father, a salesman

Father, a salesman

(the inspiration of this poem came from the first line from"Karl C Klein’s Unnatural Girl"whose stories published at www.karlcklein.gather.com and www.writerscafe.org/writers/karlklein/ should be read by serious readers) :

My father was a salesman.

That was all and that was all.

Memory did not recall

The commodities he sold.

The houses of his visits,

The shops or the offices.

 

A little pack of blue and

Obsolete face-crème once found

In an ancient attic…

“Had it been in his torn bag?”

Fingers wanted to trace his

Print of past long dead and gray.

 

The summer roads and shut doors

The watching bird with lazy

Wings folded together,

Oh sun, was it a journey

He had taken many times?

 

Only at night beside a

Wild and black mare he appeared.

“What were you?” asked a boy, me!

“Go and inquire your deep dream”,    

 Told the dying out image.

 

I know he was a salesman!

 

Reviews

[JC Fox]

This was wonderful, I love how another person's work can inspire your own work! There was another author on here that I highly enjoyed but I don't think he is here anymore and I can't find the work thanks to the big crash. Thanks for sharing this wonderful poem.

[George Love]

Excellent work. It could use some minor tweaks, but I think this is very good.

[CarrieLynn {Chameleon A..]

great write! :)

[Maya]

very nice. descriptive but the reader still has to think. "told the dying out image" is a beautiful idea but the line itself seems not good enough.
i like it!

[The Archangel Gabriel]

For some reason, this reminded me of Arthur Miller's "Death of a Salesman."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_of_a_Salesman

Perhaps, it is because of the inclusion of a salesman. Perhaps, it is the conditions of his existence. Perhaps, I am just making a lame attempt to impress people with my level of education by referencing somebody else. :) Don't you believe it!

"My father was a salesman.
That was all and that was all.
Memory did not recall
The commodities he sold"

I think that was the section that gave rise to the allusion, something to the effect of: "He was a salesman, but he was a nobody." Nonsense! Everybody is a somebody.

Great write!

-Gabe

[R J Askew]

'Salesman' has a slightly grim feel to it as a word. Are salesmen good or bad? We need them right? But don't they also make us buy things we might not wish to? Am I a salesman? My father wasn't but he got nowhere. Salesman are active, positve men (or women) right? They are ambitious and keen, and win. And are sad if they don't. Is a broken down salesman better than a broken down poet? I wish I was a salesman. Salesmen just do things and don't think themselves into knots. Poem makes me think. Ach, I'm in knots again.

[Beautifully Tragic xPoe..]

Interesting subject, delightful read. Nicely done.

[The Musings of Mary H.]

Altogether a wonderful poem! To the very end and beyond, his dad will always be a salesman. He doesn't require his son to be as such but only to live his dreams. Delightful!

Mary

[lori c]

i feel for this child, not really knowing dad, just what he did. and yet feeling a connection just by fingering dad's forgotten wares. love the childlike tenderness and yearning. makes me wonder just what dad did do on his trips. and if the ,,,shut doors,,, will ever open. and does the boy really want to know what is secreted behind those doors. well done, my friend.

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

What sentimental and haunting words from a son about his father. I agree that not knowing is very telling. Intriquing words at the end of it all. Great work. Thank you.
Light,
Siddartha

[Kasey Klein]

"What was(were) you?" asked a boy, me!
Told the dieing(dying) out image.

Maybe fading image? or dying image. 'out' seems out of place

I love what you've done with this. If I didn't know better, I'd say your read the book (it's not out yet)

I think you wrap a life up well with: I know he was a salesman!

Great line: The summer roads and shut doors

You images go out, far from home, musing as to what this man might have done. (We can wonder why a son would not know that answer; the answer's a dark one)

You take a wonderful snap shot.