a poem for my father….

on November 4, 2011 in poetry, rhyme, things that have fallen out of barbie's mind.... with 8 comments by

Lessons Unfinished

I’m hitching a ride on a piece of a dream
with the strength of the tail of a kite.
I’m wondering why I fall asleep to my screams
and who gave the Big Apple a bite.

I crawl from one question to the next in the line
a convoy of unanswered thoughts.
Who teaches the teachers? Why do socks run away?
Why does everything end with a loss?

And my old man’s job was unfinished
when he went off to party with Pearl.
Does he know that I just wasn’t ready?
I guess I am still daddy’s girl.

I put the questions aside in the corner,
like garbage that needs to go out,
and I hope that someone will read this
and know what I’m talking about.

So I’ll try to move on and I’ll write a new song
that will take me away from myself.
But I still sometimes think
we should’ve had one last drink.
I’d have toasted him….
“Here’s to your health.”

written for Frank Dockstader.

october 8th, 1949 – november 5th, 2001.

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8 comments

  1. posted on Nov 04, 2011 at 8:41 AM  |  

    A beautiful poem & a beautiful tribute. People who read this will know what you’re talking about.

    • Barbie Angell
      posted on Nov 04, 2011 at 6:29 PM  |  

      thank you. : ) my father was a rather unusual man. i’ve always thought he would’ve love this piece.

  2. posted on Nov 08, 2011 at 2:00 AM  |  

    Thank you for sharing nice information, I wish you success

    • Barbie Angell
      posted on Nov 10, 2011 at 4:08 PM  |  

      thank you. : )

  3. posted on Nov 22, 2011 at 11:35 AM  |  

    Very nice. I’m always amazed at your talent with poetry.

    • Barbie Angell
      posted on Nov 22, 2011 at 11:44 AM  |  

      thank you so much shannon. : ) that’s lovely of you to say.

  4. posted on Nov 28, 2011 at 7:43 AM  |  

    We always have questions, don’t we? A very nice poem for your dad.

    • Barbie Angell
      posted on Nov 28, 2011 at 12:31 PM  |  

      so true, so very true. : ) i missed saying good-bye to my father by less than 5 minutes. now, ten years later, i think even if i had seen him one last time i’d still feel like i missed doing or saying something to him. it’s always unfinished and leaves us wanting more. thank you, i’m so glad you liked it.

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