Posts Tagged ‘Father’

Every Dad’s Wonder: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

February 8, 2014

Does every father/
wonder if he’ll ever see/
his daughter again?

Not Yet: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

October 5, 2013

I thought I’d failed in/
my responsibility /
as father. Not yet.

Tales Of Rescue (‘Cuz That’s What Dad’s Do) : Revolutionary ImproVerse Poem

July 5, 2013

O'Day sailing on Lake Winneconne before being demasted, July 4th, 2013My sister told the tale/
of being under sail/
years before.

She capsized,/
but she knew,/
and was not surprised/
with how quickly from the shore/
our Father flew/
to her rescue.

While I was glad/
that she was loved by our Dad,/
I knew/
Between him and me/
there would never be/
such sharing/
or attentive caring.

Yesterday, decades hence,/
my cousin and I went/
on a day sail,
and our mast ripped apart and failed.

So, we drifted, demasted,
but my anxiousness only lasted/
a moment or two/
before I knew/
that once more/
my Dad had watched from shore/
and quickly, in his boat without crew,
was coming to his child’s rescue.

Because that’s what Dads do.

I Hurt My Daughters: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

January 2, 2013

I never tried to/
hurt my daughters, but I still/
broke their tender hearts.

Something No Father Should Face: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

October 19, 2012

No dad should reach the/
point where he must tell his girl:/
“Go. Die. I can’t help.”

It Frustrates Me I Don’t Know How: Revolutionary Improv Blogging Free Verse

September 5, 2012

I confess.
I don’t know how.

I know how to take troubled youths
and mold them into a fun-loving, happy,
“Did you have fun?” “YEAH!” team.

I know how to take eager young minds
and show them things in nature
their parents and teachers can’t see.
To teach them the balance between all things.
To help them help the world heal.

I know how to take young men and young women
into the wilderness,
how to prepare their wood so well
that it only takes one match
to keep them warm
and cook their food.

I know how to take illiterate folk
who for decades have claimed they
can’t write,
and have them create verse and prose
so moving
they can’t believe
the words fall from their fingertips.

I know how to take senior citizens
who feel they have no value
and bring out their stories
and find their worth
and make them smile
again.

I know how to make people
laugh,
rejoice,
size the day,
observe,
be happy.

I know how to make senior citizens
and babies smile and laugh,
how to make dogs
wag their tails.

I know how to take
suburban landscapes,
dead, barren lawns,
and change them into
multi-hued gardens
of scented delight
and nourishment
and beauty.

I know how to find
ancestors long gone,
how to help others
find their roots,
how to work through
the mists and dust of centuries passed
to find themselves.

I know how to take
a stranger by the hand,
look him in the eye,
connect,
smile,
and give him hope.

I know how to observe
people,
nature,
situations,
the world
and write verse
and prose
that move people
to joy
and contemplation
and action.

I know how to stand
in front of congregations
and make them weep
with joy
because I know.

But my daughter
is dying,
because I don’t know
how to navigate
a system that does not
value any of the things
I know how to do.
A system that requires
so much paperwork
that she will be
dead
before I know
what I don’t know.

And I don’t know how
to do what I must now
do.

Watching, Helpless, My Daughter Die: Revolutionary Improv Sonnet Lament

September 3, 2012

I’m watching my daughter die.
She’s starving her body to death.
Why can’t I even cry?
Why can’t I barely draw a breath?

What brought her to this bleak abyss?
Does it really matter?
All I know is that she’d be missed;
My world would be much sadder.

So I’m putting aside my selfish ways,
my lack of focus and my pride.
I will spend my talents and days
in efforts to fix her dying insides.

Was I responsible for her ills? I now don’t care.
But I know I’ll be at fault if I just leave them there.

Leaping Into Darkness: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

July 15, 2012

Often we must leap/
into darkness and trust that/
Father will catch us.

OR

Often we must leap/
into the unknown and trust/
Father to catch us.

Absent Dad: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

June 10, 2012

If I’m busily/
doing my own thing, I miss /
caring for children.

My 5:39 p.m. Commute – Dad Called It: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

January 4, 2012

My father was right./
He told me: “There is beauty /
everywhere.” There is.