Emile Pinet Poet Narrative

Notes About The Poem

A Wannabe Dream

It was Christmas day nineteen eighty-five
when my sister took a photo of me and my dad.
We were both smiling,
with my arms draped over his shoulder...
a wannabe dream. 

With his arms stiffly crossed, the tension was palpable,
that was the first and only time I ever embraced my father;
and it was all a facade...
a wannabe dream.
 
We both appear stiff and uncomfortable; 
participating in this posed lie.
Standing by the family Christmas tree, we're smiling,
as if he wasn't the man I've feared all my life;
but instead, was a loving father,
not the soldier who would demean and beat me...
a wannabe dream.
 
I sometimes stare at that photograph, wishing it were real,
for it was the first time I felt anything other than fear
in his presence, even if I was only pretending...
a wannabe dream.

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Constance La France October 3, 2019 at 5:20 PM Emile congratulations on your win in my challenge with this emotional write and what a great photo ! Emile Pinet October 4, 2019 at 9:04 AM Thanks Constance, I appreciate the placement and your support my friend, Emile.

Jeanne Mcgee October 3, 2019 at 2:27 PM I wish it was real for you....keep the dream. Your words really touched me. Congrats on your top win. Emile Pinet October 4, 2019 at 9:04 AM Thanks Jeanne, I appreciate your support my friend, Emile.

Regina Mcintosh October 3, 2019 at 9:54 AM This is a very well written and "deep" poem that I can empathize and sympathize with. It is so sad when there is a fear of a parent, but I'm glad for your winning entry. God bless you with many joyful memories Emile Pinet October 3, 2019 at 10:17 AM Thanks Regina, I appreciate your support my friend, Emile.

Juliet Ligon October 2, 2019 at 4:29 PM Wow, so powerfully written. There is such a sad reality contrasted by that dream. Poetic hugs, Juliet. Emile Pinet October 3, 2019 at 9:47 AM Thanks Juliet, I appreciate your support my friend, Emile.

John Hamilton September 25, 2019 at 3:45 PM I relate so much, I think they were all cold and loveless that second world war generation, so many children scarred emotionally...well at least we have poetry to release the pain somewhat! Emile Pinet September 26, 2019 at 7:39 AM Thanks John, I appreciate your supportive comments my friend, Emile.