For my late father, I wish I had the courage to read it at his funeral. Sometimes writing is the only way to come to terms with these emotions.
Sitting beside me is a full chair,
It looks empty,
But it's full.
Full of dreams, memories, someone I used to know.
My father sits in that chair.
He's sitting there right now, you just can't see him.
A breeze blows through the open window,
The chair rocks back and forth on its wheels.
One lone cloud passes me by and waves,
I wave back.
So does my dad.
The sky is blue and clear, I am reminded of his eyes before he put his contacts in.
He doesn't use them anymore,
So his eyes are always as an azure sky,
Or an un-muddied lake in sweet summer.
The cloud is gone,
We sit in the sunbeams.
He doesn't need to sit though,
He can get up out of that chair now.
I hate that chair.
I want it to go away and not hurt me anymore.
But then…How will I know where he's sitting?
Hi Conrad I like the sentiment in this poem - the contentment of togetherness even though you KNOW the chair is empty - it is the symbol of your father's presence.
Your words show part of you is accepting the facts as they are - the other bits are holding on to the visual signs, and giving you peace and comfort.
"The cloud is gone,
We sit in the sunbeams.
He doesn't need to sit though,
He can get up out of that chair now."
and then there is
"I hate that chair.
I want it to go away and not hurt me anymore.
But then�How will I know where he's sitting?"
These lines are strongly emotional, he was there, alive but tied to the chair,
now he has gone and it YOU who is now tied to the chair.
You want to be free of the hurt but want to keep the chair because
in some way, the chair has become your father.
The last three lines here seem to indicate your transference of your dad,
from the chair to the cloud, allowing you a sense of peace at last.
The cloud comes back.
I wave,
He waves back.
A good write on a sad topic. I hope your dad often floats by on his fluffy cloud to say say HI and wave.
Strong sentiment, good imagery, well written
This is a lovely poem, and a very moving elegy to your father. I find just talking to people as though they are still there helps me a lot, but sometimes I have to go and watch some black and white film like 'Wuthering Heights' to feel any better - people do live on, somehow, and I think that keeps us all going. {{{}}}
It's lonely in my mind...may I step into yours for a second?
I write comedy, scripts, and poetry. I dream of being a successful stand up comedian, and will eventually have something of that nature po.. more..