Father Not To Be

I stare up at the blue sky
covered in chemical clouds
of goodness, and all I see
is a vast, chilling emptiness.

Like an empty womb,
meant to be
the vessel for three.

But they aren't here,
and I still am,
and I wonder
what I did wrong.

Is it because I'm a recalcitrant
child of sin trying can't play his
way through the game no matter
how hard he tries?

Or is it because I treated my spouse
like a sky high pile of s**t and that's
why I'm here writing a poem of sadness
when I should be writing a piece about
changing smelly diapers or teaching my
first born how to count past ten?

I just feel like I'm never going to be
the dad that my dad and my grandfathers
were to me, my siblings, my parents and
my extended family.

And I see the facial joy of cousins
and siblings and friends with something
that I'm never meant to have.

And I have to wonder about those
dads who are like me but still have
faith in a God of Love and
a God of Mercy,
how do you still do it?

How do you still believe?

How do you keep going?

I sit here, alone,
in a dark bedroom
less than two miles
away from the
Mighty Missouri
and type this
depressing prose,
the kind of
depressing prose
that has kept me
alive up to this point,
because love died
and the rage has
taken over,
and that's why
I feel like The Man
In Black, but I almost
always dress in Blue,
and the pain never
goes away, no matter
how bad I yearn for it.

I'm stuck here,
still believing that
November Zero
is my true state
of being,
that being the
father not to be
is my default
function on
this plane of
existence,
no matter
what I do,
no matter
how hard
I try, I am
not the one
to raise sons
and daughters
and I guess I
have to accept
that sullen truth.

And when I do,
the gaping cranial
exit wound will be
the final statement
on the matter.

Reviews

[Marie Harrison]

I appreciate your poem
I too find myself childless
When that's all I ever wanted to be

One thing is certain
Our story isn't over yet
Good things could be
Up ahead
Around the corner

But your poem
I could certainly relate to,
it's an authentic poem
that I enjoyed.