"admonishes" poems - Hello Poetry

In childhood, your father’s name is DAD Now grown, maybe with children of your own But his name is still DAD DAD, the teacher, the consoler, the advisor Admonishes: “Drive safe” and “Save your Money” Today he’s the bard “This is like prison,” DAD laments while rolling his eyes Tubes like thin plastic chains tether his deflated body to blinking panels; paintings (factory printed ones) pretend the hospital room is more than just a sterile space Today, DAD’s eyes cast a faraway gaze, projecting And I see the characters in his story I see the 10 year old boy he describes, who snuck to stash a set Of English Composition Texts in the boy’s bathroom To escape Mrs. McElroy’s Fourth Grade course in Morose Poetry I see the thin, sandy blond, 6 foot 2 high school rabblerouser Who broke into the Vice Principal’s old Fiat And buried Stilton cheese in the dashboard All done on a sweltering May school day The anecdote is punctuated with a smirk and a: “Who would do a thing like that?” Stories of when he spotted a shy brunette at the dance and knew Knew he was to marry her; Stories of when his own DAD grasped his infant grandson’s dimpled hand Before giving in to complications of a heart attack The bard stops and exhales a sigh He cringes in his crinkled skin Sunken eyes squeeze close “I’m sorry” the nausea interrupts his tale “These drugs are…” “It’s okay. Take your time” I console, trying to comfort the pain in the room Now I’m the consoler, taking on the job to ameliorate Now this man, vulnerable in his suffering, is no longer DAD Now mortal, a child, a brother, a lover, a patient A man chained by the body’s sickness He is distilled by chemo reduced to a soul, who, through affliction, Forgets As his children remember He is as helpless in this life as we are.

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Jun 17, 2016

Jun 17, 2016 at 12:38 AM UTC

artsyorchid

My Father-In-Law in Chemo

In childhood, your father’s name is DAD Now grown, maybe with children of your own But his name is still DAD DAD, the teacher, the consoler, the advisor Admonishes: “Drive safe” and “Save your Money” Today he’s the bard “This is like prison,” DAD laments while rolling his eyes Tubes like thin plastic chains tether his deflated body to blinking panels; paintings (factory printed ones) pretend the hospital room is more than just a sterile space Today, DAD’s eyes cast a faraway gaze, projecting And I see the characters in his story I see the 10 year old boy he describes, who snuck to stash a set Of English Composition Texts in the boy’s bathroom To escape Mrs. McElroy’s Fourth Grade course in Morose Poetry I see the thin, sandy blond, 6 foot 2 high school rabblerouser Who broke into the Vice Principal’s old Fiat And buried Stilton cheese in the dashboard All done on a sweltering May school day The anecdote is punctuated with a smirk and a: “Who would do a thing like that?” Stories of when he spotted a shy brunette at the dance and knew Knew he was to marry her; Stories of when his own DAD grasped his infant grandson’s dimpled hand Before giving in to complications of a heart attack The bard stops and exhales a sigh He cringes in his crinkled skin Sunken eyes squeeze close “I’m sorry” the nausea interrupts his tale “These drugs are…” “It’s okay. Take your time” I console, trying to comfort the pain in the room Now I’m the consoler, taking on the job to ameliorate Now this man, vulnerable in his suffering, is no longer DAD Now mortal, a child, a brother, a lover, a patient A man chained by the body’s sickness He is distilled by chemo reduced to a soul, who, through affliction, Forgets As his children remember He is as helpless in this life as we are.