Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

father (Remove filter)

How Did It Get So Late So Soon? [song version]

How Did It Get So Late So Soon?

 

The man who scared the ghosts away,

The woman who healed wounds with a kiss,

I think of them more nowadays

In sad and troubled times like this.

No longer there to hug the pain

From tired bones and broken hearts,

To shield you from the winter rain

That permeates where old age starts.

 

Another day of fleeting tasks

From rising su...

Read and leave comments (5)

ageingseeing parents in mirrorageold ageadvicemotherfatherson

The Bayonet In The Shed [REPOST with audio]

I'm reposting this poem with the audio I recorded of it (as a song) to commemorate my father and the other soldiers who fought during WW2 in Asia - The Forgotten Army of Burma - for the 75th Anniversary of VJ Day

 

The Bayonet In The Shed

 

He put it there in forty nine,

in a woodworm riddled drawer,

wrapped it in a greasy rag.

A remnant from the war.

On top of it he laid h...

Read and leave comments (7)

🌷(5)

fatherhorror of warmemoriesold soldierthe forgotten armyVJ DayWW2

Ye Tale Of Brave Sir Moppalot

Ye Tale Of Brave Sir Moppalot

 

I wasn’t quite there yet

So this story is told second hand

Of the bravest and noblest knight

To ever gallop over this land

 

He was sitting quietly at home

When a neighbour just down the street

Knocked on the castle door

To advise him to get on his feet

 

A princess in need of his help

Had called out his name in the night

Be...

Read and leave comments (1)

🌷(3)

birthday 17family talefatherknightlegendnapowrimo2018noble

Son Of My Father

Son Of My Father

 

What did you do in the war dad?

I fought against Fascists, son.

 

And were you frightened there dad?

Did you want to turn around and run?

 

Yes, I was frightened there son

So, don’t believe the lies that are spun

 

About the death and the glory of war, boy.

There is death, but of glory there’s none.

 

Thanks for all that you did dad

A...

Read and leave comments (0)

🌷(1)

anti fascistfathergood advicesoldierssonthankswar

The Father's Curse

 

The Father’s Curse

 

I am not  the man you used to be

 

the acorn falling softly

in the shade of your tree

raising ungrateful sons

to their own prosperity

fighting a war

so that others could be free

the nurturing of potential

that you swore you couldn’t see

expected to take root

and share your ancient symmetry

being a loving father

when it wasn’t m...

Read and leave comments (1)

🌷(1)

ungratefulsonfatherfootstepsown pathdestiny

Soldier's Box

Soldier’s Box

 

Wooden box

Lock

Key

 

Brass bullet casing

Spent

Flakes of tobacco

Unsmoked

 

Grains of sand

Sepia tinted photograph

Pyramids

And pith helmets

 

Soldiers Service

And Pay book

Will unwritten

Will not needed

 

Nib encrusted

Fountain pen

Brass button

Coloured ribbon

 

Yellowed letters

Ink a faded blue

S...

Read and leave comments (0)

🌷(1)

boxfatherlockedmementoswar

Blue Smoke Ghost

Blue Smoke Ghost

 

A matchbox scratch

A flare of light

The smell of sulphur

 

A yellow patch

Above his chair

On the ceiling

 

A row of pipes

Hung in a rack

Saliva drips

 

The suck

And suck

And suck on shank

 

Red glow

In the dusk

On a back step

 

The aroma

Of spices

In the ready-rub

 

Scratching

Grey ash

From the c...

Read and leave comments (2)

🌷(2)

fatherkillerpipe smokingsimple pleasuresmoketobacco

The Bayonet In The Shed

The Bayonet In The Shed

 

He put it there in forty nine,

in a woodworm riddled drawer,

wrapped it in a greasy rag.

A remnant from the war.

On top of it he laid his medals,

nothing more was said

until the day my father

took the bayonet from the shed.

 

We had pestered many times

and he had said ‘perhaps’

when we asked him if he’d killed

any Krauts or any Ja...

Read and leave comments (4)

🌷(2)

bayonetfatherherokillingmedalsold soldierwarww2. burma

Dexteram Patris

Dexteram Patris

Uncomfortable
seeing him that way,
and she,
ever supportive,
gently touching
his arm
for reassurance

but there is a failing,
something not the same,
although in looks
we are so similar.

The Prodigal returns
and sees his father,
straight of back
and stern of countenance,
falling to pieces.

The once proud frame -
busted

and she,
as beautiful as always,
...

Read and leave comments (7)

prodigal sondeclining healthdementiafatherfavourite chairrichpixright hand of the father

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message