I Miss My Dad
Hi there. I wanted to submit something for posting on your site, and I hope that it meets your qualifications. This is a poem I wrote about my dad, Cliff, who died on July 29, 2002. Everything is still so very fresh and hard, so I wrote this to try and express what's happening. It's the first poem I wrote about him, and it was written like a stream of consciousness. There's no form or anything, just how I saw the words. I hope you'll find it worthy of including, because I'm starting to realize that other people have felt the same sad things. Thanks very much - katrina moore

certain depths

all the way to certain depths I ache until I bleed

but every time I start to heal I find another need





there is no solvent, no solution, all I do is seep

and from that weakened core of me I pull the strength to weep





small winds keep blowing in this or that direction

black rain coats my affection

blood vessels redden my complexion

and I fall down to my knees





each time I try to stand I fall

each time I look around I’m small

each time I need you I start to call

but beckons go unheard





not a word may we exchange in such a separated state

no chance to glance your way and acknowledge moment’s fate





the opportunity for laughing has just blown past and all I asked

was one more moment, fleeting even

I don’t believe you’re gone





i stand decorated head to foot with my costume of the day

don’t even glance my way, don’t share my air

i’m so ill prepared to be out and about, to be seen by strange eyes

but familiar ones, too





“Boo hoo, her father’s dead. Dead man in a box, under grass and rocks, boo hoo.”





sometimes i think the selfish bastards don’t know why i cry

but fragments of compassion make me grateful on their behalves

that they haven’t a clue what one would do with a dead father.





ophelia wept so painfully and I didn’t recognize

that brokenness in her eyes, but in the morn it covers mine

and i see now that i’m not fine, i’m not fine, i’m not fine





condolences fall like brown baked leaves

landing on the eaves of me and choking back

the bad attack of rushing reality





frailty determined, humanity was there

but none escaped mortality

alone and cold and bare





km 0823020313p
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