They said these moments were fleeting.

The nights that seemed endless are already in the rear view. Heavy lids and sandbag limbs we made it through the days on fumes of caffeine and never ending love for you.

Lately, the middle of the night wake up calls have grown less frequent and I don’t mind them as much anymore, even in the haze of my exhaustion, candle burning at all ends, I relish the moments your tiny hands search my face for comfort, tugging at my hair like your favorite blanket as you slip back into the deepest sleep.

Mumbling incoherently until your sweet voice becomes steady breathing and you snuggle into me.

I know that someday I won’t be able to hold you like this anymore, I hope that you’ll still need me, but the reasons won’t be as simple, and my exhaustion will come from worry about a million other things you need and won’t voice.

That is the future, and I will handle it when it comes, but for now, I will absorb every second of this vulnerable nighttime ritual and try not to get frustrated by my lack of sleep and ever changing routine that is on your schedule.

I will capture every second I can on photo and video so that every so often, when I am ready to break, I can go back and reflect on how quickly this sand is passing through the glass, breathe deep and just enjoy this time with you.

A Poem by 1SP

Yours, by the first time I laid eyes on you,
Yours, after all we had been through;
By the time we had first embraced,
I knew that my job was to see it take place...

That big old tree house with two swings beneath
As stars in my skies align each time you breathe;
Just say a prayer and tell me what is a wish of yours,
And I'll never stop until God says I fulfilled my purpose;
Like you're thriving in a true greatness like
Yours, like you walking in the greatest life called
Yours, I'll keep showering you in a lifetime full of fun;
Everything you can possibly need and want,
I will pursue it for you until it's yours.
Yours, all things you dream you can be,
Yours, all things you can mean to me;
For a moment of lifetime to build a memory
Of you being right here with me...

That big old tree house with two swings beneath
As stars in my skies align each time you breathe,
Just say a prayer and tell me what is a wish of yours,
And I'll never stop until God says I fulfilled my purpose;
Like you're thriving in a true greatness like
Yours, like you walking in the greatest life called
Yours, I'll keep showering you in a lifetime full of fun;
Everything you can possibly need and want,
I will pursue it for you until it's yours.

You know I will pursue it until it's yours
Malik, you have a dad you can rely on,
You have a dad to plant your goals on,
Harvest all of yours one after one...

Ⓒ Official 1SP

This poem is featured in the book,'ACT LIKE YOU KNOW II: Extradition x Epigraphs'

https://amzn.to/3QnyDy1

#1sp #official1sp #1sppoems #yours #poemsforkids #fatherandson #parenting #fatherhood #actlikeyouknow #extradition #By #epigraphs

I am an unruly child; I
drink in bed and create
messes and tell lies
all the time.
I'm late, I disobey.
I don't eat over the table
or chew my food
or say I love you enough.
I exclude. I avoid.
And when I say to
behave one way
and act another,
I want you to understand;
I am an unruly child
no one to look to,
trying to guide you.

From her lessons in independence we learnt that everyone leaves,
Abandonment as sure a fact of life
                                                                ­                                            as death.

We learnt that love was transactional,
A currency,
A receipted ***-for-tat tete-a-tete.

At the altar we were shown lies,
In the white dress a million yes’s but the question was never till death.

I could walk through darkness without worry,
I’d never been shown the danger,
Been encouraged to see an enemy in calories but not strangers.

We learnt to lie to avoid bruises,
Wooden spoons used for more than stirring soup,
The salt burning streaks down our faces when the *** boiled over the stove top.

Truths ignored and lies inelegant
We learnt to wield fists with tongues  
Sparring for our lives.
Cautiously awaiting the
whistle pop
truth drop
wished unsaid
upon
impact.

He is off to devour the babysitter

No need for shoes in the summer heat

No need for pants inside the house

Three steps at a time, tiny claws awhir
Tyrannosaurus teeth aching to crunch the bones of his Brazilian prey



Sometimes I remember to move carefully around his loud, joyful willingness

Or I don't remember

And tear a fat chunk of adventure out of him with a stinging rebuke



But he is a T-Rex with two tons to spare

I want to hug
my son's son
60 years from now.

With beauty,
and pain,
and wonder,
and heartbreak
written into the lines
across my face.

Telling him
he is enough.
He'll always be enough.

do not expect for this to be a poem about love.

I owe you, right?
you gave birth to me,
which means I should be grateful that you didn't yell at me today.
thank you then.

I tell you I am hurt by your words,
but I should be sorry for being hurt by you?
I am sorry then.
it will not happen again.

I ask to close my door,
but this is your house.
you ask for me to clean your mess,
now it's my house too, right.

I need to take care of myself,
I'm starting to feel better.
I am wrong, you come first
I owe you every last breath.

I avoid the mirror.
I will look fat no matter what.
I wonder where I got this from.
thank you for my self-hatred.

see I have finally realized something,
parenting was your job,
not mine.
so why the **** was I doing it?

I do not owe you anything.
you chose to have me,
you chose to raise me.
you failed but I have to pay?

I have come up with two words for your parenting style,
mental abuse.