Chaos reigns as it often does when he’s around
Yet flight is rejected
Only with complete presence can you detect the landmines before they explode
He crafts them carefully so you almost believe you put them there yourself
Complaints of a hard day of work and coming home to no dinner on the table
He bats the covered plate off the table and it crashes against the wall
The white of the eggs stick guiltily to the window
While the yoke breaks and makes a dramatic descent down the glass
Landing with silent thunder on top of the pink ham and scattered home fries
As my brothers and I run laughing hysterically from the room
Knowing our own peril, we can’t help but point out,
He is of course, right
Dinner is not on the table.
This poem contributed to dVersePoets Open Link Night Week 12
This poem contributed to dVersePoets Open Link Night Week 12
16 comments:
Great verse portraying your memory, like how you came full circle there at the end too.
yikes...a scary childhood moment though you played it a bit light in the end...scary to grow up in that place...
I grew up in similar circumstances and it wasn't fun at all, was it!
Sharp and concise look at it by you.
Well penned.
They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger - and in this case smarter. Didn't take me long to recognize and run from any violent or controlling behavior in boyfriends later in life.
Yes, you can't run because you can't watch your back when you're running--I did anyway, though. The landmines simile is very apt, and the line at the end is played for that hysterical laugh we reserve for things that are embarrassingly, hopelessly wrong. excellent poem.
Love the imagery and the twist at the end.
Scary yet you made light at the end..Liked it very much..
a song, this is?
It is scary.
The reality through the eyes of a child as well as the innocence that cushions the child from the harshness...with that funny observation at the end.
Sensitively handled and well balanced.
I wouldn't confuse "irony" for "funny". Another case of how these traits, this artfulness affects generation after generation. It takes a lot to overcome it. I think it's way past time, and works like these help. Well done.
Hi Crystal... Wow... That is some really sad memory.... That is a darling picture though. Things were different in the 50's and 60's. I think younger people don't understand the feelings of those years. Dad wasn't around all the time, and when he was, we just put wiht however he acted. I have a couple of memories like that too. I'm glad you and your siblings took the lighter side, realizing that yes, dinner is indeed no longer on the table!
Moving and powerful
Thank you all for your comments. Lest people think there was nothing more to my dad than how I’ve depicted him here, as with most people, he was multi dimensional and matured and mellowed in his later years. I’d like to share a poem my mom wrote about him a few years before he died.
To My Husband
He’s a man of self-assurance
A man of clever wit
A man who dug the deepest hole
And then climbed out of it
He’s sure and proud and steady
And knows what’s just and right
He walks away from no task
Not even from a fight
The gentleness within him
Comes as no surprise
You hear it in his laughter
You see it in his eyes
He is a man of reason
Of real stability
You see it in his actions
In his ability
Inner strength and wisdom
Appear in every deed
He’s a man who will not follow
But always chose to lead
I’m proud to be beside him
To help him all I can
For he’s the one I married
My friend, and yes, my man
That's a beautiful poem too..... I think your mother was very proud of him. As I said earlier, those years were just a different time. We simply accepted those things, those little bits of human emotion that popped up every once in a while because we are human, all of us. And dad was simply dad, and the most important thing about that? He was there.... I loved my father too, even though he did a couple of things worse than throwing dinner onto the window...
wow amazing I never had to deal with this as a child but I had a good friend who did. This was not a happy childhood memory it was a scary one if you ask me so well done
http://gatelesspassage.com/2011/10/04/memories/
it is nice to look back and conclude where we are now and find ways for improvement.
lovely piece.
Two poets in the family! And a man who grew up. A more hopeful story than your poem alone. Glad to hear it. Viloence is a male problem. Glad to hear at least one of us grew out of it!
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