Father’s Day

Fathers should be an inspiration until the day they die

Or so I say

But I say a lot


And only


Where it remains




With this admission

I’ve manifested another


For me


Keep it inside is what my

Dad taught

Down deep inside

Where it’ll







There were grains of truth sprinkled amid his vast reserves of useless garbage


‘If your uncertainties and fears

Don’t wither and shirk

And die’ he’d say

‘Bear your crosses wear your crosses

And channel your

Flourishing disease

Into work’

He’d say


‘Because someone has to

Bring home the bacon’


The bacon is important he taught me

The bacon is life he taught me

I found out much later

That it can only

Be traded for an approximation

Of life


A little bit of your skin

For a lot of my own

Seems fair

I’ve approximated a life

Fair is nowhere


My father never warned me

About how it would feel, though

This stuffing and jamming and ramming

My unpleasant emotions

My ambiguous feelings

Ouroboros style

Back into my piles


But, he never gained the understanding of anything

Let alone how his

Own process


My process

Was the virus condemning

His own gestalt


This was something

I had to find out

On my own


Reflective Self-Portrait  digital photo manipulation, 2018 copyright BHE



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s