dad wore hats

June 19, 2017

not when he should have

on a cold bright day
he would call out
where is your hat?
while the wind played
in his hair.

nor the way he should have

it was always
crunched atop his head
by a nephew or daughter
running around our backyard
at a picnic.

nor what he should have

into the dewy night
the adults would sing
heads touching in harmony
dad smoking a Chesterfield
wearing a bonnet.

until

November 11, 2014

nextofkn3.jpg

until there are no soldiers
we have all died in vain

speaking with tongue

August 8, 2013

We rationalize:
it’s a jungle out there.

We possess the language
to scaffold a lasting peace.

Yet we continue to speak
only reptile.

television lives

August 7, 2013

reality is a corporate
Skinner box.

we scurry like rats
through a maze of aisles…

Must See TV
leads the way…

Spycurity

July 15, 2013

unclesam_watchingyou_750x900.png

No more
security,

just spycurity.

No more sleeping
in peace,

only sleeping
while watched.

                                                                                                                                                                                        2007

image source:

 

My father was born in 1920. His dad left one year later.

He was raised by his mother and his aunt. He was ten when the great depression hit his world.  Dad eventually left school to find work.  He joined the CCC,  and later enlisted in the U.S. Army – a truck driver in the 262 Infantry.

His battle and campaign credentials include:  Normandy, Ardennes (the Bulge), Northern France, and the Rhineland. He brought home some intense memorabilia. We seven kids destroyed it, as the war could not.

Dad did not talk about the war, except for the cases of wine diverted from the headquarters’s staff, or the time he chauffeured Omar Bradley.  He said the captured Germans seemed just like them.  Only they were on the losing side.

He died at sixty.

Each Memorial Day my parents had a picnic .  It was an open house and lasted late into the night.

The following poem is  about my father and makes reference to such an occasion:

Dad Wore Hats

Not when he should have.

On a cold bright day
he would call out
where is your hat?
while the wind played
in his hair.

Nor the way he should have.

It was always
crunched atop his head
by a nephew or daughter
running around our backyard
at a picnic.

Nor what he should have.

Into the dewy night
the adults would sing,
heads touching in harmony –
dad smoking a Chesterfield
wearing a bonnet.

2008

Velcro – Unzipped

June 7, 2008

why a following
and not faith?
why signs
and no horizons?
why flesh
but no sight?

why not faith
and no following?
why not horizons
with no signs?
why not sight
but no flesh?