My son—
do not run.
Stay close,
the world is full of snares.
I have carried you
through nights of thunder,
through roads of hunger and dust.
My arms were a shield,
my breath your lullaby.
But now—
I cannot hold the storm.
My voice cracks,
yet still I sing:
My son, dear son,
walk gently,
do not stumble.
Your name is carved
in the marrow of my bones.
If the earth swallows me,
remember this:
I fought for the light
so you could rise.
Sing my song when you are weary.
Sing it as your shield.
And know—
even in silence,
I am beside you.
It's difficult to define a father precisely
So, let's imagine how a father would be
A father may be figuratively similar to these:
A starting point, a fulcrum, a roof, a piece of land
A mountain, a sky, a star, a beam of sunshine
A lamp, a mirror, a book, a guide,a set of minds,
...
I reckon a father can be similar to each of them
if he is viewed from different perspectives
However, fatherhood will not be fairly defined
If all the pieces above aren't yet combined ?
Fathers are familiar with their children
Attitudes of responsility are mandated
Teaching is best learned from modeling
Heaven painted perfect fatherhood pictures
Every action and word should be weighed
Respect can be demanded when earned
Heroes of children should be their parents
Offering prayers for our children is a must
Obligations to kids should never be a chore
Dedicated fathering is to train and give our best
Have I failed as a father? I asked myself.
As You questioned, with anger in your eyes.
And my heart is torn by your disregard,
For all the sacrifices I've made in your life.
You want to know what I've done for you? ,
What I've given, and why I've held back?,
But you don't see the late nights I worked,
Or the dreams I gave up to put you first.
You accuse me of not saving for your future,
Not working enough to give you what you want,
But I know that sometimes less is more,
And you are blind to all the blessings you've got.
I couldn't give you everything you asked for,
Because a parent must make tough choices too,
And I may not have succeeded in all my efforts,
But I hope that my love for you shines through.
So don't judge me by what you see,
Or by the things I didn't provide,
Instead, appreciate the memories we've shared,
And the love that always resides.
27/10/2023
Father’s toes are steel-capped,
Rough, worn-out leather, a layer
Of thick polish that cracks
With each bend, each step.
His feet carry a child’s weight,
A bundle of laughter and bouncing curls
Balanced at his ankles, shuffling
Across outdated carpeted floors.
A moment of decompression
After a day of hard labour, father
Carried the child from infantile morning
To the matured evening.
There came a time when the child,
Older and weary, thrust father’s feet
Upon her own, her arms under his.
Mimicking the act of childhood,
The child walked her fatherly puppet,
The body limp, unresponsive,
Across those once-carpeted floors
And into a place of refuge.
Father and child rely on each other
To pick the other from sullen ground,
Shake off the dirt and grime of worry
And lift them pridefully to their feet.
Father and child are joined in blood,
The same small features, the wide smile
That consumes half the face, and the ethic
Of working hard for little merit.
Father’s steel-capped toes stepped aside,
Gave way to slow movements with purpose,
And heavy breaths subside
Any desire to pick up the pace.
I remember a place where I've told you once
That if I've told you once it was a thousand times
To let me make mistakes and spare you the burden
And it seemed to reasonably rhyme
But amidst self righteous indignation I realized
The true wisdom earned through self remedied flaw
And thought to myself, now, two thousand times if twice
If anything it meant nothing at all
But what should anything mean really
If not least a lesson
As though teaching lessons
Weren't some twisted obsession
As if any of pain it would lessen, at all
But I can't help but try
Seeing angst in your eyes
On hands and knees as you struggle to crawl
06/05/2023
Mothers of the world, I plead with you,
For each child you nurture, a life anew.
Be they good or bad, in your arms they grew,
Amidst a harsh world, let anger subdue.
Fathers standing tall, can you comprehend?
The struggles they face, the wounds they must mend.
Frowns breed chaos, let compassion ascend,
Boys forced into men, a cycle we must transcend.
And who should carry the weight of this plight?
The child who cries out, seeking solace in the night?
The mother balancing, with all her might,
The father, a pillar, when darkness takes flight?
Or is it society, the one to blame,
Muting our cries, labeling them as tame,
But who's there for you, in sorrow and flame,
A listening mother, with love as her name.
A father toiling, his devotion unyielding,
While you weep, he senses the pain you're concealing,
Society looms, its blows ever revealing,
Can we recreate a world where compassion is healing?
Let us rise together, mothers and fathers as one,
In a symphony of love, our battles undone,
Where society listens, its heart truly won,
And the silent cries find solace in the sun.
Raising these babies,
As a father I done had my ups and downs,
As a man I be praying I don't let my babies down,
As a brother my religion has me focused on The Highest,
As I pray and you know I got my babies right beside me,
As a father gotta teach them that within there's something greater,
As a man I love their mothers without them I couldn't make them,
As a brother my religion has me focused on a better way,
I know I'm far from perfect but at least I taught them how to pray.
Raising these babies,
As a father I done cried so many times,
As a man if I can't feed them I'll turn to a life of crime,
As a brother my religion tells me put them babies first,
After God life is hard but I know it could be worst,
As a father I'll protect them cause I love my sons and daughters,
As a man I'm responsible to nurture and support them,
As a brother my religion tells me teach them equity,
They're my heart and without them I don't think that I can breathe.
Father is not just one
who gives birth to children
I have seen friends
who lost their father
when they were in teens
and had to play role of father
They curbed childish instincts
to be carefree, play, eat and sleep
They calmed fear of family
stating in childish tone
gloom days too shall pass by
Tried to earn a bit they could
sacrificed their own dreams
but kept siblings dreams alive
would study and work
to keep the home fire burning
Days passed by
Life became stable
All siblings
achieved their goals
Teenage father rewarded
for sacrificing childhood
Grown up siblings
still regard elder brother
as a father figure
An inspiring tale
of father who became father
before giving birth to children
Father is anyone
who nurtures anyone not just own
_________________________________
© Hitendra Mehta
Two taps in an oval, ceramic mold
(time pause of my playful, jittery tot)
were set to dry and decorated bold,
placed with care in a rustling garden plot.
Fresh blooms surround, abounding with vigor
like children's laughter, sunshine's pulse and rain.
His feet fast extend, toes growing bigger,
yet small remain his precious footprints twain.
5-2-2021
"Footprints" Old or New for a Prize Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caroline Devonshire
About the eleventh hour,
Came a strong man of valor,
Who came so meek and mild,
With inner, unending power.
His time was in an age,
When Satan’s forces would rage,
To take down the generation,
Chosen to mark the day.
Along came a beloved child to him,
Paramount in fighting the evil wild,
Who would need a stable root to stem,
And help to shape and save his life.
This man does everything he can,
With so much good to give,
Bringing honor to his family's plan,
Living to serve, and freely forgive.
I am this man, whom walks with God,
Holding His hand, following His plan.
It’s now our time, to affirm our all in all,
By obedience, to His every command.
I forever give all things gratefully,
Back to our Father in Heaven,
Who graciously gives so bountifully,
As the miracle in the bread of life, the leaven.
I would not have this role, were it not for my goodly mother,
Who sacrificed unto no end, to save our family’s soul.
We are eternally blessed by her, like no other,
Because with God’s perfect love, He saves us in whole.
So my son is knocking up
The alphabet at the worktable
He's onto the letter 'j'
(Should it have a hat or not?)
"Downward stroke, with a curl,
Then stab his face."
He's onto the letter 't'
(The Romans pronounced it 'tay')
"Downward stroke, then slap
Him across the mug."
The ancients kept reversing and
Rotating them
I do the same with my son
And as he's tucked into bed
I regret the bloodthirsty
Language I used
Be careful what you utter
To a child
"Dad, I'm going to blow your glasses off."
My father was a man once
but never again
His children watched as he welcomed his demons
Whispering offers from which he couldnt abstain
Quickly they betrayed him and held his freedom
His face masked in umbra, his eyes, their domain
He spew forth lies, endless nights of schemin'
His dark maw was insatiable, only hunger remained
Hadn't seen him in years but he was already leavin'
I want to love him but only hold disdain
Never did anything but donated his semen
Marking his sons with the curse of Cain
We were children once
but never again
When I was young I didn’t quite understand my shoulders,
“Shoulders!” I would scoff.
“Why they’re just here to help hold up my head
and to keep my shirts from falling off”.
It wasn’t until I became a parent…until I became a Dad
that I finally came to realize the importance my shoulders had.
Soon after that blessed day…it really didn’t take long
to realize why my shoulders were there…
and why they needed to be strong.
When my children were so very young
when their life still so brand new
my shoulders were there for them to ride on
and see life from a different point of view.
And when they grew a little older…as their life unfurled
my shoulders were there for them to stand on…
as they stepped into the world.
Along the way I learned a funny thing about my shoulders
for…near as I can tell
not only do they have to be strong…
but they need to be soft as well.
Strong so my children can lean on them
when their life is filled with dread
And soft, when they need comfort,
for a place to lay their head.
Yes, everyday when I look in the mirror
I have a million reasons to be elated
not the least of which is knowing
why my shoulders were created.
From Pop Idol to American Idol, the Journey Across the Pond was Worth the Trip.
From the X Factor, Britain’s Got Talent to AGT, the Road has been long and Ever Winding.
Though while walking the streets of Lambeth, and playing in the school yard in Elstree seems like a distant Fond Memory.
You Spent long days at Radlett and later developed a keen intellect at Dover College.
From EMI to Fanfare Records you further developed your Musical Genius and Style at BMG and S Records.
Though I think that the role which will encapsulate the Rest of Your Life, and be Most Fulfilling came to Fruition on February 14, in 2014 with the birth of Your Son Eric.
I Read that you Broke your back, which I can only imagine is very painful.
I know that this is not a Poem, or very Artistic, but I wanted to write to say as a Music and Talent Fan, Thank you.
I Wish for you God’s Richest blessing in the future.
May his Grace, Love, Peace and Understanding abide with You Always.
God Bless,
Sincerely
One of Many Fans
Author Paul Cumberbatch ( September 2nd, 2020)
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