Growing up I always knew your love
A mutual understanding was born
I was young and carefree
However deep down inside
I knew your heart was in turmoil
Mother passed away
Six months after giving birth to me
Like a mad man you worked two full-time jobs
So you could provide a roof
Keep me warm during the winter
And my belly full while you starved
You were stubborn
You were heartbroken
You were a man holding my future
You taught me the passion for Martial Arts
And so today now is time to switch roles
Your son has grown up
And matured to be a fine man
Finally the damage to your body
Has retired your health
This young man has watched you suffer
While I benefitted from the fruits of your labours
I thank you, father,
Because you taught me persistence
To be headstrong with a free will
Suffering doesn't mean you're lonely
Because in the end
You still had your son
And I still had my father.
(whence empty nest syndrome gnawed emotionally raw,
the tender sore gum chafing absence of lovely lasses –
on the straight and true – heading toward a horizon of their own chew zing.
That contractual obligation tubby selfless no longer applicable.
Stillness brings roaring back the routine activities, that seemed
to distort time by plodding along, until one day aye awake
to soundless of young girls mirth.
Because this papa doth love each offspring, the irony of parenthood
warrants forsaking being a vigilante.
They must needs go outward and upward, and such difficult
parting pained particularly poignant part and parcel of the role
of dutiful NON GMO gluten free fatherhood.
this then december twenty forth,
i felt an inner compunction
how tara became re: born
whereby this pop -
bleary eye lids ready to droop
with his tired bones snapping
and popping like jimmy crack corn
an immediate need to succumb to sleep
found me transfixed
how blessings did add horn
mine attention riveted at the then
early twenty something vanished self of mine
(where oh where did young Matthew Scott Harris go)?
stricken n fore lorn
though the hour well nigh
closing in on six in the morn
whereby the sage within mine psyche
waving a finger - tsk tsk - with mild scorn
for forgoing to bed, yet...
a powerful tsunami like force arose up
when viewing the account of how tara - blank -
became rent asunder and torn
from an terrible accident of fate -
though a miraculous recovery now worn.
an exercise regimen of running plus lifting weights -
perhaps so many reps of a curl
finds me applauding and praising efforts...
so you go girl
with all inner strength pell mell into fitness -
testing your limits to the max
whether across busy urban streets or...
where landscape offers open space with pearl
jam skies - in outlying less populated tracts -
giving freedom 2 dance n twirl.
ye r so lucky tubby alive
cuz immediate family, friends, relatives
and now...this stranger gives u high five
without asking anything in return -
since inspiration courses thru me
inducing thyself 2 strive
and/ or if when fate decrees,
thee will make an awesome counterpart
who this older papa bloke would envy
as ye possess inxs of strength to re:vive.
blessing for sound health ™
upon waking every morning I offer silent benediction
for the ability to revel with full faculty of this aging body
still going strong where ability enjoying simple pleasures
available thru ****** senses plus cavorting via memories
with daughters in my nonsensical mien worth more than
money can buy, yet of course if I did happen to be a lucky
lottery winner that could definitely relief anxiety and allow
me to breathe easy yet could never do justice pitted against
sear ring roe buck body, mind and spirit triage.
She has left me forever but wants to enjoy my company forever because she knows that my advice was as worthy as her father's advice for her. And she wanted a cool boyfriend, not a caring and overprotective ****** like me, in her words. She has unfortunately chosen to ditch me forever. But she is paradoxically true in saying that the care I dispensed was more like that of a father than just a cool lover or a boyfriend who she desired.
I can't stand the sight of herself willingly falling into the quicksand that the evil society is. She will weep alone someday, repenting for making all the wrong choices and I won't be waiting for her forever because my respected parents have wrested my life from the clutches of death so that I may do something worthy of my calibre, not condescending from mere some ****** girl's stupid decisions.
So I chose to move on alone. She'll realize one day that her decisions were all made sluttily and wrongly so. But when she realizes so, I will make sure that I am not there to handle her once again. I will stop being concerned for her altogether.
I forgive her with the guarantee to forget her and come over to move on beyond her one day. But no one will get my more than humanitarian love ever.
Not a poem.
Just a Declaration of Freedom.
— The End —