I've developed this poem already but I'll let you comment on how crappy it is before I show you the finished product.


Better Off

Turn that off.
Don't let it in.
God would not approve.
We'll stray closer to
a mind of depravity.
Look!
They kiss.
Touching the other in
lust.
Shy away my sons.
Guard your hearts.
Be your vision God's
and turn the thoughts away from
sex with urgency.
Do so or
fear
what smite will visit
you.
Know right from wrong.
Shun public expression of
sexual nature.
Push it farther
down and rely on
God's love to see you through.
For my sons
I pray such ailments be overcome.
Not to twist what
God has made, the divine laws
He hath set, to take
sex so lightly.
My sons,
I pray that they would not be
like me.

i thought it was good! a few of the lines take away from the flow like

I believe this is the third draft. I ditched just about everything but left some parts.

I reread this poem a while back and couldn't stand it. It was, well, I'd say descent. But I just couldn't leave it alone. I rewrote the sonamab*tch.

I changed the title because the poem itself had changed.


The Way He Loves Me


Don't call your brother that
it's not nice.
They're making out on TV.

Turn it off!
Come here...
Come--here when I call you, Mac.
Clean up your room.
You're so smart.
God's got a plan for your life.
This is going to hurt me

more than it'll hurt you.
I'll build you that club house
I'm always talking about.
Remember? I promised.

Don't touch the thermostat.
Who touched the thermostat?

Mac--wake up.
It's time for Church.
Yes you are.
Get up.

Don't say that, don't say that.
I'm proud of my boy.
Just that--there's one more thing.

You're sleeping in on Sunday
and God's waiting for you.
Careful, son
I'm looking out for

your best ineterests.
There's something special about you.
We're always struggling.
But God's been good to us.

I'm proud of you.

They were asking about you at Church today.
By the way,
have you been going? Lately?
I happened to mention to
everyone

you came home this weekend.
And they said, "Let's keep praying.
He'll come around."
Mrs. Milby asked,
"Where is he?"
I said, "At home,"

sleeping.

Joey,

I really liked this poem, especially this part...

...Shy away my sons.
Guard your hearts.
Be your vision God's....

I re-read it about 3 times, I find myself interpreting the hidden words in the poem and I like it....

Thanks for sharing

D

Wow. This is cool. It reads kind of like static-y t.v....Or channel surfing through a life. Yeah, that's better. Or, you know, when you're watching a movie and want to skip all the boring parts, so you fast forward and only watch the funny or significant ones. Babble aside, I really like this. Very nicely written and executed.

~Best~
Megan

I turned the first draft into my teacher and he told me I didn't engage the subject enough. The poem danced around the issue without actually penetrating the real substance of the relationship between my father and I. It needs a little more revision. But I can't bring myself to do it quite yet. At this point I hate all my poetry.

you hate all your poetry now?
hate is such a strong word.
i am sure your dad told you that, if your mom didnt.
this poem touched me.
thank you for sharing it.

Don't assume to know why I 'hate' something. Just because a posted a poem about my father doesn't necessarily mean that I hate all my poems because my father and mother told me that. Having been diagnosed as Bi-polar it doesn't matter how stable your environment is, you can feel depressed for no reason at all. And of course, you can blame your parents. I choose not to. But I'm honest about who my parents were, and are. Thus, you have the exposure of my father's neo-fundamental Christian perspective.