At the mark he stood entreating,
The courage yet to pass.
And silently he walked repeating,
Every moment that was fleeting,
Through the doors of polished glass.
Up the stairs that awestruck lay,
Made long to suffer through.
And passage like a holiday,
That bleeds the conscience down to gray,
Then ends, but seems untrue.
At journey’s close the child sleeps,
While the angels congregate.
And the elder softly creeps -
To brush away the downy sweeps,
That pen-sively illuminate.
How then might a Father stand,
And cast His watchful eye?
Over – all the deeds of man,
Sleeping there in never-land,
Ending in awakening, with want for alibi.
The chilly air sparks a sigh,
In the child laid to rest.
His fuzzy eyes,
Then opened wide,
And danced about in jest.
But no longer was the presence.
Absent, empty, gone.
And it seems a final sentence,
Has come to pass without repentance,
Father has moved on.
Author notes
Option 5.
The rhyme scheme is ABAAB.
I've been told the work is unclear before, so to illuminate:
This is about a father coming home, late, for the millionth night in a row. We all know the type... the sort too busy at work, or whatever, who only see their families as ships passing in the night.
The father struggles to climb the stairs because he is overburdened by the guilt of his homecoming. He knows he is failing his loved ones in the most important area - affection and presence.
The third stanza shows him considering his child, asleep in his bed. He bushes the child's hair from his face.
Stanza four reveals to the careful reader that the father in question is God, and the child is mankind. It also laments a distance from our humanity that is wholly our responsibility.
Stanza five shows the child awakening and looking around the room, fully expecting his father to be there, perhaps from the smell of his cologne or just the father/son connection. ("The chilly air" in Stanza five is a nod to the "chilly reception" we may receive from whatever higher power upon considering our nature.)
At this point, stanza six should be relatively self explanatory, but just in case: the "father", upon confronting his child, finds the child lacking in a fundamental way that stems from choices made by the child alone. And leaves, knowing that whatever our future, it is ours to create, not His.
A contest entry
- Pick! It's up to YOU! by redmarkonthewall.
525 points, ended March 6, 2007, 27 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Options For All, I Want Emotions! by okadadokie.
550 points, ended March 20, 2007, 40 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - biggest contest in allpoetry history! (i hope) need 1,000 entries!! by Gasp.
1300 points, ended July 11, 2007, 638 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 18 of 18
-
I really liked this poem, I appreciate you explaining it, I would love to write like you but dont think I have the talent.
-
Such a sad poem, yes I know the type, a dad who works all day and when he does come home doesn't want to be bothered. Typical. You did very well in explaining your poem, for those who might not understand it, I liked the rhyming, creative. Good luck.
~Oka
-
Great Quintets. Your meter and rhyme were done very well. Congratulations on the silver!
Let the ink flow!
blessings Sandi
-
Very Well Done
I applaud you on your amazing write. I like the rhyme scheme, you made it work so well. It is a very good writeand I enjoyed reading it. Thank you for your entry and the best of luck to you! -
You're right in that the poem can be somewhat ambiguous but your author's note clears that up very neatly. This poem has a very nice, tight flow and rhyme to it and surprisingly it can come across as feeling somewhat dark (or at least darker than I anticipated). It is a very thought provoking subject and love how you're relayed it in such a narrative fashion and with such surprising brevity. The temptation might be to go on and on for stanzas about this but you manage to wrap it up neatly in only a few. Very musical with a good beat. Thanks for enterinag and good luck.
-
Actually,
when I first read this I wanted to think Edgar Allen Poe, at least that's the way it pulled me. I found it rather pleasant to read, and I particularly liked "pen-sively" and "over - all", etc because they forced me to read it a particular way which, something I'm dearly fond of. Forcing the reader to read it how you wrote it.
The whole aspect made me think of a father, possibly an older one, just peeking in on their child. Perhaps for the last time, or before off they go to do something earth-shattering. "The chilly air sparks a sigh", just that feeling of content from the presence.
I found the ABBAB scheme rather well suited, an interesting read. Well done.
thanks for taking the time to enter, and best of luck.
-
Great job. Honor and valor. All the traits of a great warrior. This piece reminds me of a knight ready to charge out into a vast world of wonders and dangers. Good luck poet in the contest.
-
Interesting.. when I used to work, well try to work with form.. ( you have recently experienced ..my lack of it )
I tried the ABAAB and I found that no matter how polished it was it was always disconcerting to my ear.. so to be clear, it's not something that works for me..
and to be fair, when I say it doesn't work for me here either, I have to add that even Frost's and many other classical pieces which use that specific rhythm don't work for me either..
I think it's because my ear wants to hear it in a tight ABAB rhythm.. or something that still incorperates the ABAB.. like ABAABB ...or ABAABA..
as for content.. it's not exactly unique but it is ..in the sense that I can't quite tell which side of the fence you're on...as far as faith goes..and I like that.. it makes the message a bit more broad..
because .. it appeals to both sides of the fence .. rather than the extremes..
that said.. the rhyming is ..again.. well done.. a bit bumpy in places.. but I suspect that's the dislike of the rhythm .. on my part, and not your meter.. ..
-
-
Thanks.. I won't go so far as to say that I think messing up the rhyme scheme adds personality or individuality (I don't), but I am not riding the Concord to fix it, either.
The flow in my works is often a place inside my head that is frequently inaccessable, in part, to others. If I ever write commerical poetry (and I may have an obligation to the contests I am entering) I am going to have to try to excise that hidden tumor. For now, it keeps the writing personal... and eternally flawed - like its creator. -
-
that I can understand.
mine is in my head as well, tapped out to the beats in the words as "I" hear them... and of course I suppose half the time ..if not most of the time, only I'm aware of how it is supposed to go together..
but then. I think those little hitches are also what makes those of us who use sound and rhythm.. who we are, those little flaws ..are always unique..
-
-
Agreed... except that I think my hating of non-rhyming poetry comes from the thrust of not understand what rule-set is involved. Most of the time it looks like people just writing whatever the hell they please.. which is fine, but does not make good poetry.
-
-
agreed... it doesn't.. give me a poet who knows the rules ..then knows how to break them...any day over one who only breaks the rules..
because the second one is working on luck alone.. -
-
Well said.
-
-
-
-
-
-
Ok, I noticed this is close to a limerick, but the most limerickish stanza is the second last one, because the 3rd and 4th lines are like half-lines.
Other than that... nothing much to say. The metering isn't consistant, so... 7.5/10 for that, the content... nice, prolly 8.6/10. Cohersion(is that how it's spelled?) is about 6.8/10 not to be mean, but some of it is just too random. Overall, 8.9/10 because of the great form and good use of female rhymes.
-
-
Interesting that you came away with that. The rhyming scheme is ABAAB directly inspired by Robert Frost's Road Not Taken.
I'm not taking offense, but I'd be curious to know what you found random about it. Maybe there is something I can fix. -
-
Maybe I'm just not understanding your meanings, but some of the analogies you use are just, hard to comprehend. Par Exampla: "That bleeds the conscience down to gray", is that a reference to the brain being gray matter... or changing concience (just thought of this) from having a black and white side, to just gray...
And what do you mean "His fuzzy eyes"?
Nothing else I can really put my finger on... I like the ending, kinda loses hope for mankind, because of the neglect towards the Father.
Oh, and what is the "presence" that is no longer absent/empty/gone? -
-
"down to gray" is meant to be read as "completely" or, until there is no more blood to come out.
"Fuzzy eyes" - his eyes are "fuzzy" from sleep, like when you first wake up in the morning and you're stumbling around.
The presence is that of the father by the bedside, in this work he is both literal and metaphorical. The child is clearly mankind, but the image use to portray us is that of a little boy, finally awakening, and coming to find that a terrible duality exists: he has both lost faith, and faith has lost him.
Very nice take on the ending... perfectly conveyed meaning.
-
-
-
-
I never know what to say about your poems.
Adding your comment:
1 - 18 of 18
