Now You, My Son

We're in an age of boring life
where poets play with rhyme,
and women paint their faces bright
and dreamers drift through time;
where all the gods have been dethroned
and pack the butcher's chest,
awaiting feasts, where those atoned
are crowned our noble best.

We're in an age of planting blame,
and dancing 'round, in awe,
an ancient flame, the very same
those slaves of pharaoh saw;
that shines its promise to the night
with visions raised to tame
and coax the beast in man to fight
and blind him to his shame.

We're in an age of ignorance,
where glaring truths can fade
and constitute no hinderance
as specious points are made,
and pliant minds are swayed,
and real is bent and twisted back
to mask, in innocence,
the laughter of those with the knack
to charm through arrogance.

We're in an age of righteous hate,
where men choose groups to cling,
and brotherhood is there for all 
who know which songs to sing;
who pack in rallies, now banal,
and rage on with their king
through spit and sweat, all sycophants,
assured what prayers will bring.

We're in an age where strangled dreams
are left in heaps to rot;
and plastic hope, recycled, seems
to double what we've got;
where proof pervades the plot,
a song of angels stuck in time,
each echo more perverse
and still the melody sublime.

We're in an age, the only age 
that man has ever known.
We've felt it swing from rest to rage
and back, and heard the moan,
as wailing ancients shake their cage
and beg us take the throne.
We offer nothing for their pain
and all their blood has sewn.

Now you, my son, were born with eyes
and ears a lot like mine.
You'll see this world of nurtured lies
and hear the squealing swine
and know that all the knots man ties
are rooted in desire,
and take your fill of everything
and let them see you smile.

Author's Note

Please let me know what you think.

Reviews

[Patricia Wedel]

dearest Poet… we had a Constitution that guided our Days… now we need Protection from the Loose Cannons that destroyed our Morals. It is a Sad Day… but Hope remains and the Sun will Rise after the Reign of Terror. tenderly, Pat

[mattavelli]

Thanks for reading, Pat! :)

[tranquilspace]

Very good use of the repetition 'we're in an age', the way you portrayed some parts of history was really creative and the last few lines were very lovely and it was as if you were handing power over to your son and telling him what you've seen overtime. In conclusion it was a very different and lovely piece

[mattavelli]

Thanks for reading! :)

[Laz K.]

Great poem, expertly written, brilliant, and smart.

The thing is though, that if we were told that this poem had been written 50, 100, 200 years ago, we'd believe it. Every age is like this age, because we as creators of "this world" are flawed, greedy, etc.

Also, the poem suggests that there are those that "lie, spit hate, squeal," etc. They are the "evil ones." If, for example, Democrats were given this poem, they'd easily point to the Republicans as the evil ones, and vice versa.

So, the question is, what do we do about "this age"? "take your fill of everything
and let them see you smile." I can imagine that the "others" that create the evils in the world were given similar advice at the start.

Conflict is an inherent part of this world, and I'm afraid it will always be so.

[mattavelli]

Thanks for reading, Laz! :)
There will always be conflict. We can’t eat without taking something’s life. We can’t make one thing clean without making another thing dirty. We’re all opposing interests, or “evil”, as you phrased it.
When my son was born, I watched him scream. He knew nothing, but he had wants. As he grows, I see how his wants evolve, how his methods of acquiring them evolve. We are our wants. All of our effort goes into our wants. In that, we are all the same. We are want machines. I would have my son embrace that, and focus on his wants.

[Lydia Shutter]

What a world our children and grandchildren have come into. The hatred, the unwillingness to compromise, the placing blame. Very well written, Matt. Lydi***

[mattavelli]

Thanks for reading, Lydiasterisks! :)

[Poetic Beauty]

We are in times of hypocrisy and chaos. The best thing we can do is to teach our children to be free thinkers, have strong minds, and caring hearts.

Your poem made me think and that is always a great thing.

[mattavelli]

Thanks for reading, Poet! :)

[Beccy]

My son is fourteen now, and what I think, is that this is an intelligent and important poem, which is superbly penned from first line to last.

A year or so ago, I read an interesting article by Rob Wijnberg, who was the founding editor of
The Correspondent. It was titled ' The great paradox of our time,' well worth a read, particularly if like me, you believe the age of ignorance and hate started from the moment our species first stood, upright :))

Beccy.

[mattavelli]

Thanks for reading, Beccy! :)

[Richard🖌]

Well spake, Dear Matt 🤔

With such a deluge of reviews on this one, I suspect mine might be taken as just another to say, "Thanks for the read," on.
Still, you know me once I get started … LOL!
And, I must say, My Poetically Astute Friend, you about covered most every commonly defiled aspect of our (humankind's) present condition, and though your rhyme scheme rambles (some no rhymes), the steady 8/6 count (almost a Hymnal Octave: a-b-a-b-c-d-c-d, etc; iambic tetrameter & trimeter), well thought out word selections, and smooth syntactic flow, saves it for you overall. Noted: V3 is a line longer than the rest, with L1 & L9 using "ignorance" … just sayin'.
Your final verse is overloaded with "and" words and lacks a needed rhyme … for example (or, some-such):

"Now you, my son, were born with eyes
and ears a lot like mine.
You'll see this world of nurtured lies;
yes, hear the squealing swine
to know that all the knots man ties;
alas, only defile.
So, take your fill of everything,
and let them see you smile."

Your title sings and drew me in (reminiscent of Kipling's "IF"), and your boy's picture is preciously pure … too bad for him he favors you so … ha-hahhh! But, oh what a brilliant way to teach your son; I hope he takes it to heart when he's of age and mind to.
Wandering back in my mind to the first of your poems I read, and reading now, there's a marked improvement toward master that's so wonderfully inspiring for me to truly and sincerely enjoy … you've come a long way, My Fine Friend, Matt … thank you ever-so gratefully for sharing this fine work.

A bushel basket of kudos 'n jealous green accolades! ⁓ Richard 🍃

(I grade this "excellent" … a solid 90/100)

[mattavelli]

Thanks for reading, Richard! :p
Yes, my son is damned handsome, like his father. Haha
I wrote this one out pretty quick, and I really liked the flow of it. No two sections share a rhyming pattern, and as you noticed, section three has an extra line. I'll call it free verse. Haha
I like your edit of the last section. Its good to read from you again. I took a few year break from poetry. I'm trying to get the feel for it. This one is a few years old, hence the reviews. The Cafe seems quieter now.

[Richard🖌]

Yeah,
I noted you'd been MIA, but am quite chuffed you've returned … I was feeling lonely being one of the few on here who composes in meter and rhyme (poetry), anymore.
It appears the respite gave you a chance to study-up. : )

[julius_wyann]

This is excellent. I love the misdirection of sorts making the reader think you are talking about modern times when in reality, you are just talking about human nature. It's unfortunate Earthly things and people are the way they are. Where are all the righteous? There are next to none as far as I can see

[mattavelli]

Thanks for reading, julius! :)

[Dave Brown]

I see it is an older write re-posted and even now more relevant
I appreciate you have a son and are quite rightly concerned about what awaits him.
Who knows, technology changes things so dramatically, now onto the moon etc. where or how or if, it will all end
Scary
Very well written

[mattavelli]

Thanks for reading, Dave! :)

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Excellent poem, my friend. A lot of things you said really speak to me and are often thoughts I have of this world. You managed to say them so eloquently and forthright. And in the end carry such a hopeful message. It's what I strive to do in many of my writing. Because of my mother's eternal search for redemption growing up I was Christian, Catholic, Jehovah Witness, and did a few months in the LDS. Religion is ingrained within the Hispanic culture, and faith defines an enormous part of it. I'm Agnostic now, though flawed, as we all are, I try to live my best virtues. The giving of hope, truly does speak to the ideology of our better Angels. Thanks for sharing.

[mattavelli]

Thanks for reading, Carlos! :)
What the religious call "faith", I call "delusion", a disease of the imagination. We are very simple creatures. We have the instinctual drive to survive. That drive manifests as "want", or "desire" as I termed it in this poem. We are simple selfish creatures. That selfishness is disgusting and beautiful; it is not a flaw, it is our essence. We are the self-devouring earth, just a phase in the slow churning of the soil. Haha
I can get longwinded and preachy. I wrote this for my son. He's very stubborn. It is frustrating, yet beautiful. I want him to stay stubborn, and focus on what makes him happy. And, I wanted to share my perspective. Section three here has an extra line, doesn't fit the overall pattern -"and pliant minds are swayed"- thats my core message here; Dont be a tool. Haha
Thanks again for reading. If you have time, id love to read your thoughts on my poem Mind Twist.

[Melinda McQueen]

This is truly a beautiful write.
To think of the world for our offspring gives one pause.
You said it nicely.

[mattavelli]

Thank you, Melinda! :)