Father- My Father Poem by Mark Hurlin Shelton

Father- My Father



FATHER, MY FATHER

Father my father who were you father?
Father whose eyes were not two stars of the night sky
Father who stuttered and tried to teach me to read
Father who named me Fletcher
Father who was a strange child
Who fathered a strange child

Father Frederick who read wild tales of pirates and mutiny
Father who led me by the hand and lost me on sea side walks
Father who before my birth who had poor faith in his own image
Suicidal father who stuck his head in a gas oven
Unsuccessful even at suicide

Father who gambled his money on horses
Tortured by his own choices
Father Fred who painted white
My grandfathers wall by the granadilla vine
In his underwear and my mothers yellow sun hat

Father of whom I found a photo, aged two,
Playing happily in a puddle of mud
Father who got fat and wore black baggy suits
And danced with old ladies down at the club

Sad lonely father who smoked too much
Father who was happiest alone with a history book
Father who is a mystery to me
I wish that you were here with me
For I am a mystery to myself

Father who kept one job all his life
Father the servant, a waiter who served rich people their food
To your final funny end, fell face in plate
Perhaps they thought it rude
They you died in their lunchtimes, ruining appetites

Father who the hell were you
Father do you know me can you see me,
It is you who conceived me
Do you genetically, spiritually or mentally live on in me
How does your DNA cause me to dream endlessly and think absurd thoughts
At ridiculous late hours

Did you too have wild visions and journeys, weave poems and gaze at the night sky
Did you too hopelessly romanticise?
What spinning mad muse whispered into your head
When you carried me in your loins?

Am I reflected in the mirror of my fathers dreamspun mind?
Have you thought these thoughts and dreamt of what I talk?
Did you wander with lonesome hopeful dreams the empty streets
In search of someone who could listen and understand the frantic fervour of your mind?

My father are you in heaven?
If so will they take me too?
My father who felt confused-
Did all your horses lose?

Father remember that day when I read aloud
and you were so proud of me?

Dear father, today my soul is broken, alone and bruised
My father you left my mother and me an old pair of shoes

Father do you look down at me from some celestial star
And think of me and smile, father? If you have the power to bless me
and need them now.
Please Father.
Did I turn out better than you hoped?
Pray for me father for my sake pray to THE Father
Intercede for me, call on the friendly angels to remove stones from my track, speed my course
Negotiate my fate with the benelovent supreme deity
Plead on my behalf as I will pray for you
Don't forget me father you left me too soon

Father when my mother told me about your passing
I cried and laughed and cried
Then went and tidied up my toys
And wandered off to feed my tortoise

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
A poem about my father Frederick who died when I was five.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Seamus O Brian 20 July 2017

I have peeped in through the left-open door of your soul and witnessed the magical beauty of poetry at work in a poet's heart. Such intimate reflection bids the quieting of breath and a lightness of step for fear of intruding. I will leave the door open, in hopes that such iridescent musings might remain visible to those artistic hearts who pass by and see themselves in the reflection of your poetry, who recognize the resonating weight of wonder in their own hearts so richly conveyed by your words. It has been a privilege, good sir.

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