it was the year of the pop song according to the boys named after rapid eye movement,
or thereabouts, dates aren’t that important anyway,
the imprint of the twenty-third letter in the arid field was probably there years before and still is there all these years later,
twenty-three in fact,
give or take,
again dates aren’t that important,
either way, the man that this man doesn’t always see eye to eye with left a positive imprint upon him,
he is the model of excellent fatherhood after all,
he was, and still is, a duck in that lived in the numbers of the form twice a value added to one where the value is any value,
he has a cowboy hat with a rattlesnake skin just above the rim,
he killed it and scalped it there sometime before or after the first shrub was elected to the highest office,
but on this day, on our way out to the imprint of the twenty-third letter, we are on the search for a piece of green gold, something this man had never seen before as a child just like the piece of green gold that is caressing his ears now,
they were both obscure then but as a youngster he was standing in the proper location above the green gold, just the fourth track on the green recording that went gold,
father and I don’t always see eye to eye these days, but in those days, he was the hero and they went on weird adventures and this weird adventure was finding the cactus that father wanted to store under green plastic,
oddly enough, the pop bottle that we kept the cactus had a moniker of a massive mountain who‘s shadow we lived, one that housed and still houses the first-alert satellite facility, the one that warned the missileers in this part of the world that the end of humankind was at hand,
and the other funny thing, it wasn’t the exact cactus that dad had found but a lucky accident that I came across in those formative days,
we found that sometime later,
dad marked it with an orange pole, an orange flag calling out a warning in the style a band of male demons would appreciate,
to this day, it was locked away in a mental file of the positives that we never bring up because the negatives always leave the longer lasting scars,
but, in those days, the father, as odd a duck as he was, was the model of positive experience and hero worship,
and a model of mental acuity that must have been passed on to his oldest progeny,
the highway that runs between the army base and the overbearing mountain is numbered as a multiple of twenty-three, and the other factor is the sum of two and three,
he truly gave and I truly took,
in the year of the pop song, he was the age that this poet is now and now they are closer than ever, because who else is going to give him fatherly advice when the mouse reaches certain milestones in her life,
this poet is green, wet behind the ears on the parenting front, and the father gave him a golden existence,
and maybe the ditch, the strange shape in the field next to the housing complex, actually stands for the word wonderful,
whatever the truth may be, the connections came together all over again
I lived on an army base on the Front Range at the conclusion of the Reagan administration and into the Bush I administration. Dad was a captain doing what he loved at the time. He was and still is an excellent father. This poem was inspired by childhood memories of location, his love and the music of the day. After reading a piece by the one in the dedication, the memories of that year flooded back. This is one of my typical free-verse pieces in my typical voice. Hope you enjoy it.
My Review
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... i spent my childhood in a military base too... my father was in the indian air force... i love how you've brought out the texture of that life... with its multiple hues... one knows one is there for a purpose that one can't comprehend... and yet... childhood unravels... with all the adventures... complexities... joys... this was quite a journey that triggered a million memories... life right now is very, very different... but i do know that my childhood lives within me... immortal as ever... like you said...
whatever the truth may be,
the connections came together
all over again
Posted 12 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
12 Years Ago
Thanks, Serah. I am glad to have you review this. I have missed your valuable input.
12 Years Ago
... i'm glad i've reconnected with your universe of verse... i haven't spent my time wisely since qu.. read more... i'm glad i've reconnected with your universe of verse... i haven't spent my time wisely since quite some time... will do so now... thank you for writing this piece... i can suddenly hear migs from my childhood... and am reminded of tea gardens covered with fireflies in the evenings... and the crazy elephant who once decided to make the runway his ramp... and... and... and... and... :)
12 Years Ago
The night I wrote this brought back a flood of memories for me about my childhood there. Everything .. read moreThe night I wrote this brought back a flood of memories for me about my childhood there. Everything coalesced again so well and I think that's a sign that I should write a piece. Thank you.
... my mind is buzzing with memories since i read this piece... i might end up writing something too.. read more... my mind is buzzing with memories since i read this piece... i might end up writing something too...
This is so well written and easy to read. The images you have created are vivid and the connection between you and your father is heartfelt. It is a pleasure to read great writing and this is brilliant.
What's not to love about this? The REM allusion had my feet bopping immediately, and the free flowing images of love and care free wonder were beautiful. Coincidentally, yesterday was Father's Day here and I felt a definite pang of envy reading your contextual note - you hit the perfect note with this write!
the way you word things is so unique and intellectually refreshing... I wouldn't say "typical" voice at all.. I rather enjoy it.. actually I really enjoyed this piece... I liked this little glimpse into your childhood and that meaningful relationship between you and your father.. well done sir!
I loved reading your author's note to get a background on your thoughts and feelings expressed. Everything... every glimpse.. color... song... they all flow into this moment that is so connected in the threads of you...
I've come back to this one and I see so much that I missed the first time around...the reference in the opening hooked me right away, like a pop song I guess you could say...the 'letter' metaphor was most sly and cunning as well...I'm sure I'm still missing a lot though even after a second go-around...you have an incredible knack for wit, and your poems always remind me of the dramatic monologues of literary eras of old...they unfold like stories but remain unmistakably poetic...fine work Kenneth.
Posted 10 Years Ago
10 Years Ago
Thanks, KK. Glad you like it. I consider this one of my best works.
they were both obscure then
but as a youngster he was
standing in the proper
location above the
green gold, just
the fourth track
on the green
recording
that went
gold,
Certainly poetic gold. You have such a unique pen that combines realism with some masterful phrasing. Awesome work.
Kenneth The Poet is an optimist wrapped in the candy shell of moroseness and cynicism. He lives between the two parallels marked 46 and 49, all while living in the state marked 39. He pretends that he.. more..