Not written.
Wrought.
In the living room my father sits
alone but for the dog, curled
languidly by his skeletal leg,
resigned, compliant.
Jake has grown accustomed
to the small cruelties;
an ear twisted, a tail pinched,
just to show who’s still boss.
My father lifts his hands
before his glazed, befuddled eyes,
examining their backs like antiques,
for what? A maker’s mark?
“I found my thrill on Blueberry Hill”
Fats Domino oozes from speakers.
This is a wine only CD, maudlin,
mawkish, perfect.
My father lifts his glass, unsteadily
to his protruding bottom lip,
takes a petulant sip, playing
it in his mouth.
The hands are raised again.
I doubt he knows anything,
or anyone as well as these.
How did a child’s hands become…?
“Tho’ we’re apart, you’re part of me still”
I raise my hands before my eyes,
nails carefully bitten, horny knuckles,
blue confluence of veins.
Oli 10/01/08
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Written by Josie (2732 comments posted) 10th January 2008 |
| I liked your poem Oli because it came at a time when I was also thinking of hands. My little grandson (the one in Winter Born Baby below) was asleep, head on my arm. His little baby hands were curled and side by side with mine. I thought: "How can hands change over the years so much?" Time is cruel. But, as I said in my poem, his hands haven't yet been affected by work - and that's the answer to it all. They're only used for twiddling every knob in sight. When he goes home it takes me ages to find radio 4 again. He can't say many words but can say "twiddling". Is it a boy thing - twiddling? |
Written by audrie (444 comments posted) 10th January 2008 |
It's frightening, isn't it, how we get to a certain age and can see our parents in ourselves. Of course, some people may be glad of that!
I think 'twiddling is a boy thing, in every sense of the word! |
Lovely piece of work
Written by patterjack (1159 comments posted) 10th January 2008 |
I like the imagery of
examining their backs like antiques,
for what? A maker’s mark?
and the effect of takes a petulant sip, where the word
petulant carries so much extra meaning .
The short lines give it impact, suggesting the feel of short term memory. Small cruelties and maudlin music-- very strong .
Really engaging !
patterjack |
Written by petetheverse (164 comments posted) 10th January 2008 |
Hi,
Very, very evocative of something nearly all of us are lucky/unlucky enough to have to come to terms with; the ageing process - for our parents, for ourselves.
I don't think that sentence does it justice, though, and is a little understated.
Bathos is a word that is usually used in a perjorative sense, but not here.
This piece has both bathos and pathos, and is wonderfully descriptive of one moment in that most telling of relationships - father and son.
Thank you.
It made me recall my own father, very very distinctively. And my own relationship with him.
Yes, thank you.
PTV |
Thanks all!
Written by Talisker (1321 comments posted) 10th January 2008 |
It is about hands Josie, I think they are remarkable in the way they age and tell tales. I'm glad that you are enjoying the new arrival.
There is a lot of bitterness, perhaps hidden, in this poem. Audrie hints at it, I see him in me and that doesn't make me happy. He is "part of me still".
What you say Brian is very valuable (PM) and Pete too - glad that you can connect with it on a personal level. I suppose we all share more than we think.
Thanks again all,
Oli  |
Written by Phil (6645 comments posted) 11th January 2008 |
Lost in a sea of poetic flounderings, I come upon this. Not high art, but a sweep of humanity. Not altogether pretty, but it allows me in to share your thoughts and they add to my own. There are aspects of your poetry that I envy, Oli. You seem to have an easy (and I'm sure it's not) ability to cut to the centre of living. There's no arsing about with arty-farty words - just a bit of kitchen sink realism that spreads a little understanding.
I've said it before - I hope to say it again - resonance - buttons pressed. While I can struggle with some poetry, this (as PJ says) engages.
You, I suspect, aren't entirely happy with it - but I'm more than glad to have read it.
Phil |
FATHER'S HANDS
Written by beatricelouise (215 comments posted) 21st January 2008 |
Wow! This is the type of poetry that truly engages one. When I think of my father's hands, I could cry.
I am so thrilled to have come to this site. Your poem is one reason, and I suspect you and others will be turned off of mine.
I just don't have the ability as yet, but I want to learn even though I'm elderly. Sixty-one already. Sshh! Don't tell anyone. I look at my hands and ....! Oh, well! Life is short.
I won't tell you my favourite lines, because they all meld into a masterpiece as far as I'm concerned. Just love it.  |
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