#dads
Though a man of competence
might master a non-stick pan
with only casual reading
of its manual, he WILL need
to read the instructions for
a chain saw. The aftermath
of careless use does differ.
May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 3:18 PM UTC
Our relationship is always a closed and locked up door
No matter how hard I try, our relationship stays like it's always been before
No matter what I do, no matter how easy or rough
For some ******* reason, it never seems to be enough
I try my hardest to make him proud
Yet he never seems to listen despite me screaming so loud
I wish he'd look my way and want to see me
I want things to be normal, a happy family
What must I do to get his love
Must I call for a miracle sent from above?
I already lost a mother and now I'm losing a father
All I ever wanted was to be treated like a daughter
Jan 18, 2025
Jan 18, 2025 at 1:12 PM UTC
You used to take me shopping
You bought me so many new things
You thought it might help me forget
The hurtful words you liked to scream
But I never wanted your baggage
you disguised as your love
I just wanted a dad
I wanted a genuine love-
the kind that doesn’t have a price
the kind that isn’t laced with judgement
your words as cold as ice
I’m sorry your dad hurt you
I’m sorry your brother was mean
But I wish you would’ve healed
Instead of taking it out on me.
Dec 9, 2022
Dec 9, 2022 at 5:44 AM UTC
Death called your name, you said
Not from the periphery
But right here
Right now
And it requires bloodshed
Eyes glazing over
The tracks before you
Dreaming of being
Splayed
For the length of a mile
I laugh nervously
When you tell me
Because it was me
Your son
Who handed you the phone
“For death, press 1”
You’re at the crossing now
From the pedal
Your foot lifts
The train’s horn
Bellowing
As into its path
You drift
The brakeman screams
As your body disjoints
Your shame for me reduced
To scarlet exclamation points
A nearby sparrow
Witnesses the scene
“Sad”, she thinks
Hatchlings cozy
Underneath her wing
It’s a bit cruel
To pile your ****
On my shoulders
As if I were a mule
And it’s a bit wicked
To claim my
Unchangeable
Existence
As sin committed
The enigma of stigma
Is yours to explore
I slide you a key
I’ll be right here
On the other side of the door
A mouse creeps
Across the threshold
Seeing both sides
“Too bad”, he thinks
As he scurries by
You named me Christopher
After a boy killed
By a train
And now you say I’m to blame
Like an unfortunate stain
On the hem
Of our family’s pain
The truth is
I couldn’t keep living a lie
And I’m sorry, dad
I’m the reason you want to die
Sep 3, 2022
Sep 3, 2022 at 8:23 PM UTC
There was something wrong with the adults I always thought
When I was young... when I was little
The Grown Ups
There was something, well something missing in them
They seemed a bit preoccupied, a bit faraway by times,
Maybe it was the great responsibility they had, looking after us
Or running after us, we used run around a lot back then,
Out on the beach under the big blue sky
On our way out to meet the tide
The wonderful colourful houses of the village seen from afar,
With the big chapel on the hill
And the lovely blue mountains of the headland sloping down to the sea
We'd be lost in the joy and excitement of the moment, thinking
"Isn't this wonderful, isn't it amazing, this thing called Life, Wow!!!"
And Mom she'd be there with us, tagging along
And on her face this kind of... kind of lonesome smile
There seemed to be a great sadness in them somewhere
They didn't seem to have the same joy that we had
Etched on their faces was something else, something haunting
Days of struggle and hardship... and pain.
Their own parents had died when they were very young
They used tell me, tell me gravely
"One day, one day we won't be here son"
And you'd go off to school feeling very tearful inside
Hardly able to do your lessons, mulling over those terrible words,
And at night in bed, you'd listen for their voices downstairs
And if you couldn't hear them, you'd get up and sit on the landing listening intently for their spoken words
So as to be reassured, that they were still there,
That they hadn't gone away and left you.
II
The adults they loved to sit and talk and drink tea
We didn't like talking much, that was boring stuff
(We liked the biscuits though)
We wanted to be outside playing, up and about
Yea! We wanted action and adventure instead
Playing games, kicking football up the garden
Running down the wing, shooting for goal, scoring!
O! the thrill of it all,
Or playing soldiers, cowboys and Indians
Or down the beach among the rocks exploring
Whereas we probably lived a lot still in our bodies
And in the thrill of the moment
(I remember I used talk to parts of my body when I was very little, when there was no one else around)
The adults they seemed to live in their heads most of the time
Locked away up there in their lonely towers
Adults I suppose had decisions to make.
Often Mom would find it hard to keep up with us
We could get away with a lot of things with Mom
But it was different though when Dad would come home
Then the atmosphere in the house would change
There'd be this strange tension
The Dads they were strange ones
They were like that Rodin sculpture "The Thinker" (a man bent over thinking)
You'd watch them warily, and move around them very carefully and quietly
You'd have to have your antenna switched on
You didn't know which mood would be on them
Whether they were going to be gentle or flare up like a firestorm.
The Dads they used to drink beer and black stuff, the Guinness
Sometimes they'd give us a sip
Ugh...the taste of it, it'd give you the creeps
You'd think " How do you drink that stuff and Why!!!
It wasn't sweet like orange or lemonade
It was another mystery, the strange world... the strange world of the adults.
(Once while walking along the beach we came across this well dressed young man fast asleep behind the sea wall
Lying on the cold ground, a few empty beer cans beside him
Of course we didn't know yet about people getting drunk
We were very puzzled at this scene, we looked at one another baffled
Why did he want to sleep there for ?
Did he not have a home to go to and a bed to sleep in ?
What we were looking at was the World... the strange world of the adults).
The Dads they were always watching the News and talking politics
Once when we were on holiday down the country at our Auntie's place
We were outside playing football
While my Dad and Uncle were inside drinking and talking politics
Arguing heatedly about who was right and who was wrong
Suddenly they both appeared in the doorway, all smiles and strangely jolly like
They said they wanted to join in, in our game
Something they'd very rarely do
I remember looking at them and thinking
These people...these people are in pain
I was so afraid they might fall and hurt themselves
I thought them that fragile
I was afraid to tackle them properly for the ball
I thought I should only pretend
Should let them win, let them score a goal
"Maybe then," I thought, "maybe then they'd be happy".
III
They seemed to be always trying their best
But being reined in by their limitations
One Christmas I remember, I wanted things, exciting things, toy soldiers, electric cars, a toy gun
They gave me this small model passenger plane, wasn't even a War plane (no fancy machine guns or rockets)
And this cheap little plastic antique globe of the world thing
I looked to see was there any treasure marked on it, but no!
I was so disappointed, these were ****** presents, not what I wanted at all
But when I looked in their faces, at the expectancy there
Them expecting me to be overjoyed and delighted with what I'd got
I felt this huge pity and sorrow for them,
So I smiled back at them and pretended their presents, they were the best presents of all.
IV
There was this tragic sadness about them, the adults
Almost like they weren't feeling the joy anymore, that for them the magic had gone out
Like the little child within them had all but died
You realized that what you were feeling was probably something they no longer felt
They were off lost in some other world
Overrun with cares and worries and fears
Yea, there was something wrong with the adults I always thought
When I was young
When I was small.
Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 5:20 PM UTC
Your unsure gestures sought out our bond
In whiskey glasses and cheap cigars,
With no more in common than our blood
That spilt upon lost chances and unspent years.
In that awkward silence we found our home
Those words unsaid were a common tongue,
And now I long to hear such nothings again,
As It was there you were my father and I your son.
TS Lefort November 2020
Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 5:34 PM UTC
There will be a day where I can look at him in the eye
And say
You are
Evil
You are a
Monster
You are not my dad anymore
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 2:47 AM UTC
I wish I could say
That life is much more beautful
I wish I could say
You don't appear in my dreams
I wish I could say
You are behind bars for hurting me
But all i can say is
My mum is dealing with the mess you created
Aug 22, 2020
Aug 22, 2020 at 6:14 AM UTC
I have learned to live
without you.
I'll watch
a game of football
and say
school is fine
and talk about
the weather
and tell you
that I am doing well.
But you don’t care
and I tell you exactly
what you want to hear.
You never want to hear
about the hard things,
about the tough stuff.
You never want to hear
about the things dads
are supposed to care about.
So I keep it short
and I keep it clean
and I cut out all of the fat.
That way
you only know
the part of me
that you didn’t ruin.
Jan 4, 2020
Jan 4, 2020 at 12:16 AM UTC
never find it funny
when my dad does it
but I pray to God that
he will never stop joking.
Cause by the time he's not here,
that jokes will mean everything.
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 6:56 AM UTC
I wonder,
were those drugs that important?
So important they took you away?
I wonder,
was it all worth it in the end?
Was it worth your life?
I wonder,
did you know how much your decisions affected me…
Jun 28, 2019
Jun 28, 2019 at 11:25 PM UTC
No man is as attentive to stoplights as the one who must leave his loved ones.
Jun 26, 2019
Jun 26, 2019 at 10:09 PM UTC
"Daddy it's four years now".
"I would like to think I've made you proud"
But that I hardly doubt.
"I'm looking down to my children now"
How they're granddad is not on lower ground.
"How you would love them".
"Ava's two now and ana six now.
"their so pretty accept you can't see them now.
If only dad you could see some times I think about you and wonder if were here now.
"Would you still be the man you were?"
Maybe you started fresh no suicidal thoughts inside your head?".
I always guessed there's something beyond death.
But if that was true I could see you here hug you back listen to your heart study your breath.
Just one minute a word of what you did why you had to hang your self and why I had to live.
Daddy daddy I miss you now.
But daddy I also know why you didn't want to live.
A late good bye four year flew by.
You'll always be my hero.
My dad my king.
Good bye father the angels sing.
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 6:49 PM UTC
I've met men
who would rather climb mountains
then raise families
they spill lies like fountains
time and time again
This is insanity
I've met mothers
Who would trade their children
For another high
Painted as they are, villains
But they still ask “why?”
As they dump it on their brothers
I’ve met parents
who don't let their kids cry
And they grow up mad
at themselves
At society
But deep down, they're sad
packing problems away on shelves
And it grows, anxiety
They try to down in Barents
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 11:57 PM UTC
My dad told me I shouldn’t sing
Because I didn’t have a musical voice.
So, of course, I felt I had to go
Prove him wrong. I didn’t have a choice.
You see, I knew for sure
From the early age of about ten years
That I was winning contests
And on stage getting lots of cheers.
First it was contests at fairs
And later it was in shows and events
At school, at church and some
Even took place in huge revival tents.
But he never spoke of these
Because he was seldom ever there.
He was either working late
Or home in his favorite big easy chair.
It would be years before I found
It was my actual voice he didn’t enjoy.
At first is was because I was young
And had the flutey piping sound of boy.
I chalked it up to style or poise,
But later, when I grew to be a tenor
I never had that manly sound.
High voiced men were automatically sinners.
So, I kept on singing, in night clubs
And plays and little theater around town
And got my applause from strangers
Because my father always let me down.
As you can probably tell from this
That betrayal still bothers me a little bit.
Sometimes words can hurt as much
As a drawing back and delivering a hit.
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 1:47 PM UTC
why does it always feel like every time
we interact we are either:
laughing or
arguing.
With everything that i do,
you always have an opinion or
some input that just needs to get out there.
(to a certain extent you should because you are my father)
We never really
talk
since you're either at work
or you're dealing with the three other kids
or you just want to talk with mom.
And i don't blame you.
But i just got used to
not being spoken to.
i started to like it.
everyone minding their own business.
Now you're trying to change things up and
have me open up more.
And i hate it.
Its so..
unusual.
I close up and then we get into
another argument..
predictable.
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 8:19 AM UTC
Oh father, father, father.
Where have you gone?
What have you done?
There is a ghost that beginning to look a little like you.
Lets raise a toast, father.
To the man that is never home,
To the man who does not love,
To the man who never has a plan.
Oh, father, father, father.
Look at what you have done.
Your children have stopped caring.
Your wife has given up.
Who do you have left?
You live here, but you may as well not.
You make these promises and stab us in the back.
I love you, daddy.
Can't you see?
You've ruined me.
You've ruined my siblings.
You've ruined my mother.
Remember? Always and forever?
I think it is time to let go,
and say our goodbyes.
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 4:02 AM UTC
Just a quick post to say Happy Father's Day to all the dads of HP.
Hope your day was filled with happiness and love.
May you be blessed.
Jun 18, 2017
Jun 18, 2017 at 9:32 PM UTC
I would've given birth
To you,
Endured whatever
Mothers do.
Instead, I did
What Dads do.
I rocked you
Til my future shook;
Watched you til
I couldn't look.
As you changed,
I changed too,
To do the things
That Dads do.
You were bathed,
Dressed and fed;
I loved you so much
I was saved.
If there's credit,
Well, I get it,
For teaching you to read.
I took the blame
When you got bored
With school's ABC's.
I followed you
In all your roles,
Your teams,
Your solos,
Your trips,
Your shows.
First to clap,
Last to sit;
I taped it all,
From start -
To finish.
I taught you
How to tie a lace,
Ride a bike,
Golf and skate.
When time arrived
For you to drive,
You learned
On standard,
Never stranded,
You came home alive.
Your highs
I took in stride,
By example taught
Humility's pride.
Your lows,
I couldn't internalize,
I dropped my guard
With my eyes.
When Dad's do well
It's a double edge,
The future wedge.
The world
Revealed
Desired you too.
I don't dismiss
What mothers do,
But when Dads do well,
Both lose you.
Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 6:58 AM UTC
You don't mention whom you met,
How you ripped your small black dress.
You don't share intimate stories;
What caused a smile,
What stokes your worries.
Arms dangle by your side,
You can't slip your hand in mine,
Hold me with your eyes,
Lay your head on my bed
With your good-night sigh.
We don't get our get-aways
As we did in by-gone days;
You left your keys to house and car,
Saying you would travel far;
So you hitched your hidden dreams
To a rising star,
Left my world, but not my life,
Polished your new cultured pearls.
Husbands now call you wives;
But you'll always be
My three wee girls.
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 1:55 PM UTC
I would've given birth
To you,
Endured whatever
Mothers do.
Instead, I did
What Dads do.
I rocked you
Til my future shook;
Watched you til
I couldn't look.
As you changed,
I changed too,
To do the things
That Dads do.
You were bathed,
Dressed and fed;
I loved you so much
I was saved.
If there's credit,
Well, I get it,
For teaching you to read.
I took the blame
When you got bored
With school's ABC's.
I followed you
In all your roles,
Your teams,
Your solos,
Your trips,
Your shows.
First to clap,
Last to sit;
I taped it all,
From start -
To finish.
I taught you
How to tie a lace,
Ride a bike,
Golf and skate.
When time arrived
For you to drive,
You learned
On standard,
Never stranded,
You came home alive.
Your highs
I took in stride,
By example taught
Humility's pride.
Your lows,
I couldn't internalize,
I dropped my guard
With my eyes.
When Dad's do well
It's a double edge,
The future wedge.
The world
Revealed
Desired you too.
I don't dismiss
What mothers do,
But when Dads do well,
Both lose you.
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 9:06 AM UTC