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on hearing the news of my father's death |
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Feb 19 09, 04:17
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Babylonian
Group: Bronze Member
Posts: 83
Joined: 25-March 06
From: Tampa FL (born in New Zealand)
Member No.: 153
Writer of: Poetry
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I watched your birth and heard your primal cry of helplessness. I knew a father's joy, his awkward pride. At four, you are a boy whose small steps overshadow every high I've championed in forty years. And yet, I miss the way your tiny fingers fumbled for shiny things, the way your features crumbled when tired, your tangled words. And if I let myself, I think of death, of who'll surround you when I'm gone, who'll pull you close and clasp your head, if one day you'll grow old alone. I wonder, as I watch you run around, who'll cherish life that moves beyond their grasp, who'll wait and think to claim you as his own.
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Feb 19 09, 06:44
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Centurion
Posts: 4,592
Joined: 31-October 03
From: New Jersey
Member No.: 39
Real Name: John
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Larry Carr
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Daniel, I immediately got caught up in the emotions that this poem renders. As a father there is so much to cling to and identify with. You have expressed all of the observations fathers and their children share.
There is so much truth and honesty in your lines, particularly the following ones:
At four, you are a boy whose small steps overshadow every high I've championed in forty years. And yet,
Watching the growth and development of a child is one of the wonders of life.
Your choice of the word "awkward" in his awkward pride. is dead on when speaking from a male perspective; for a woman, the pride would joyous and outwardly displayed.
As far as the technical aspects of your poem, I don't have any suggestions. I enjoyed the read and it spiked my emotions very early this morning.
Thanks for sharing.
JLY
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Give thanks for your new friends of today, but never forget the warm hugs of your yesterdays.
Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Feb 19 09, 12:16
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Group: Platinum Member
Posts: 743
Joined: 3-February 09
From: Abingdon, Oxfordshire,UK
Member No.: 754
Real Name: Leonora Wyatt
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:No one at all
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Daniel - Hearing of your father's death must have been hard to bare. It forces a man to accept that the mantle of true fatherhood has settled more heavily upon his shoulders. How natural that your thoughts should go out to your own son - now that you have become the senior father figure in your family. The 'old man' had always been there, for a word of advice, a pat on the back for a job well done, or the silent, mutual contemplation of the strange ways of women. Now, your boy looks to you for these same small comforts. Your tender poem contains all our fears for our children's futures - and regret for a lost past. These are your own personal thoughts, and should really remain unchanged. But if you would like a small question ... The last part confused me slightly. I am not certain if you are wondering who might look after your son - should you die. I can't quite feel what you are thinking there. I am being vague - but I am left with an unresolved doubt about your intention.
'I wonder, as I watch you run around, who'll cherish life that moves beyond their grasp, who'll wait and think to claim you as his own.'
I am so sorry for your loss, Leo
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Guest_ohsteve_*
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Feb 19 09, 13:03
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Guest
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Daniel, I read with you in your poem, all the poignantcy that life has to offer, all the drama, wonder, and caring that any father can have during any stage of his life. Although I have no sons, I have a grandson and another soon to be born. I wonder if thier lives will touch on any of the same aspects of my own. This is excellently done. I can see no nits through my first read. Steve
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Feb 20 09, 20:52
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,926
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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Hi Daniel,
I've read your poem several times, and also your call for suggestions that would make the reader think more in transcendental terms, of whether there's a Being who'll claim these children when they grow old "and move beyond our grasp" (we'll be dead, and they'll die, and so forth).
I believe the last two lines should hold the key to these profound doubts. Is there a loving Being or nothing at all? For one, in L13 the word 'their' is confusing. You've used 'you' all along, and the switch is misleading.
"Who'll cherish life that moves beyond our grasp"
sounds to me a tad better if you want to question afterlife.
L14 is also a bit weak in that respect. It's not weak if you're talking mundane issues, in fact it's lovely, but it doesn't transcend. Personally, to me it seems to relate to worries about the child growing old and ending up in a nursing-home or abandoned in some way or another (which I guess we all fear...).
Something like:
Who'll cherish life that moves beyond our grasp, who's love endures beyond our graven stone?
Well, you know the routine, TorT. I just feel that your last lines don't reveal the philosophical questions you want the reader to ask themselves.
Cheers, Syl***
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Mar 5 09, 17:30
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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Hi Daniel
Oh such a poignant piece! I think we all wonder how our children will cope alone when we have gone and I can feel every thought & emotion you have written here.
I'm no punctuation expert, but wonder if a semi-colon might be better in the last line hereI miss the way your tiny fingers fumbled for shiny things, the way your features crumbled when tired ; your tangled words. I think I agree with Syl about the last line of all and perhaps you could rewrite a stronger line to have more impact at the end.who'll cherish life that moves beyond their grasp, who'll wait and think to claim you as his own. Hope to see you again soon Snow
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Mar 13 09, 04:21
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Creative Chieftain
Group: Centurion
Posts: 2,587
Joined: 9-August 03
From: Australia
Member No.: 17
Real Name: John
Writer of: Poetry
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Hi, Daniel,
I watched your birth and heard your primal cry of helplessness. I knew a father's joy, his awkward pride. At four, you are a boy whose small steps overshadow every high I've championed in forty years. And yet, I miss the way your tiny fingers fumbled for shiny things, the way your features crumbled when tired, your tangled words. And if I let myself, I think of death, of who'll surround you when I'm gone, who'll pull you close and clasp your head, if one day you'll grow old alone. I wonder, as I watch you run around, who'll cherish life that moves beyond their grasp, who'll wait and think to claim you as his own.
Your poem abounds with sentimentality and melancholy.
I see the theme of what a lot of parents wonder, these days.
When I'm gone: what's sort of life will my child/children be experiencing: the unknown.
Enjoyed the read.
John
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Mar 15 09, 23:55
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 3,822
Joined: 3-August 03
From: Florida
Member No.: 10
Real Name: Elizabeth
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori Kanter
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Hey Daniel, How are the kids? How are you? I am so glad to see you posting and I apologize for my absence. I've been completely under the weather. I remember this and remember how I fell in love with it. I also remembering being extremely jealous of your ability to grab your reader by the heart and draw them into the poem with such passion and unusual crafting skills. The subject is full of depth and profound thoughts. I love how you blend the son/father you were/had and are to be and how your reflections of losing your own father, leave you aching for your own - The only thing that felt weak to my ear was the repetition of 'who'll' I think a repeat of 'who'll' works to intensify the emptiness of 'no one' being there - but I felt 4 right on top of the other doesn't bring that to full fruitation. The opening lines (especially 'helplessness" immediately emphasizes the fragile state of a newborn and the fears of a parent to know so much lies ahead for them to make them stronger and hopefully more wiser) Which I felt was intensified by the continuation of the line "I knew a father's joy" ... These few words paint such a striking and vital picture, both visually and emotionally. As well as the perfection in 'his awkward pride." these 3 words describe in fullness the depth of that awe struck embarrassment of feeling both over joyed and meak at the sight of such magnificience. Excellent word choices! QUOTE who'll cherish life that moves beyond their grasp, who'll wait and think to claim you as his own. The only 'who'll' I would suggest substituting might be in the final line, perhaps who'll cherish life that moves beyond their grasp, then wait such time to claim you as his own (such time or the time, or a time) Of course it is a simple and miscellaneous offering. I hope something I left is helpful, otherwise this poem is all powerful. Big Hugs and Much Love to you!!! Liz
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