Saturday, March 19, 2005


Today marks the 12th anniversary of my father's death. It was a very short time between finding out my father was dying from lung cancer to when he finally passed away. I was 19 years old. I had never experienced death before. To deal with the anguish and sorrow, I wrote poems. This is something I wrote in the weeks before he passed. . .

Dying Daddy

Every day Daddy
a little piece of you
disappears into the deep
dark of your lungs,
a vacuum sucking you in-
side yourself, beside yourself
in your studio apartment
ground level in a wheel chair
hooked to an oxygen tank
like you are hooked on
those damn cigarettes
that bleed from your mouth.
After fifty years, they have become
a constant fixture on your face
like your nose or your blind eyes.
Dangling there, as your life does now
waiting for the last breath,
the final puff,
when you finally put yourself
out- like a cigarette-
the bud of yourself

(March, 1993)


hummingbird said...

Heavy stuff, my dear... especially because I just found out my mom has skin cancer a few days ago. We're not sure how bad it is yet... not till she gets the biopsy results. I can't imagine losing a parent at 19, though. You are such a trooper. To go through everything you've been through and come out so far on top like you have. You are a star!! Thanks for sharing your poem.

PS Next time you flash everybody on the street, charge admission. You'll be able to quit your job. Hey, by the way, did you know that my name's Irish too? Hee hee :)

Anonymous said...

absolutely beautiful.
Maya couldn't have said it better.
the poem reminds me of a sad time.
the picture and memories of you and your dad make me smile and remind me of a happy time. I'm grateful we had that. It was more than most but never enough.

Sizzle said...

thanks to you both. :)