Soul as Flesh

dear dad........

Soul as Flesh

He favored the nothing in himself.
As though a piece of t**d formed his brain
A sly wickedness lived between his false teeth
The tongue, made of stone, cracked as though words meant something
Father, flesh and blood, cold blue rain of soul
gathering round the weather of his being
and I, like the fool, so distanced from the grail of reason and grace
watched as his soul fell into pieces of flesh.

Reviews

[Alfred Kukitz]

Thanks KL,

That last visit, his feebleness arcing into his soul, I looked at him in confused empathy.

Regards,
Al

[Lyn Anderson]

As it often happens, the donor of one half of a beautiful person's DNA is not necessarily a parent -- my dad had such a donor, yet his uncle is one of the most wonderful men we've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Very sad, yes, but it also proves there is a lot that goes into making a man, and it isn't just chains of AGCT

[Alfred Kukitz]

Thanks Ana!

I felt this all the way to the bottom of nothingness.

Regards,
Al

[Alfred Kukitz]

Thanks Doodley,

I wonder how it all happened? His brothers, Uncle Shrimp and Uncle Coke seemed like nice guys.

Regards,
Al

[Alfred Kukitz]

Thanks Jacob!

I guess my PTSD kept me from killing him. I wanted college with the GI bill. He said go to work and live here for $80 a month.

Regards,
Al

[Alfred Kukitz]

Thanks Bacchus!

On returning from Vietnam I had bought him a movie camera as a surprise. Was I ever surprised.

Regards,
Al

[Alfred Kukitz]

Thanks E!

When my father cycles around I often see him going to the bank with my money orders I sent home from Vietnam and cashing them for his own use.

Regards,
Al

[Papaya]

Very deep and emotional Al.
Good write.

[.]

A very profound write, Alfred!

Both at once deep and emotional, your imagery is very well executed. I see this as one who has lived an emotionally cold life and at a critical junction, perhaps too late, develops a softness and feeling for those around him.

A very intimate and thoughtful poem. Deep and open to interpretation.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i see this and feel this...dads can be thought of as gods...and when they start to age, fall apart, lose their sense of memory etc.

we see them fall into pieces of just being human...like us...

and sometimes we wondered where is the person i looked up to?

this is a very tough read in the sense of its sadness.

j.