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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California

0 posted 2001-06-21 07:11 AM


FISSURES


I hear the voice of my dead father
Saying, "No!" in his stern tone.
I see my own dejected son
Walking to his room, alone.
And I strive with all ambition
To somehow bridge the unforseen;
To mend wounds generations deep,
But how am I to intervene
With what seems destined.

Shall I read the boy a story
At the behest of a friend?
...Where the words just run to pictures
And the pictures never end.
...Where a blind mouse falls through a hole
And pursuing cats share his fate,
Through the endless fissures of a dream
That holds me behind the gate
Of understanding.

How am I to save the world
When I cannot save my soul?
...When the days are slipping, slipping
Far and fast beyond control.
God, I swear Time is a demon
And that caring is his curse;
How he sucks on my emotions
And then bleeds through me in verse
Yet misdirected.

If I cannot close these chasms,
God at least let me awaken
From the perils of afterthought
In a dream ever forsaken!
...From the laughter of the wicked,
And the calling in due course.
...From this jaded and insipid
Battle ‘twixt love and remorse.
For I see the tears flowing
In a moment never spent;
But the question in me growing --
Why is it the innocent
Are brought to suffer...


Michael R. Anderson




But dreams of those who dream as I,
Aspiringly, are damned and die.


EAP

[This message has been edited by Michael (edited 06-21-2001).]

© Copyright 2001 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved
RSWells
Member Elite
since 2001-06-17
Posts 2533

1 posted 2001-06-21 07:21 AM


I see loss of innocence is on our minds this morning. A subject that even at my age I find I'm often mourning. Good poem.
Cpat Hair
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Patricius
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793

2 posted 2001-06-21 07:45 AM


Excellent write...and a well delivered message. I enjoyed

Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

3 posted 2001-06-21 08:06 AM


I hear the voice of my dead father
Saying, "No!" in his stern tone.
I see my own dejected son
Walking to his room, alone.
And I strive with all ambition
To somehow bridge the unforseen;
To mend wounds generations deep,
But how am I to intervene
With what seems destined.


=======================
How am I to save the world
When I cannot save my soul?

...When the days are slipping, slipping
Far and fast beyond control.
God, I swear Time is a demon
And that caring is his curse;
How he sucks on my emotions
And then bleeds through me in verse
Yet misdirected.
====================================

M...I ask my self these same questions...and often wonder how to change the things that seem to be handed down thru the generations of families...
how does one break the cycle when some things have been instilled and legacies leave scars....as you so poetically and eloquently said in your closing lines...
it always seems that it is the children who pay the price for the adults mistakes ... thus continuing the cycle.
Those wise men we always quote...they say in the end its about healing, patience, and forgiveness..tho I know those can emotionally be the hardest to come by.
Thought provoking purge here M, full of mirrors...as always your words effect me in places deep.

[This message has been edited by Janet Marie (edited 06-21-2001).]

Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California
4 posted 2001-06-21 09:06 AM


RSWells,  Indeed, the loss of innocence is on my mind of late.  My girl just graduated from middle school and my son, though only 11, has the mentality of a young adult.  It's kinda scarey for me right now.  Glad you liked the poem.

Cpat Hair, glad you enjoyed, as well - I was worried this might be too obscure to understand.  In reality - this was a dream I had which was really eerie.  It started with my father and my son, then shifted to me reading to my son - then to the cats chsing the mouse and falling through what could only be described as infinity while I watched helplessly as the whole world seemed to follow, in effect turning itself inside out.  I know - probably more than you wanted to know...LOL

Janet, I don't know that the cycles you are seeing here are exactly what you are percieving them as, but indeed sometimes legacies can leave scars.  I just want to clarify that my father was the kindest man in the world and the only strength my brothers, sisters and I could rely on as children in a very abusive household - my mother being the abuser.  What my father was saying "No!" to in my dream and in this poem was the fact that Mikey, my son, is growing into the same young man I did - as did my father before me.  A loner of sorts, an adult child if you will.  Wounded and carrying burdens he should be far too young to understand, but does anyway.  My father, on his death bed,  made me promise him I would not make the same mistakes he did - that I would open myself up to the world and allow myself to experience love, not just dwell on the negatives.  It's taken most of my adult life to come to terms with this - and though I feel somewhat freed, it pains me deeply to see my son entering the same darkened state I spent most of my life in.  Though Mikey and I are true pals and best friends - I don't get to see him nearly as much as I feel necessary, that is the other part of my worry.  Anyway, didn't mean to drop all of this on you, but I felt it very important that the message of this poem not be misunderstood.


Michael

Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

5 posted 2001-06-21 10:59 AM


quote:
my son, is growing into the same young man I did - as did my father before me.  A loner of sorts, an adult child if you will.  Wounded and carrying burdens he should be far too young to understand, but does anyway.  My father, on his death bed,  made me promise him I would not make the same mistakes he did - that I would open myself up to the world and allow myself to experience love, not just dwell on the negatives.  It's taken most of my adult life to come to terms with this - and though I feel somewhat freed, it pains me deeply to see my son entering the same darkened state I spent most of my life in.
  
thank you for sharing this M, and  for clarifying...
perhaps I didnt word my reply well...
but what you speak of above is indeed the cycles and legacies that I was speaking of...
the things handed down "innocently" due to scars and the things we carry with us...
anyway..we all read our own lifes experiences into the poetry that we relate to...
your message came thru...and made me think about the things I need to change in my own life for my children...
thank you for that my wise and held dear friend.  
take care
jm

Tiersdin
Member Elite
since 2000-11-17
Posts 2364
east coast
6 posted 2001-06-21 12:54 PM


I'd originally wanted to read this poem because you are such an excellent writer, Michael. I'm so glad that I did because these are some of the same worries that plague me concerning my children. Thank you for sharing your thoughts so openly. It helps to know that there are others who feel the as I do.

Sincerely,

~Tier

Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California
7 posted 2001-06-22 04:25 AM


Anytime, Janet. and that's what's beautiful about poetry in general isn't it? - How everyone can relate it to there own lives individually.  Circumstance may never quite be the same - but emotion is universal...

Tiersdin, yeah, I reached kinda deep with this one.  I'm glad there's others out there who understand.

Michael



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