Father

In cars we fled into the nights and years

until the daylight bled all over you

the white lines blurring into one long endless route

to somewhere that wasn’t  here because

you never wanted to be wherever you were

geography jumper with a runaway heart

my childhood map of the world

the borders of each new place shady and blurred

the depth of our temporary roots

defined by your whims and the quality of your lies

Truckstops and diners, gas stations and rest stops

The only homes I’ve ever really known

Temporary

Cold

In transit

Just like you

Father

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Author: valo

I am a poet, writer and activist with a special interest in human rights for children and women as well as the elimination of poverty worldwide. If you read this today, feed someone locally for me will you? Drop off a non perishable food item at the food bank nearest you and consider yourself hugged. Thank you!

7 thoughts on “Father”

  1. Another great piece. I think we all have some sort of Father issues going on. As a father I’ve begun to see my Dad (who I never remember living with) as a man who had a hard time dealing with all of his own inner stuff. We come to our Dads with an eternal need that may never be met. It is sad when we think of all the things we missed. But we did get something; you, your travels and experiences, and a great poem. I want to accept my Dad, who I might see or speak to once a year, as a man with his own struggle. I hope my daughters are gracious enough with me when the time comes. Beautiful piece. Thank you.

    1. Thank you Kevin for gleaning something thoughtful from this verse. Fathers, mothers, siblings, all can be a fertile ground for creative expression and hopefully a better understanding of the pain and division too many people experience. Yes, I did learn to be a fearless traveller with a broader perspective of human nature and for that I’m grateful. I just wish it hadn’t come wrapped in the abuse.

  2. I liked this poem a lot val, is great, is so sad, I almost cried, I felt like I could have wrote that from my dad (not that well written of course),except for the ending, that was not related to my life.
    I can see very strong feelings along with a thickened skin in this memory of the past.

    I guess we had it rough.

    1. I guess we did Mariana, which is why I think you and I relate without the need to explain much to each other. We share certain personality traits that makes us both survivors. Much love from me to you sweet Mariana. HUGS

  3. definitely! I’m also thinking of trying to write about my father to. I am doing a reading where my father free up amd Im hoping to really research when I go there 🙂

    1. Ya know Jessie, I’ve been thinking of writing a book of poetry about my childhood and maybe I will use this as the title, just because I respect you as a poet and you articulated the value in the phrase. hugs Thank you sweet friend.

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