Sweet Child O’ Mine

Sweet child, whispered. I welcomed you into this world with pain and anger. How did I? My womb was a machine feeding this monster they called marriage. Where was he when I needed him? When I pained? But there you were, sweet boy. I did not remember how you grew up, never did. I fed you. I held you in my hands. I might have given you a few haircuts, held your right hand when you were learning to write. Or, did I? I know I have disciplined you. I wanted you to learn how tough this world was, and how it made me. I wanted you to know the pain I felt, whispered. I have supported you. I showed you hard work. I hit you so your body would obey and last, whispered, so you became better. Better than them I never met. I yelled so you could hear better. My love was harsh on you, sweet child. There was no need to practice such. You had enough. I needed time, my own space, and healing that never came. Now that you’ve suddenly grown up so perfectly, the way I wanted it, I am proud. I am sorry I did not hit you harder, scold you harsher. Now that you are afar, o’ mine.

Sweet child, understood. I made you. She and I did. Darn, I remember that day you were born. Where was I, again? Surely I was busy. But there you were, sweet boy. I trained you, as I recall. I let you see for yourself what you needed to learn. I listened and stared at you. Your nightly howl at the door I allowed, until your sister was done indulging. I kept you on my watch. Your brother shall toughen you up where he could strike you. You just had to remain silent and give way. I allowed them to steal what you had. I left you in darkness so you studied your mistakes. Yes, I did not know. Now look at you, sweet child. Like your mother, I am proud. I trained you like no other father, understood. What you have learnt must have come from my bottomless well of wisdom. You are a man, see. I am sorry I did not scare you more, threaten you even more. Enjoy it as I do, now that you are a man, o’ mine.

O’ mine, and so I have finally examined. Children of mine, I will love you. The bloody love I bought for free I will pour on you. Before you know how far we all have fallen, I will teach you why. Before you lose it, I will show you the way. I will kiss you just to let you know. I will hold you close, under the sun and the rain. You can ask me questions as you may think I know the answers to everything. You can tell me anything you cannot tell anybody else. I will teach you how to run unlike a boy, my champion. I will guide you with your stories, my princess. I will count each day like it is the last so you know you have me. I will protect you in this battlefield so you can make it through.

Shame on me if I strike you. Pity on me if I neglect you. Stupid of me if I don’t listen to you. Remind this old man, when you need him.

O’ mine, until the end. Children of mine, go away with my wisdom. Tell them of my weaknesses. Tell them enough that you may learn not to. Write down what I have done for you because you may keep it between us. Protect those secrets you have with your own. Sweet children o’ mine, truly I have loved you.

In

I was at his bed side, impatiently waiting for a word from the man.

I was at his bed side. He said, “Proud.”

My lungs welled up. The second stagnated, ransomed for a miraculous healing moment.

The split second. He took my right hand and kissed it.

I was oblivious of response. The second lengthened. When I decided to lean forward to kiss his forehead where his pristine water sourced.

The minutes froze in a crowded silence.

I got on to the four wheels without looking back. If I ever see him again, I would.
And the weir broke.

Two years flowing purely that he is in me. His blood is. His wisdom is. His features are.
Like him, I will still be.

Crash

Red, white, blue
Raging colors against liberated canvas

Reddish apathy
Aroused with anger
Explosion of painted bullets

Misty rendition
Collective narcissism
Colliding pridefully, irresponsibly
Lost in apathetic interests

Oceanic boundaries
Argh …. slipping self-righteousness
Under the sleeves of a uniform
Help me from the fiery clash
Because you need to pull me out!

Out of pity, I say!
Out of compassion and solidarity

Read me, I am speaking, not my skin
Listen to me, I am writing, not my letters
Hold me, I am demanding, not my mother tounge
Respect me, I am lonely, not my traits

Hey
Give up patronizing
Hey
Save the blame
Hey
Beyond the painting is raging colors
Hey
We’re the same, anyway!