You make me angry: Your choices and selfishness Robbed him of a life. For more Poetry, click here. For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available … Continue reading Angry. A haiku.
My love for you is bottomless without end infinite it is sunbeams and moonbeams and cluttered thoughts laughter and pain you are my sun and my moon and all the cliches in between and while your light shines I will … Continue reading My Son My Sun. A poem.
I remember my father, as he is now and then, anchored to that fading chair with fading hairline and fading eyes, the absence of smoke from unfiltered cigarettes, not so heavy in the air. Less the cough from tar-filled lungs … Continue reading Father. A poem.
My son, God love him, turned twenty this year. It’s hard not to think of him as a teenager, though, as he still lacks that special something that signifies him as an adult. No, not body hair; he’s got more than enough of that–inherited from his grandfather, who’s known as the ‘silverback’ (yeah, you guessed it. After the gorilla). It’s common sense I’m talking about. That undefinable understanding about how to get by in life, how stuff works; that sort of thing. No, not how the internal combustion engine works, because even I don’t understand that. It’s about the basics: … Continue reading The Good Son.
Every once in a while, I find myself in a mental space I’d rather not be in. And it doesn’t seem to take much to get me there. It’s a sure sign of poor mental health when a clothes washing … Continue reading Meltdowns happen.
I often ideate about endless sleep, when the lights are dim, and my thoughts are deep. I sought it once, but I screwed it up (if I wait forty years, I’ll get what I want). My new long term goal: … Continue reading New Goal. A poem.
See the world. But not through your own eyes. Try his. Try seeing and yet not seeing, failing to understand what they truly perceive. Messed up signals, like a traffic jam waiting to happen. Open your mouth, like his mouth, and watch the words tumble out: unannounced, tactless and indiscreet; a crossword of errors on a big broadsheet. Walk alone, not by yourself, but like him: truly alone, like the world has eaten you up and spat you out. Deserted, when you truly needed love instead of doubt. This is how he feels. So extend a hand. Feel with him. … Continue reading Through His Eyes. A poem.
There are rabbits in my back yard Each day they rise to greet the light With eager noses, seek daily bread While the alpha, tall and bright Watches oh, so protectively Together, the family eats again I had a family once like them It now feels like so long ago I loved them so, my family lost The rabbits are reminders then With faith and hope I’ll survive the cost Continue reading Family Lost. A poem.
You regale me with tales Until the night comes down And I’m in need of a drink But you’re still not done Lucky I love you, son Continue reading Non-stop. A poem.
A poem about fatherhood and love for one’s son. 🙂 Continue reading Son. A poem.
My teenage son, Padawan-Nerd-in-Training, stayed over on the weekend (as he does every weekend, so nothing new there). Padawan is a YouTube fan and has a number of channels he subscribes to. I, being an antiquated, internet hating has-been, try to avoid anything internet related other than this blog. Padawan showed me a few videos that were really interesting, about why crap videos and news stories attract so much internet attention. This video talks about the theory behind clickbait, fake news headlines and human behaviour: For more about clickbait, the YouTube algorithm and why we as an audience click particular types of stories, check this video … Continue reading Clickbait! The what’s and wherefore’s
Every time I drop my teenage son off at his mother’s after staying with me for the weekend, he waves me off with a look of intense poignancy that tears me apart. He has stayed over almost every weekend since he was six months old. I am his father and his friend. And I’m also guilt-stricken because I can’t be there for him all the time, the way I think I should be. Continue reading Fatherhood – Never-ending Love and Never-ending Guilt
My late-teens son, Padawan Nerd-in-Training, rarely listens when I offer advice. I can see his eyes glazing and his brain slowly switching off the brilliant lecture I have so carefully devised. He becomes a literal “brick wall”. Continue reading “There is no try. Just do.”
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