Green Gold

Inspired by Kimberly Melody Guiterrez

it was the year of the pop song
according to the boys named
after rapid eye movement,

or thereabouts, dates aren’t
that important anyway,

the imprint of the twenty-third
letter in the arid field was probably
there years before and still is there
all these years later,

twenty-three in fact,

give or take,

again dates aren’t that important,

either way, the man that this man
doesn’t always see eye to eye with
left a positive imprint upon him,

he is the model of excellent
fatherhood after all,

he was, and still is,
a duck in that lived
in the numbers of the
form twice a value
added to one where
the value is any value,

he has a cowboy hat
with a rattlesnake skin
just above the rim,

he killed it and scalped it
there sometime before or
after the first shrub
was elected to the
highest office,

but on this day, on our
way out to the imprint
of the twenty-third letter,
we are on the search for
a piece of green gold,
something this man had never
seen before as a child just like
the piece of green gold
that is caressing his ears now,

they were both obscure then
but as a youngster he was
standing in the proper
location above the
green gold, just
the fourth track
on the green
recording
that went
gold,

father and I don’t always
see eye to eye these days,
but in those days, he was
the hero and they went on
weird adventures and this
weird adventure was finding
the cactus that father wanted
to store under green plastic,

oddly enough, the pop bottle
that we kept the cactus had a moniker
of a massive mountain who‘s shadow we lived,
one that housed and still houses the first-alert satellite
facility, the one that warned the missileers
in this part of the world that the end of
humankind was at hand,

and the other funny thing,
it wasn’t the exact cactus
that dad had found but a
lucky accident that I came
across in those formative days,

we found that sometime later,

dad marked it with an orange pole,
an orange flag calling out a warning
in the style a band of male demons
would appreciate,

to this day, it was locked away
in a mental file of the positives
that we never bring up because
the negatives always leave the
longer lasting scars,

but, in those days, the father,
as odd a duck as he was, was
the model of positive experience
and hero worship,

and a model of mental acuity
that must have been passed on
to his oldest progeny,

the highway that runs between the army
base and the overbearing mountain
is numbered as a multiple of twenty-three,
and the other factor is the sum of two and three,

he truly gave and I truly took,

in the year of the pop song,
he was the age that this poet is now
and now they are closer than ever,
because who else is going to give
him fatherly advice when the mouse
reaches certain milestones in her life,

this poet is green, wet behind the
ears on the parenting front, and the
father gave him a golden existence,

and maybe the ditch, the strange shape
in the field next to the housing complex,
actually stands for the word wonderful,

whatever the truth may be,
the connections came together
all over again

Author's Note

Context:

I lived on an army base on the Front Range at the conclusion of the Reagan administration and into the Bush I administration. Dad was a captain doing what he loved at the time. He was and still is an excellent father. This poem was inspired by childhood memories of location, his love and the music of the day. After reading a piece by the one in the dedication, the memories of that year flooded back. This is one of my typical free-verse pieces in my typical voice. Hope you enjoy it.

Reviews

[...]

... i spent my childhood in a military base too... my father was in the indian air force... i love how you've brought out the texture of that life... with its multiple hues... one knows one is there for a purpose that one can't comprehend... and yet... childhood unravels... with all the adventures... complexities... joys... this was quite a journey that triggered a million memories... life right now is very, very different... but i do know that my childhood lives within me... immortal as ever... like you said...

whatever the truth may be,
the connections came together
all over again

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thanks, Serah. I am glad to have you review this. I have missed your valuable input.

[...]

... i'm glad i've reconnected with your universe of verse... i haven't spent my time wisely since quite some time... will do so now... thank you for writing this piece... i can suddenly hear migs from my childhood... and am reminded of tea gardens covered with fireflies in the evenings... and the crazy elephant who once decided to make the runway his ramp... and... and... and... and... :)

[Kenneth The Poet]

The night I wrote this brought back a flood of memories for me about my childhood there. Everything coalesced again so well and I think that's a sign that I should write a piece. Thank you.

[...]

... my mind is buzzing with memories since i read this piece... i might end up writing something too...

[Kenneth The Poet]

Go for it.

[...]

:)

[emmajoy]

'and maybe the ditch, the strange shape ~ in the field next to the housing complex, ~ actually stands for the word wonderful,

whatever the truth may be, ~ the connections came together ~ all over again'

Is it true that we grow into our childhood as we age?

Enjoyed it very much, thank you! This is a new wander for me, catching memories i've not shared before, glimpsing your youth, your father, a life in history, lessons learned, music and all. Your free verse near but gently catapults this reader into another place. By its end i see the boy in the man.. i think!

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thank you so much, Emma Joy, for that review. I appreciate it.

[emmajoy]

You're more than welcome.

[Lily Mae]

Thank you for sharing this part of you with all of us.. the places, the situations and the music makes it all come alive for your readers.. xo excellent ink..xo :)

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thanks a lot, Lily.

[Eloha]

I remember REM! , I really like this stanza:

this poet is green, wet behind the
ears on the parenting front, and the
father gave him a golden existence

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thanks so much, Eloha.

[Kenneth The Poet]

Inspiring poem Kenneth,

I see much of you, and the older you in it, as a life's circle.

Keep on writing, I enjoy reading your work as always.

E.L.

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thanks a bunch. Greatly appreciated.

[Sami Khalil]

Awesome work dear poet ... Keep up the good works...

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thanks Sami, thanks so much.

[Sami Khalil]

You are quite welcome...

[zainul]

I enjoy it.
I have not much words to express my love for it,it is so much self-expanatory.
Reviews are also very illuminating .
Embedding a popular song.Hope you will like it.

[zainul]

Embedding was not successful.So link has been given below.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=rId95N2teUc

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thanks, zainul!

[zainul]

You are welcome.

[Kaylor Mason]

This is nice . . . I would never write about my childhood; at least not the reality of it. Some memories are too painful to recall

[Kenneth The Poet]

So very true, Kailer. I hear you, sir. Thank you for the review.

[Muse]

this poet is green, wet behind the
ears on the parenting front, and the
father gave him a golden existence,

I love that part, and that's what makes poetry so freaking awesome. Not only do you get to share what "moves" you as a writer. But the reader gets to embark on your journey. Wonderful story! Thank you for sharing....

Muse

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thanks so much, Muse. I think this may be the best work I've written thus far.

[Muse]

and thank you...for not deleting my review. :)))

[Kenneth The Poet]

Wouldn't even consider it.

[Muse]

...if I wrote a poem about my childhood...it would not be so pretty. You are lucky to have a Father that you grew up admiring.

[Kimberly "Melody" Carne..]

very very well done!

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thank you. I saw your poem about how you compared yourself from 1989 to now and I was deeply inspired. I was living in Colorado then and I remembered how happy that time in my childhood was. Thank you again for that.