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my father

i remember him
so pitiful
his heart would go crazy
and whole oak tables
would shake in his grip

and i wondered
what force
drove the small wheel
of this man's being
i wanted it all to stop

his very heart
to stop
because the shaking
wouldn't stop
until he stopped

because everything he held
shook fiercely
and i thought there was nothing
he held more tightly
than me

I've written several poems about my father. What I like about this one is the indirect manner with which you reveal physical abuse.

At the same time, N, perhaps with the safety of years gone by, can still view the father as pitiful. I know my father was unwell, unstable and may not have fully understood the consequences of his actions. None of this negates the damage.

I love the last three lines which to me, appear both as terrorizing and as a wish for the father's affection. Great work.

Wow. This is one of your best....just kudos!

Thanks Kenneth and Bob

Interesting, this is one of the first poems I ever wrote way back in 1994 or abouts. Then I didn't really seriously write again until 2010

Yes, I noticed, Billy.

Our father's can seem so powerful
and at the end we come to realise the love that they have for us.

Thanks Frank