Litkicks Message Board Archive

Take 3

Posted to Action Poetry




I moved some lines, added another. See what you guys think.--violet9ish

For My Parents

They have too many years to get this far
And I feel like I'm weighting them
Feel like I'm breaking them
Tearing them
And carrying them too far
They won't let go
Won't let me drop them
*the long and winding road that leads...*
Won't let me take a separate road
And there's the diseases and the deadend job
And the damn factory with its anti-unionism and
His aching leg with the plate
And his artistry and his mind not given enough
Room to play
His attic filled with books, his bedside table spilling them
*Hey Jack Kerouac, I think of your mother...*
His mind breathing them
And Her elegant taste
And fabulous dreams
reading me countless stories so that I might dream
Her fabulous designs reduced from high fashion
To Halloween costumes
*we're so pretty, oh so pretty, pretty vacant...*
Floating fairies, sparkling bats, grinning clowns, small soldiers
And beautiful encouragements
Trapped by the money
*the best things in life are free, but you can save them...*
And the cancer
And then kids who couldn't leave school
And were afraid to leave
And no job to go to
And no where
And no where
The small town with its thousands of isms
suffocating all of us
as you try not to talk too loud
work too hard not to laugh out loud
*if I could turn back time...*
and I never could do enough to make it up
and I'm sorry
and I'm sorry
*brokenhearted jubilee...*
To you for every day you substitute taught in that sick building syndrome school
And to you for every day you came home tired
And I wouldn't be quiet
when you had to go in at midnight
because I didn't know what it's like
To fix machinery in 110 Fahrenheit
*what else should I be....all apologies...*
And I'm sorry.
--violet9ish