On You, Across The Table

We all want to believe our children will love us
Hold us, kiss us, stay with us,
and wrap their little hands around our fingers
Big eyes watch big people with big love

But they're a squirmy type
Run away, out of our arms
No matter how far we stretch

Exploring dust bunnies in corners
Carrying shoes to bury in the sand box
They all, will all, run away

And you see then,
Perhaps they are not yours.

Individuals behind those big eyes
And we, again, are left to watch
Like past loves left,
Mother, fathers, gone,
And a thousand friends,
drifted away

We own no one,
Our children owe nothing
And we will all realize how little we are
How alone we are

And in that we must find some happiness
We must find some truth
For them, for us,
For you

Reviews

[Nathan Strange]

Hey man, Charles, I've never read much of your stuff and I'm not gonna blow sunshine up your arse as you are the owner of the website. Let me tell you something pal, this is f*****g good mate. It sums up how I feel at the moment! I'm just sitting in front of my computer screen waiting for the computer to speak to me, waiting for reviews. I'm too tired to review at the moment, I can't think let alone read!
I have a beer in front of me sitting by the keyboard. My forehead is creased up, my eyes black, yet I sit here endlessly, waiting for inspiration to write something. I have this dying urge to want to produce just something, even if it's tedious, yet I know that I'm in no state of mind to write anything half decent.
I saw you were on line and thought, let me read something of Charles's for once. He is responsible for this site. Well man your words spoke to me, that last stanza;

Unable to maintain this moment
This connection
This intimacy
Required to record it
Such is the curse of a writer

[Kelly D. Burris]

What a wonderful piece about letting children be their own persons.

And you see then,
Perhaps they are not yours.
I loved this part especially. My Mother always told us that we were gifts to her, entrusted to raise, and given back to God for whatever purpose he made them for.
Gives me warm fuzzies.
Thanks for sharing!
Kelly

[thecoolone52]

yeah i liked this poem because its true about kids and people growing up.... the last stanza is the best..... nice write

[Damian Alan Gray]

It's not until we lose many of our family members that we finally come to this understanding. We must never take our loved ones for granted. They are our only constant traveling companions on this spaceship of life.

[Katie Ceas]

Speaks some serious truth. Good job!

[Barbary Chaapel]

Charlie,

Your poem resonates with me...empty nest syndrome...loving word choices here. Kudos.

[Brenda Sue]

These lines are my favorite;

We all want to believe our children will love us
Hold us, kiss us, stay with us,
and wrap their little hands around our fingers
Big eyes watch big people with big love

So very true, wonderfully written. Great job.

[Rylan Batten]

I..........agree. Wholeheartedly. Good use of wording and I think it flowed very well. Good poem!

P.S. sorry it took me so long to get to this read request

[Red Brick Keshner]

The Requirer of the recording lies deep within us all.
And the writing and reading thereof is a testimony of
a life lived and the livability of life.
Bravo, Charles.

[I.R.]

Great detailed imagery, very specific. I loved the bubble of glow, the books, the tea, the napkins...every image shows what you want to convey. I also love the duality of the theme: it's about this romantic observer watching somebody that attracts him and also about the conception of a poem (Required to record it/ Such is the curse of a writer). I also liked the line break in the penultimate and last lines of the first stanza.

Suggestion- I liked the "jumbled words" but 1) the phrase "jumbled words" is used twice and sounds a bit redundant and 2) I would really like to know what specifically are both persons reading...is it the chalk-written menu? or some advertisement on a bulletin board? I don't know, something specific like the books, the tea, the napkin. That way, you can use "jumbled words" once and then add another image.

I get that the turn is in the third stanza, but how is it that the speaker knows that she's not reading with him anymore? The speaker states that he's afraid that he doesn't read with anymore, but I think if you can add a visual of the person actually being disturbed by the typing or his stare, it will be even better.

Over all, a very warm and really detailed poem that's full of great imagery. I loved the last part, about writing being more important than living. Really enjoyed reading your poem.

[Carl]

I liked this poem alot. Firstly beacause it may well take place in a coffee shop. a coffee shop in a book store is kind of the best place in the world. I like the way the subject in the poem notices the tired eyes and the wrinkled foreheads of others whilst he /she is struggling with the jumbled words inside his/her head. A glimpse in to the world of the writer is contained in the lines pens and paper, tea and napkins, bags and books. and the little apology conatined in the sorry I shake the table with my typing. maybe a laptop as writers never write on paper these days.The last stanza of the poem sums up the frustration that a writer suffers when the last line doesen't happen, or the closing of the chapter doesn't occur. When that connection is lost that he/she has to walk away. But in doing so the belief that writing is so much more than living is preserved and the pretense of the author remains intact. Great write thank you .