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...
You my friend are a true magican of words, as a reader I was hooked and whole poetry of your's run like a movie..childhood and memories simply amazing
Posted 10 Years Ago
10 Years Ago
Thanks, Amos. Glad you like it.
10 Years Ago
I checked all your work on youtube and find each piece filled with message. Adore honesty, raw and c.. read moreI checked all your work on youtube and find each piece filled with message. Adore honesty, raw and courageous writes and that is what i like a freedom to share and express feelings. The world need to see your work my friend, your one of the finest writer I met, for me honor and pleasure is all mine.
Thank you for the story in the poem. I knew the old timers in my 15 years in the Army. As a young soldier I remember drinking with and enjoying their stories. I became like them. They taught me the old timers. Train the soldiers well and enjoy life. I like your dad's hat and how you learn to understand his life. Thank you for sharing the excellent story. Best stories are the real one's.
Coyote
The musical theme was easy to latch my mind to and tied the write together well
The feeling that the author was a mathematics lover also falls into my mind.
About dates... You must not love history, or at least not enjoy how it is taught today. Ha.
Yet, we could learn all we need to know from history without knowing the dates...
Hmmmmm? May need to keep that to myself.
Then enters the real debate. Fatherhood. The memories of your father wrapped in the albums of music you shared.
The failings not as important as the time he chose to spend with you.
I think we have the solution. Dates my not matter, but time does!
Is the letter really a "w" or is the number unrelated and the real puzzle solved in consideration of "m"?
I enjoyed the journey with you today.
Scott.
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Thanks for review, Scott. I am quite pleased with the description. You deconstructed my mindset quit.. read moreThanks for review, Scott. I am quite pleased with the description. You deconstructed my mindset quite nicely when I wrote this. And I hope my daughter's memories of me are as positive as they are of my father's.
11 Years Ago
I suspect they will be. The desires of the heart understood by theind have a way of growing into rea.. read moreI suspect they will be. The desires of the heart understood by theind have a way of growing into reality...
Enjoy the blessings of your understandings.
Completely enjoyed this piece...it was a story within a beautifully penned poem. You chose the perfect wording, phrasing and imagery to bring alive your thoughts and this little moment in your life. This is as complex as it is simple...well done.
i get hints at r.e.m. and george w buttmonkey in this that made me howl and cringe at the same time. i have to say that i really enjoy your considerable wit and your lavishly imaged yet unique and progressive style of writing. this smacks of writers like alan ginsberg and shel silverstein at the same time, i love it. what a wild ride!
Holy cats, dude. I love this. Every damn word. I laughed out loud when you referred to Bush One as a shrub xD All of the little subtleties throughout, the references to the music of the time and the green and the gold and the W...it all gave me such a warm feeling. And, aw, the mouse...that is too sweet. Excellent piece, Kenneth, just excellent. I am a huge fan of free flowing poetry and this is one of the finest examples I've seen. well done.
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..