hurts your head within a moment of being in
The waiting room has more dread every time
The *** test hits the water twice as strong
The surgery room makes you nauseous
The operating table makes time move ten times slower.

He should comfort you.
You should take comfort in him.
That's his job.
But he only takes comfort in you.
And it’s only that.

The surgery itself came throughout a whole life
Little by little
His influence holds to this day.
I won’t be a doctor. And I’ll never go to that hospital again.

not the man you used to be
and we do not know why
everything is suffocating
strangled by the lies

in the end it all felt wrong
like it was born to burn
scarring all your little ones with
nothing left to learn

-
by Aleksander Mielnikow | Alek the Poet

He always lets them
braid petals into his hair,

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
(swept over his ear
and beside his eye),
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

and he breathes deeply
and smiles softly,

and knows
that he is loved
when he is
next to his flowers.

By birth most knew
This name of stern
As mentors too
Some take this turn

Few tamed in domicile
Less in passive right
Age takes this notice
Not wisdom nor sight

Whose care can nurture
Great strength in a foal?
To yield such future
Mere presence can scold

With great hope so few
Enjoy this manly art
That horses will march
Long after they depart

I await this fortune
Time takes my reign
My worships in court
Years cannot regain

How will my horses march
On life's steeple chase
Without their father's hold
From this their tender age?

The immensity of any mountain

Holds me to no consternation.

I will continue to climb

Until I reach the pinnacle!

You make me feel invincible

Vedo la pace quando ti guardo.
( I see peace when I look at you. )

Credo nella tua pace per portare miracoli
(I believe in your peace, to bring miracles.)


Fatherhood

Questionable paths of multidimensional natures. Brought me lucid signs from the heavens, chaos,  and deciphered codes, perplexing mysteries to human eyes! To this new ray of light contained in this "life". Known as "Isaiah".

Beyond any amount of roaming doubts, I have spiritually reclaimed these portions of myself! Learning more from the acts and encounters with these  ritualistic, rhythmic, mesmerizing, colorful...mindless illusions called "DREAMS"

For being a "father."  To very this day

I must say,  I am on a wave. Floating with just the "gist" of things!

Barely, gaining an actual understanding

From the great 13 "the ways" of what it actually means.

My son as of now. You have 7 years in this lifetime on earth until your birthday returns!  11/27/15  I remain faithful in my beliefs, you will grow stronger than me and change something about this world!  For the details are covered in mind fog of my shadows following me, but it will be revealed to the light as movement flows with everything. Time will continue to conspire against us. You will find a way. To be our salvation. I am proud to be your father. I believe in you ISAIAH.

I S A I A H
Inspiring
Selfless
Ambitious
Inventive
Admirable
Healer

Nobody­ can prepare enough for a versatile role such as this.

The position as a mother.
The position as a father.


In the 9 months of her pregnancy I've doubted myself. Lost myself. Broke myself. Built and redesigned my "most-needed-self"  in functions through activities while in this phase of a "verbally-projecting insecurities." There were multiple factors that drove me on edge.

Not only the hormonal twists and turns spare me no justice. The weather always affected my cravings, for outrageous foods along with my mood.

I have had my highs and lows, solo-soaring in my head. This emotionally, over charged flight, ascending all from below to go above extreme heights!
Obviously, there is more to this!  Remaining as one of the central caretakers,  emotional support guide, or an active disciplinarian.  (When it comes for it...)  

If you don't have any love for yourself on any level.
If you don't value yourself like you should.
If you FEAR sacrifice.

Then surely, this is not the sport for you!

Love! Appreciate! Honor! Value! Believe! BELIEVE!  BELIEVE in our children of the FUTURE! Fatherhood have been teaching as well as providing insightful concepts equipped with understanding the depth our child's needs, knowledge and passion. Do not turn your head away at the chance to learn, while you are given a lesson on a daily, to grow with your loved ones while they mature into a man or woman because they will not forever remain as a baby.

Shouting it to the winds. Let the skies, immortalize my voice until the clouds fade!

Climbing mountains, moving mountains and triumph over the impossible continuously! For you without any constellation. You are the exact reason of how and why I feel that NOTHING limits me!

You are my sword and my enhanced armor of confidence!
No demon or obstacle limits me with fear.
I'll stand by your side right or wrong.

YOUR love, keeps me to stand and stay strong!
What does it mean to be a father???

The root of meaning...

Goes deeper than what I can summarize
To you mindfully or consciously...

For  I am still learning....
from you all....