Mother, Father

mother

it is gilded with your prayers

that I wander forth into another dusk

your faith in me unwavering

surrounds me like armor

but father you are listening

I see your shadow at the door

come closer

you have loved

so grant me this

some faces can really pierce you

no matter what kind of armor you wear

but you will never know

how it is to live in my today

you have never watched

the slideshow

that is always playing through me

you grew up tied to the cross

well I am tied to a cross of my own

though it cannot look the same as yours

father forgive me

I know not what I do

but sometimes

I love this girl

more than God

because when winter cut me through

and I bled neverending night

star by star

(innumerable poems you never even tried to read)

I didn't think a boy like me could be happy at all

but springtime came with a girl

she likes canoeing and watching

old TV shows / she's teaching me

to fight without armor / day by day

and day by day I'm getting stronger

but I wish

you would smile just once / because all I ever see

is your wounded face hovering above the church pew

as you pray for my soul / I'm killing you by finally living

and I wish you would just let go

give me a smile and say

son

she's a fine, fine girl and I am

glad you're happy

(but that's the trick isn't it

if you're happy you're probably

doing something wrong)

I look behind me

click goes the mind’s shutter

I see the past as people always do

as snapshots of time shot in monochrome

each and every waking moment

filtered through a fog of Homo sepia

and then all shuffled up

hung up to dry in the dark room of the brain

thinking back

I've never thrown a party

gotten drunk or suspended

I'm the older brother

but there is no prodigal here

and when you pull out your camera

to take pictures I can't believe

how different I look

but my camera is freezing up

it fumbles for a filter

the world is altogether too colorful and human

to be filtered through your mind

the world I am entering is not yours

and I must learn by living

so when I come back at Thanksgiving

tarnished

and finally wounded in all the right places

know this

I still see your shadow father

it is the shadow of the cross

it is not my shadow

but it darkens within me

it clouds my memories

where they hang to dry

here's the truth

I really love you father

now why can't you tell me the same