Father Figure
You were meant to be a man
The sheltering canopy, shade,
Keep the bitter sun away, and
Meant to hold me, when scared
He who clasps my tiny hand
Pats my head, or tweaks my nose,
Meant to be, a father figure,
Watch over me as time goes
And instead you crushed the rose
Snipped the bud and snapped the stem,
Barred the gates for laughs to flow,
Broke the star of Bethlehem
Made the world a bleaker place
Painted, doused in grays and black
And if a hint of light showed,
Bolted the barred curtain back.
And I saw me through your eyes
Twisted, ugly and malformed
Let you demolish my being
And in that inferno, I formed
It was you who sowed the seed
That grew thorns, but all for you
In the furling, blooming years,
Threw the buds and kept it cruel
So you sowed and so you reap,
I am built of brambles, pain,
I run through with poison, hate,
All your loss is what you gained
All for you, my father figure,
Undeserved of eulogy
From you was my black current
That will be your elegy
I bury you in the shadow
In the lost, never began
Write you in a dead language,
Scripted in forgotten hands..
All the sneers, the mocking spite
All the torture that befell
I will watch it pull you down
Through the accursed gates of Hell.
And for that, my tale to tell,
Ends in hope, of coming peace
Kept trapped in a hollow shell,
I will fly to blessed release.
©CM
08.01.2013
To everyone who’s still in an abusive situation, you will get out. To everyone who’s made it to the other side.. You’re a survivor. There is no one stronger than you.
Domestic abuse is yet another form of bullying. Except that this time, it doesn’t come from a random stranger who stuffs you in your locker for your lunch money. Or that girl who makes you do her homework. No, when it happens at home, it hurts just that much more.. Because these are the people who are supposed to love you, aren’t they?
And yet this happens. People incapable of loving themselves don’t find it in them to raise their children with love. And the cycle perpetuates.
It doesn’t have to, though. There’s only so long that someone can subdue or oppress you. Either you or someone who loves you, will find the escape route… While the culprit remains trapped in the empty rooms of their mind, where they find that the person they hated and wanted to drive away, was really themselves. And if you hang on with tenacity born of survival, you’ll find that way. Keep fighting. Fight for yourself. For your heart, for your sanity, for you own life and you.
Because you will get out. You will make it to the other side. You’ll live and laugh and love. No matter what happens. You’ll be free.
And you will survive.
Love and light,
Cookie ❤
CALLIOPE'S LYRE 
[…] Father Figure | calliopes lyre […]
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you spoke truth and gave hope within your words, i have no connection personally with the subject, but still i find myself wrapped in the emotion and feeling, you have certain talent i hope to read more of this fine verse
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Thank you Clifton. Hope is the one thing that fuels some lives, and this was a shout out to them. I’m glad I could show you a different side of things. I appreciate you taking the time to comment, it certainly means a lot to me.
Cookie =)
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We are kindred spirits, and one day I may tell you my story. Let me just say that I lost my mother at age 5 and my father at age 13…from there I grew up in the “system”. Your poetry is an excellent example of how things happen…some survive, some go on to a life unfit for human consumption. As you, I feel right in calling myself a survivor. Thank you for this one Cookie….It touched me deeply…
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You’re most welcome, Bill.. Some days I need to remind myself that there is an other side, and there will be to whatever’s happening.. I’m glad you are, and I’d be honored if you shared your story with me. =) thank you for reading, Bill. ❤ =)
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[…] Father Figure | calliopes lyre […]
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[…] Father Figure | calliopes lyre […]
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[…] Father Figure | calliopes lyre […]
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Hi, I read one of your poems reblogged on someone’s blog who visited my blog and well … curiosity drew me to find your actual blog, I think it was the purple thing 🙂 Bookmarked your blog and will return another time to enjoy your writing!
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Thank you! One purple to another, welcome to my blog! =D
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[…] Father Figure | calliopes lyre […]
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[…] Father Figure | calliopes lyre […]
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❤ Keep Fighting. Lots of Hope.
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Madsies ❤ ❤
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Cookie, this is one of the most powerful pieces I’ve read for a while that chronicles the terror of abuse in all its facets. I understand it all too well from my own perspectives. Only someone who has experienced it could express it in this depth of feeling. Well done.
~Paul~
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Thank you Paul. It’s saddening how many people truly ‘get’ what I’m saying.. To think so many of us have shared similar shadows in our pasts, it’s staggering. I’m glad you liked what I wrote… Thank you. =)
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When one finally decides to “escape”, it becomes an “all or nothing” proposition to oneself with the self realization that there was no other choice. One pays now, or later, and ultimately, the decision is life shifting, and from that point on, the empathy and compassion for those in distress or dismay, is enriched, not only preparing one to heal–it better prepares the abused to heal those who later face this kind of abuse. The cycle and sharing of how to heal will eventually help perhaps in eliminating this kind of behavior. Well done Cookie, you certainly have a grasp of what many will never seek to understand. Bravo! ❤
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Thank you, sweet Alma. =) the concept of freedom is so simple, yet so elusive.. One can be battered in mind and body and yet, yet hold on to a freedom of the soul, with the hope of what is to come. That was told to me by a close friend, and I hold those wise words dear.
Thank you for reading, sweet Alma. Hope is built by sharing, and lord knows, you shine bright! =)
❤ ❤ ❤
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[…] Father Figure | calliopes lyre […]
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You have chosen an appropriate structure for a longish piece with the stanzas encapsulating your major points and the rhyme scheme aiding the rhythm for tone and metre. This makes it easier for the reader to absorb both the enormity of the message and the pleasure of the poetry in manageable bites. The language and phraseology are painfully eloquent – the words of the 5th stanza are among the finest examples of introspective exposition that I have ever read. This is a fine piece by a fine poet. Very well done Cookie.
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Hello Mike.
Thank you so much. I’m happy that you liked it. =) I have to confess, I did not actually draft or structure the poem this way consciously. Since I’m a science major, I haven’t had any formal training in writing or poetry, after the standard high school english syllabus. Most of the time I write solely based on instinct, adding breaks where they seem fit and white space where the content and rhyme needs it. I really don’t follow any specific rhyming scheme either, it just depends on how the poem starts in my head. The few instances that I’ve experimented are actually the only times written based on forms, like etherees or villanelles.
It makes me doubly happy that my poems are okay on the techincal side too. It would be pretty embarassing if really all the senior and trained poets were laughing at me, instead of with me. =P Thank you so much for reading, and for your comment. I really appreciate it. 🙂
Cookie 🙂
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Wow I’m so glad I came to your blog through the comment you left on my Hope Circle post. This post was so vivid and stirred powerful emotions within. Lovely work Cookie!
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Thank you Amba. =) I’m glad you liked it. =)
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Thank you Amba. =) I’m glad you liked it. =)
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