Still On My Poetry Grizzlie

Aight.


Obama won, we're all in the afterglow, but, I STILL have a job to do: Writing my thoughts, opinions, feelings, and truths for mass consumption. Since I haven't posted anything since the election, I'm gonna post this poem I've been holding onto for about 2 months, to whet your appetites. Don't worry... I'm working on pissing people off on this site, again, so don't worry. '09 is my year, so DON'T SLEEP!! Middle of Da Map Magazine IS comin', and there's NOTHING my very WELL employed haters can do about it...

This piece came about after an episode with my own, internalized, feelings, as well as a few choice words with some not-worth-shit individuals who will remain nameless/clueless...


Mama's Baby, Daddy's Maybe... (a son's contempt of Father & Fatherhood)
By r. clark

It wasn't because he missed my first steps.
He was working...
It wasn't all the Halloween costumes, or birthday parties he missed, because, I understood for a long time.
He wasn't in town...
It wasn't even that I learned how to tie my shoes, ride my bike, drive a car, or kiss a girl without his help or encouragement.
He was busy...
No, I was the product of a relationship that ended long before conception,
The product of lust and longing.
What could be considered a relationship of convenience, to some,
Produced a, handsome, baby boy destined to have the subtle nuances of his donor...
His contempt of relationships and brown eyes...
His flirtatious smile and broad shoulders...
His ability to break hearts and maintain a lustful hold over his conquests...
His stocky build and pigeon-toed strut...
My silver tongue, forged from my father's deceiving fire...
It's because of his ways that I never connected in relationships
My wife can't understand why I'm so drawn to watchin' women wiggle their hips
She doesn't understand my penchant for spewing sweet venom from these lips,
All of this comes from the genes I've been equipped
Never allowing myself to become whipped
I'd rather be master than 'bate...
The way I've always known.
Now a father, I expect so much from children so young
Constantly contemplating my sudden disappearing act, leading them into a cycle all too familiar
I want to break it...
But, here I am, a reflection of my father's unsteadiness,
Young and restless in search of someone Bold and Beautiful to share the Days of my Life with...
See, this soap opera I call 'life' should've given me a pass.
Should've given me cause to become another statistic
Yet, it was my mother's will I grasped to. Her stubborn nature and strong will.
Her "Do-anything-I-want/NEED-to" get by attitude,
Her "Family First" philosophy, her "Give-my-all-in-love" creed,
Her open heart, her sharp mind, her "quick to listen, but slow to speak" motto... That routinely gets broken,
But, I digress...
Through him, I got HER, and she got me,
So...
I didn't need him to: teach me how to fight,
Or how to tackle,
Or how to shoot a jumper,
Or how to shave...
Because I had HER.
Because she was there to teach me how to:
Appreciate the love in my life,
Put my pen to pad and express my thoughts and feelings,
Love MORE THAN just me,
And most importantly...
To forgive.

© Robert Clark, 2008



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Peace,

Double Ii







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