Ghosts Poems: 156 / 500

To The Illegitimate Child

Rating: 3.6

to the illegitimate child,
whose streets are dimly lit
who pores thru dusty photo albums
for the eyes that look like his,

who searches markets and
city parks for his family name,
who wanders thru the naked tenements
whence your grandpa came,

who holds séance with the black-ink
ghosts bound with flimsy twine,
who sits atop the highest branch
of any tree that he can climb,

to watch them all go to their graves
with the secrets that they keep
as the highways whisper lullabies
in your brave ears while you sleep

and as you carry on your lonely
quest thru every face of everyone
you have not lost your father, rather,
your father has lost his son

nobility is rarely ever
present in such a sacrifice
a man’s rash decisions are
often made in desperate drunken cowardice

still, your left thumb and the bus fares
carry you further and further away
from that great big bright green
front garden in which you played

but there is a mother that misses you
on the end of that hotel dial-tone.
you still have her arms to hold you;
you still have a home.

Uriah Hamilton 07 July 2005

A great poem, Jake, well done!

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Michael Shepherd 06 July 2005

The second line is a knock-out! What's said that's not said! I have a friend who got through five foster-families. Now he's a grandfather and lives in half a castle... but is still scared that when he returns home, he'll find it has disappeared... fine, evocative poem.

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Adryan Barnathan 06 July 2005

What a Marvelous poem! ! ! ....Loved the first lines, ''who pores thru dusty photo albums for the eyes that look like his''...really sets the tone and momentum...A well thought out pondering work of art~

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Daisy Khaenzeli 08 February 2018

Add a comment.Great poem.I love it. Woow

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Xxx Xxx 20 August 2006

this is great Jake, very well depicted, i've shared the same feelings thank you

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Gina PrettyBrownEyes 28 July 2006

ooo! ! this is awsome i love the rhythm and rhyme in it. poor sweetie little boy..

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nn mn 16 June 2006

Allusion to his climbing the tree - made me think you might be thinking of a family tree. If so, cool. If unintentional, even cooler!

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Mary Nagy 14 July 2005

Very moving Jake. Such a shame how many of these people their are in the world. Beautiful poem. Sincerely, Mary

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