Have you written a poem about your father? If you would like to share it leave a link in the comments section and I will link to your poem in this post.
I would like to direct your attention first to a poem by Rax, a talented poet who I read often. She posts at her blog, Soul Phantasm.
Maps by Rax
Father and Father Revisited - Your Day. By Daydreamer
What Daddy Did by Sara ** Warning- adult themes and unhappy subject manner**
My Taveling Dad by Sorceress
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http://realityisimmaterial.blogspot.com/2006/06/father-and-father-revisited-your-day.html
4 June 2007
After the storm, my mind cleared.
And a high wind arose and blew the tropics north.
running quartz crystals through a blender.
sand through your engines.
bubbles in your bays.
estuaries reaching out toward forbidden seas...
sand through your eyes.
5 June 2007
Calm as baby's breath
as peaceful as the storm's eye
Clouds spread and drawn with rough strokes of stratospheric winds
a warm and windy tropical day.
7 June 2007
Black water at dusk.
Lighting on the horizon.
Warm winds coming in across the darkening waters.
A flash of white wings as an egret takes flight.
And Thunder like God clearing his throat.
8 June 2007
Morning star in the still of the clear, dark waters.
a sky as clear eyed as a young girl.
bruised and tattered storm remnants limp off in the gathering light.
9 June 2007
Tickled her fancy.
giggling all the day long.
pretty good for a Saturday.
Clouds on the lake floating aimlessly by.
She smiled big--grinned really.
12 JUne 2007
A silver sky
ripe for the mirror.
you can not see yourself in this mirror
you can only see others
moreover, you can only see what others choose to expose.
Their houses, their boats, their sea-doos.
Birds skimming low over the water could
like as not
see them selves if they were to look down
as they skim low over the water
but they never do.
Rather they allow their reflections to chase them
quick and sharp over the still, glistening waters
while the bird's mind remains ever fixed on
food, or other birds, or escaping those damn noisy humans.
A dense forest impenetrable as a gaze.
13 JUne 2007
Like angry bee's eyes
the metal screen seen through the bamboo blinds.
A million insects dot the lake spreading micro ripples
14 June 2007
Of Fly Catchers and hidden lakes.
Of sleeping lizards and morning dew.
It is of birdsong and misty dawns
and fleeced clouds floating in a still pool.
The waters ripple awake in the gathering morn.
The first water birds head out for the far shore.
My Dad the traveling man
Sorceress
Is your poem supposed to be all symbols?
Poetry
Thanks for sharing but we usually don't post poems in the comments.
Check out the post titled Send Me a Poem. You can submit one poem and background info about yourself to IlovetowriteSMP@yahoo.com and I will post it on Poets Who Blog.
Hi writerwoman:
Thanks for linking me...
This poem is a mix of symbol and the real thing.Since anyone can identify with their father as being there and not at the same time, the poem could have an element of both.
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