Hello McAlhany, ....thatnk your for submitting your poem.
I know you have received feedback from those who wanted this highlighted in the War Veterens subsection.
To me this is not about war, or sacrafice or patriotic duty. It reads much, much deeper. I read this as anquish from father to son. No matter how one's child dies - it is absolute devestation. No therapist or priest or well meaning friends can ever know the gut wrenching, shock and grief mixed with denial, anger, depression, bargaining with God...and 9after 12-15 months) MAYBE acceptance - at least so the living can live in the chaos of world responsibilities.
That's my take on take on this. I lost my Mother, and my sister. It is surreal, with denial the skill that gets one through.
"The gardenias are in bloom
A scent that gently rides the breeze
Deep breaths steal the Fragrance
On my stroll through hero lane"
A perfect opening, focusing on the environment, smells, colors, ritiuals we are never comfortable with.
"Trickling down, cold misty rain is coloring the stones
The amber sky glows
Last rays of light crest the markers
Red shines from the backside
An ironic color shared with those in this garden
The idleness here is deafening
A chill now has crept into my coat
I must once again walk away"
Again, this is not about war and heroes of war - IT IS YOUR SON! You were his hero, his mentor, playing ball, teaching him to ride a teo wheeler.
"My own two step with death awaits me
If ever you are watching me
You certainly can know that you still live in my life
A wonderful man and a son to a proud father
Enjoy the heavens
You deserve it
Remember something for me son
You're my hero now....."
Again I am quoting too much of the piece.
Your son lives in your life. You raised him, trying to be the best father from the examples of your own father and mother.
This is a short piece. Your words show editing - each word is placed as a painter places color in his own creative NEED to find the creative, the emotion, the passion.
I love this poem. It IS free verse. You seperate the stanzas, you work hard to engage readers with the emotion, the imagery of seeing a headstone - God, growing up, no body prepared me for the whole ritual of death, arranging a burial site, a service. We are in a daze, and despite your son not being here physically - I KNOW our loved ones ARE here. Just because we can't see them, doesn't mean they don't exist. Just as naysayers about God, heaven etc..have absolutely NO rambling BS to prove God does not exist, and Heaven does not exist.
"Trickling down, cold misty rain is coloring the stones
The amber sky glows
Last rays of light crest the markers."
I quote these, because there is no self-pity, no anger, no mental collapse. This piece is for everyone who has lost a child, no matter, by suicide, by war, by cancer, by sons engaging in extreme sports.
i respect you so much for finding insight into a child who was a gift, and truthfully (since I am Catholic) I do not believe in death. Scientic studies have shown that those who have near death encounters 'die": but see their closest family, friends, and describe the euphoric, peaceful, loving olace that is not of this world. They are sometimes resesitated - and everyone of them curses the doctors for brings them "back". They experienced paradise, and doctors put tubes in, determined to save a life.
Love this poem. I read it not as a piece on death and dying - but a piece which illustrates the bond of you and your saon - a love which will continue forever. Many parents SHOULD read this as an example of pure emotion - opening up - saying I LOVE you my son, and a son saying "I LOVE you DAD - "YOU ARE MY HERO".
Very nice blank verse - it is your talent, develope it, experiment, read e.e. cummings, nikki giovanni, mark strand, and May Sarton.
I am proud of YOU!
Terrific effort, and kudos for going outside your comfort zone - revealing a personal wound, knowing it is free, and we support and encourage you on this site.
WAY TO GO, DUDE~!
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