Big Wes

Seems like the right piece to feature today.

Sometimes I get to talking
And I make that mistake.

Inadvertently, I say "My Dad
Is", or "does", or "has".

In that moment it hits me like
A steel-toed kick to the midsection,
And all of the wind leaves my soul.

That's when I realize all over
Again that you are gone.
That it's "was", or "did", or "had".

Never again will I hear you
So seized with boisterous laughter
That you begin coughing uncontrollably.

No more will your soft, yet jabbing wit
Gently set me on the proper path.

I have to find my own paths now.

Reviews

[DavidRyan]

This is amazingly well written. Sad, beautiful, a great ode to a parent. I use to sit in my house when I was younger, and extremely worry about what was going to happen to me when my parents were dead. How I would be able to set a VCR up without them, wash clothes, pay bills, take care of people I love/d. It's definitely a scary thought but it comes with getting older, I guess. And you hope that you're old enough to choose your own paths, and take care of your own family, and do just as good, if not a better job, than your parents. Like I said, well written. I'm glad I checked it out.

[Sean Allen]

Some poetry needs to be read over and over to get the meaning when there may not even be a meaning and some only needs to be read once. This is one of those that only needs to be read once. not because it is simple or dumbed down, but because the writer has used the tools of his craft to create the image.

You start out with a sing-songy seven beat/six beat first couple of lines and the reader lets down his guard thinking he's in for an easy feel good read.

Then you move on to an explanation of the mistake... Thinking that your father is still here, who your father is to you and how it makes you feel.

Then you end the poem with another mistake... You assume that your father will not be there to set you on the proper path when you have to choose one.

Of course he will be there.

[JC]

Great piece.

I love the flow and especially the last line. We never really realize how much we depend on our parents until they are gone.

JC

[Tara]

I hate this for it's gut wrenching kick. With no wasted words, you captured it perfectly. Anyone who has lost anyone KNOWS this. I love how you open it, with a conversational casual tone. I love how you bring in the things you miss the most. And I admire the way it ends with the cold realization that we are on our own. But all in all, I hate it for making me cry when i was having a really good day. Thanks a lot, creepy.

[Belator Books]

I liked the line 'boisterous laughter'. This reminded me of my paternal grandfather, especially the coughing post merriment part. The 'jabbing wit' with softer edges is a description too often mal-used; you pulled it off here. You managed to paint a solid, if not brief, portrait without being wordy or soppy. Nicely done.

[Water_the_Sun]

This is a beautiful piece.

Simplistic in that its short, small worded, but still hits, close to home in a big way. "A steel-toed kick to the midsection," the reader can really feel what the speaker is feeling, especially if they have lost someoen close, im sure, you envoke a sense of empathy, but at the same time of reconciled grief, like, you dont make us want to weep forever, you let us know that the speaker has soldiered on in spite of the pain, because of the pain with "I have to find my own paths now", even though it hurts, the reader mvoes on, because his father would have wanted it that way.

This piece truly struck a chord with me, and it honestly is one of the best pieces ive read in a while. Kudos.

I love your discription of that recycled revelation, "

[Honeypot]

Sometimes it hits you hard that loved ones are gone. This is sad, but a wonderful poem for your dad. Honestly, I would have liked to know more about what you miss about him, but what you have is really good and very heartfelt. Thank you for sharing it.

[Adrian K. Smith]

With so relatively few words, you bring us in for a taste of the pain of loss and the acceptance of the progression of life as it continues on after that loss. For some, that pain sparks ever so evidently in some object, some place, some time; where all but out of the blue, it all comes crashing down upon us as that pit throbs within. With Mother's Day right around the corner and Father's Day next month, there are many that will find themselves caught up in that briefest memory of the past as if it were the present - only to realize - that it indeed is the past. Some of us will continue upon new paths leading from the old. Some of us will sit there beside old paths, mourning the yesterdays, and losing our tomorrows.

[Cordell]

I can relate to this poem hmmm r u looking into my life? Keep it up :)

[Seriana]

:( Such a sad, but heartfelt piece Jer. Perhaps it is in those moments that we begin to cope....I cannot imagine the heartache and do not look forward to the day I must speak in past tense. But, it is a beautiful thing those happy memories bring. Thank you for sharing....