The Songbird

The Songbird
Location
Ohio, USA
Birthday
August 22
Bio
I attune to the power of words, how they are used, spoken, and written.  Some things I refuse to write about, because therein is a painful memory, or a sweet so much that a tear falls yet again. The very process of writing to me is to possess.  To embrace.  To touch. And the fact of it - the writing itself - makes it all the more indelible, so concentrated upon, and the piece of spirit that emerges was the point of doing the piece in the first place, but you did not know that when you began.

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Salon.com
JUNE 18, 2012 9:00AM

Finesse

Rate: 4 Flag

 

Daddy

 

FINESSE

i like the times i can recognize
the inner strength that i own.
it’s funny that it only dawns on me
when others tell me what i have shown.

yes, much has fallen to my shoulders.
poor brother Bobby, taken under my wing.
when Pops and Timmy could not handle it,
because Mom died, and left me, alone, to sing.

but shoulder it i did, what else was there?
the insane were mainstreamed, left bereft.
the choice was to leave him, wandering,
or to take him to me, for what life was left.

and Daddy too, when he started failing.
the loss of his leg, then an arm, like a slaughter.
but i gathered him up too, to take him with me
to the places where i collect my water.

i do not trust the coffers and the cauldrons
of those who rule over our plains.
God only knows what you’re drinking,
and my health is the proof of my aim.

before the wheelchair, he loved going with me.
to Wahkeena Preserve, and on to Ash Cave.
in Southern Ohio, the natural Springs are abounding,
so it's a lifeblood to me to collect, and to save.

he kept all his litttle cartons that were lidded,
it was his way of doing what he could.
and of course he looked forward to our meetings,
catching Salamanders, then releasing them back to the woods.

we laughed of the days of catching frogs as children,
and watering the lawn to go out at night for bait.
with flashlights, we grabbed the big Crawlers,
and we knew the Fish just could not wait.

oh, my Daddy-O.  I still love him so.
that big man, that big lap, that big knee.
he was a circus ride, and he gave me my pride,
and he still resides in the best of me.

so, of course i mention him; always.
i think on him each and every day.
but today, on this Homage time, it’s special,
to allow others to know i have something to say.

my sweet little Daddy, i love you so.
and it’s by you that I carry on.
the siblings, the rivals, have all come ‘round to embrace me,
because you taught me the ways of Right, and not wrong.

there is nothing finer than this Lovelight,
there is nothing finer than this Grace.
and i thank my lucky Stars each morning,
for your guidance, that gave little Me, this place.

~

Daddy's Fish

~ My Hero ~

Every Day Is Father's Day

PeggyDaddy-Camp

~

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Comments

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The detail in this poem is magnificent. Amen to this. R
Yeeeeeeah...!! Ain't he a doll? Love dat man, ever and always. Tx, 'Chelle.
It's great that you recognize your own strength! Too often we put ourselves down.
informative and tenderly told. Love the pictures!
Hi, Patrick! -- Yes, you and I both know this. And - don't think I don't, still. But - I've learned much, inherited from both Mom and Pops. Truly a gift, and nice to know it's there when I do need to summon it. Thanks, matey!
Hidey, Blinddream -- yes, tenderness is certainly in order when it comes to Big Daddy. Fine, fine man. Thanks!
Beautiful tribute Peggy. You are their strength especially his. This is wonderful to read today. tg
Aww .. Tx, Teeg. Oh, how I miss mah Pops. It's so great to share him with you all; God knows he just loved everybody. We're gonna have us a Field Day when I get up there, too! Mom'll be singin' just like on the radio, and Pops'll be on bass, as always. Heart.
"the insane were mainstreamed, left bereft."

so true. i see them every day. without loved ones. wandering. lost. i admit i often look away...there is only so much i can bear...

also, what nice arms you have. just saying...

ah, another truth, a miserable one:
"i do not trust the coffers and the cauldrons
of those who rule over our plains."


they are a bunch of damn crooks and scoundrels and
misdemeanors waiting to happen.
Heydey, James. You know it. I know it. The most heinous thing in my entire life is the 'mainstreaming' of the insane. And Ronald RayGun is to blame. We now have this hideous Homeless problem here in America -- and -- this cat is a Hero?? Give me a break. Aww..! -- poor thaaang! - he got Alzheimers?! Ask me? -- How convenient! "Give me your tired, your poor; your huddled masses, yearning to be free.." Make me stop. Love ya, Kidd.
You will P but don't be gettin' in a hurry to go...OK? :D
No. Teegie. No. No hurry. There was a time yes. I had a time of - crackdown. You are a One that sees that I "broke on through to the Other Side," like Morrison said. But it was not drugs or trips, or high that took me there. I am actually proud of my Survival, and I daresay it was tending to my insane Brother Beloved that gave that information into me. Yes. It is - possible - to come back. People don't like me much, once they meet me, esp. men. But I have lost all pretense, and to be true? I was pretty damn good at that. Now? Why bother? Stilted is jilted, and True is amused.

Uuuh... on another note. Your avatar is kinda screamin. Are you - okay? I want you to remain too, ya know.

xox