I know it kills you a bit
every day, to have never known
your real father, but you're better off.
It was just a tiresome spinning
prison's front door, and not one,
but thirteen years spread between every
big-house in the state of California.
Which, by the way, is a glorious place to live.
If you are living.
The same stale lies,
and broken promises behind three inches
of hazy bullet proof glass, and filthy booths.
Two way phones reeking, and coated with the
breath of desperate girlfriends, and bored
screaming children in droopy diapers.
My initials carved in every booth's table top.
Kind of like taking your desk from
sixth grade with you through high school,
college, work, retirement.
Having to explain to everyone
at each place, why Billy loves Jeniffer
is etched upon its surface. Exactly,
Nine inch nails.
When I got older and wiser,
Grandma Sharon would say
let's go see your dad. I would huff,
and puff my protests all the way there
and back; As if I were possesed,
and on my way to some dark-age-exorcism.
"I'm sick of going there every week
for Christ's sake. Why can't he grow up,
and decide not to go back in every
fucking two years, and save everyone
the ironic trip there and back?"
She would only reply with that look
of a mother devoted to a sick helpless child.
While I was the harbinger of bad news
declaring that we give up hope.
If she only knew that hope
Can't change the hopeless
that fear change more than
freedom, any day, any month.
Any year, anyway...
She might have
finally slept for one night
without a self smoking cigarette
perched and hanging audienceless.
From her limp yellowing hand
Upon that couch in front of
that 1985 Mitsubishi big screen tv.
With its persistent droning 'three in the
morning station identification.'
Accompanied by that inevitable national
anthem complete with a flag waving
to no one except a room full of smoke,
and the tick of an antique clock
from a shadowed unlit corner.
Ten years later.
On her death bed.
She kept calling me by our father's name
while deep in the grip of a morphine delusion.
Riddled by lung and brain cancer, and years
of waiting by the phone,
and shooting the shit at the mailbox
With John, the postman.
(At least he made her laugh)
I answered her back the way
I thought he might have, had
he given a shit,
but since he was incarcerated,
again, and it had been so
many years since I had seen
him, or my initials.
I forgot how he sounded
So I just winged it.
Kind of like how he winged being a dad?
Her need and unconditional love to see him
was much stronger than my acting skills.
But unfortunately, it was not
strong enough to
keep her alive.
A few years back I heard
that you were living in Henderson.
I also heard you were having some
problems with drugs.
I am an addict.
For fourteen years I have
stuffed that void with
whatever was on hand.
Your younger brother Mathias,
is also very deep in denial
about drugs and life.
Our father buys them from him.
(He has been out four five years...)
We don't speak.
The past has saturated
everything to the point
of no return.
If for some reason I
don't make tomorrow?
I want you to know that
I love you, and I can
say that killing yourself
for that piece of shit
would be nothing but
a waste of time.
trust me, because Joshua,
that's something I know for sure
even from the depths of
this endless abyss of
broken promises and
the yesterday children.
Self destruction only
proves that you care
less than he does.
Tonight, I will pray for you.
Since, I am too far from myself
to pray for tomorrow, or me.
I am writing you this letter
because I am very sick Joshua.
I can't even get out of bed
in the morning without getting
high. My heart is broken.
I am running on fumes, and
desperate momentum.
My will to live has been
swallowed by my need
to never let go
of something I
never had.
If I was the big brother
they never let you have?
I would say live to
let go, before letting
go turns into holding -
- on for dear life.
Author notes
Never expect something from someone unless you expect to give it back...I EXPECT NOTHING.
A letter to my younger brother whom I've never met.
Written January 3rd, 2004
In a list
A contest entry
- Fatherless On Fathers Day by Shannon62875.
300 points, ended July 11, 2006, 17 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 26 of 26
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You have quite a bit of talent flowing through your pen! Well done! Keep penning . . . keep sharing . . . and much luck to you in the contest!
Maggie -
This is really good. Very ddep and moving. You put a lot of emotion in it, and I'm glad it doesn't rhyme. Thanks so much for entering my contest! Best of luck to you in it,
<333
Hannah -
powerful, sad, a mind provoking piece of work. shaz xx
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great
yes this is very sad. I feel what ur saying about ur father cuz im in that same boat. My dad is..........., anyway great poem and im glad u entered it.
Dorian -
nin indeed.
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This is a great poem. It's sad but it's great.
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This was a very sad poem, it almost made me cry...good luck in the contest
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wow thats all i will say
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an absolutely breath taking piece, the raw rmotions and gut-wrenching honesty scream out to be heard and beg for understanding,,,as always you prove that your taalent applies to anything you attempt...Bravo
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this was a very sad poem, i really dont know wat to say, i really enjoyed reading it and i am sorry that you never met your brother i know how it feels myself it sucks i know but u know..i wish i coulda met at least a few of mine, but it just didnt happen for reasons why, i don't want to talk about so yeah but anyways awsome poem i enjoyed it and it was very sad i hope things will be okay for ya because i could really feel pain in you from reading this goodluck in the contest.
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sad, emotional poem - full of heart felt emotions. It's quite complicated but not too complicated. It's a poem that you have to read to the end. It's really, really good. It brought me to tears - thankyou for entering xxxx
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"I can't even get out of bed
in the morning without getting
high"
I know how you feel. Wow... this was so descriptive and awesome. I can feel the frustration and sadness leaking through. Great job, good luck, and thanks for entering the contest.
~Sarah~ -
Painful. I don't know what else to say except that it is well written and has good flow. A very painful topic, one that I am grateful that I do not know personally. You speak of it as if you know exactly what it feels like, or know someone who does, and that is sad. I wish you all the best, and congratulations on winning the silver trophy.
~Goldmare~
May the Horse be with you
PS: I also find it interesting how you include actual names in it...gives it a personal touch. Well done. -
That was amazing, I loved it. It made me sad and a bit depressed even, just to thing of how hard it must and how petty I am to complain about my priveledged life. We all feel the same pain, but how much do each of us have? You described this situation beautifully, and I feel for the person described, and if you are connected and it is true I wish you the best of luck as well, truly I do. *hugs* Good luck in the contest, splendidly done.
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Wow! so Wow.. this write is incredible, your style of writting is so much like a friend of mine's it made it very easy to flow just imagining her reciting the poem. I love this piece it is extremely touching, I hope that you keep writting, because I loved this piece so much.
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wow that was really sad. very very emotional and descriptive. great write. thanks for entering and good luck in the contest!
-britt -
horus8~
Hey! Thank you for entering my contest.
~!~Babie Gurl~!~ -
I like to think, sometimes, that I am thinking to hard, but I can get that to come out in my works. I just can't seem to avoid simplistic descriptions. You, however keep right on going 'til the point is made. I wish I could write something that would fill more that one page. Keep up the good work!
Trent -
If she only knew that hope
Can't change the hopeless
who fear change more than
freedom any day, any month.
Any year, anyway...
live to
let go, before letting
go turns into holding -
- on for dear life.
My favorite lines from your sad poem. I'm assuming part of this is auto-biographical. Even if it isn't, the life you've written about would have been tough for anyone. Well done! Good Luck in the contest!
Maureen
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Thanks for entering! WOW! ummm... kind of speechless. I liked the flow and the passion behind your words. Though I am sorry for the pain that must have inspired them. Good luck in the contest.
~JayLynn -
Absolutely.
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There are times when I dont think that I can stand to read your works, this one is quite literally bringing me to tears. And yet, despite the hurt i feel for you, i can't help but keep reading, you are a heartwrenching novel and i dont want to put you down...
Nyx... -
very touching is this true
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Lots of pain in this write, a lifetime of anger and sadness and hopelessness, wanting things to be different, but unable to change it. I don't know if this is autobiographical, but whether it is or not, its a wonderful piece. We can't choose our family, but we can choose not to follow in their footsteps - but oh how we love them, or so it seems, even when they keep digging deep trenches to wallow in over and over again. These people were brought to life in this write. I read your work and I think I know where you are going, and then you take a turn and its where it needed to be all along. Really nice work.
~ becky -
Got it thanks.
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Whoa... damn!
This one touched me. Geesh
My eyes are watering, excellent poem... very sad.
~ Wendy
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