When I was a boy of my Fathers eye,
Many strands and grey ago,
He walked the world with a softer step,
A softer step with me in tow.
This is how we did wander,
And wander we did go.
When I was a lad of my Fathers hands,
Many yesterdays and seasons come,
I learned his words and wisdom,
Forgetting them as I did go.
How I still wander forgetful,
Forgetting as I go.
When I was a man of more a lad,
With all my Fathers worry and woe,
I learnt life can be unforgiving,
Unforgiving from the seeds I did sow
And how I have been reaping,
Reaping as I go.
Now I am a man that has fell and fallen from my Fathers tree and apples eye,
I see the lessons he was teaching, teaching through clearest sky.
I wish I listened harder, pin pricked and ears true,
How I would be able to wander wiser, wander wiser a man I would go,
And how my seeds would be softer,
Would be softer my seeds to sow.
Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.
Beautiful poetry. I love this!
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Thank you very much!
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😔 made me miss my father a lot, yesterday it was six years since he was taken. Thank you for sharing a stirring piece. Your father would/ should be proud…
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I am sorry for your loss and moved by your comment. Thank you
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Love the rhythm of this piece – great insight also.
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Thank you very much
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This is really beautiful. I love the story you told. I makes me think of my parents lessons that I have forgotten, then had to learn on my own.
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I am glad you liked it and I really appreciate the continued support of my work
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I can’t remember my father’s words but I can dance to this rhythm in hopes that I meet him when I fall into a trance. This is beautiful.
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Thanks man! really appreciate that.
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Beautifully done!!
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Thank you very much mate
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Beautiful poem
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Thank you very much
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Very nice piece with a classic feel to it, could see this in the ‘nation’s favourites’ poetry collection, wink !
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Cheers Nigel, yes this one will be put to use I think x
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Sorry not sure why I put an x then mate, just been texting the missus. Ha, sorry mate
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Interpreted it as ‘fingers crossed’ anyway ! I was thinking about your work the other day after the articles I did on ‘Punk poetry’ and ‘northern style’ poetry and it does remind me of the Mersey poets of the 60’s (fitting I know) and certainly lends itself to performance poetry. I know it isn’t your thing, mine neither but you could always check out that scene, chat maybe someone will read them for you. Just another way of spreading the noise.
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Yeah that is definitely an avenue to look down, hadn’t actually thought of that.
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Especially the earlier dark pieces, they read like a run away train, perfect for the modern punk poetry scene (no safety pins/mohicans, more like the 60’s beat scene in u.s. Ginsberg et al)
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I am going to have a look online and see what is local to me, so I take it I would just contact them and say got some stuff want to read it kind of thing?
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Pop along, show em, they’ll get it I’m sure.
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That was just an idea mate, it sounded like an arsey ‘what you wanna do….’ when I re-read, no teach/preach intended.
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Not at all my mate, honestly I think it’s a cracking idea. Truth is I haven’t thought past much further than publishers etc. I am having a sit down next Saturday and selecting my personal favourites to send off for their consideration. If that fails then I will go the self publishing route like amazon etc.
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That was some good poetry there…..loved it
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Thank you very much!
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This is incredibly revealing and paints a story of self reflection and willingness to re-evaluate where you are. I love it. Well written!
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Thank you very much, I appreciate that.
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