AuthorsDen.com   Join | Login    
Where Authors and Readers come together!

SIGNED BOOKS    AUTHORS    BOOKS    SAMPLE CHAPTERS    AUDIOBOOKS    eBOOKS    STORIES    ARTICLES    POETRY    BLOGS    NEWS    VIDEOS    SUCCESS    TESTIMONIALS

Featured Authors:  Alexander Shaumyan, iJoy Pedersen, iRobert Liu, iStephen Murray, iJames Harvey, iEmily Karlewicz, iCynth'ya Reed, iDean Cambourakis, i RickthePoetWarrior, iMORGAN ST. JAMES, i

  Home > Poetry > Poetry        Popular: Books, Stories, Articles, Poetry        Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z     

Mark Sebring

 Follow Me  

· Contact Me
· Articles
· Poetry
· Stories
· Blog
· 128 Titles
· 140 Reviews
· Save to My Library
· Share with Friends!
·
Member Since: Aug, 2009

Mark Sebring, click here to update your pages on AuthorsDen!



My Dad
by Mark Sebring → (All Poetry by Mark Sebring)
Tuesday, October 9, 2018    Rated "G" by the Author.
Share   Print  Save   Follow   Share on Facebook


Poem Artwork

 
 
My dad, he works in an office.
My dad, he wears a suit and tie
and carries a briefcase.
He must be a very important man.
He often comes home late at night
after we've finished our dinner.
And sometimes he works on weekends.
And sometimes I wonder if he really likes
being with us.
And sometimes in the middle of the night
I see him in the living room
sitting in the dark with a drink in his hand.
Killing himself slowly.
Killing himself slowly.
I don't want to be like my dad.
 
My dad, he rarely comes to my baseball games.
My dad, he says he just can't get away.
I used to think he didn't want to come.
That was before I knew about the layoffs.
Every once in a while the bigwigs at the company
are afraid they're not making enough money,
so they lay off some of the people there -
the ones who are really doing the work.
They do this every few months or so.
Some of his best friends are looking for work.
And I see him in the living room late at night
sitting in the dark with a drink in his hand.
Killing himself slowly.
Killing himself slowly.
No, I don't want to be like my dad.
 
My dad, he hasn't been himself these days.
My dad, he's been worrying a lot.
They had another layoff at the company today
and this time they let my dad go.
I guess he wasn't working hard enough.
I guess he came to too many of my baseball games.
He says he doesn't know what he's going to do.
Jobs are pretty hard to come by these days,
especially jobs that pay the kind of money
that he was making.
And he's not sure where the money is
going to come from,
the money we need for our house and stuff.
And tonight I'll see him in the living room
sitting in the dark with a drink in his hand.
Killing himself slowly.
Killing himself slowly.
I sure don't want to be like my dad.
 

Mark Sebring (2007)



 


Want to review or comment on this poem?


Need a FREE Reader Membership?


 Reviews of "My Dad"
Reviewed by Mark Sebring
Reviewed on December 12, 2020
I wrote this poem in response to Harry Chapin's "Cat's In The Cradle"
and other stories about fathers who don't have much time for their families.
It explains that many fathers are like that, not by choice, but because
their employers expect it of them in a time when jobs are difficult to find.


There are some here who seem to assume that anything written in the first person
must be autobiographical. That's not such a good idea with me. I am a storyteller.
I love to write short story songs and poems from a first person perspective.
Most of these stories have a message. But a few of them are just for fun.

In some of the stories I have posted here I've been:
A man who runs away from his life and his family, but then turns around and goes home. (Driving West)
A man who has an affair with a promiscuous woman who's name he finds on a bathroom wall. (Angel 69 / Mid-Life Crisis)
A boy neglected by a father who spends all of his time working. (My Dad)
An alcoholic who's wife has left him for another man. (Alone At The Party)
A man praying to a god he doesn't believe in, who killed his wife and her lover and is planning to kill himself. (My Magic Bullet)
King Arthur lamenting about Guinevere's relationship with Lancelot. (Another Cockroach)
A homosexual who suffers at the hands of religious fanatics. (The Dark Ages)
A cowboy who is killed in a gunfight. (Tombstone)

Of course, some of my short story songs and poems are written in the third person.
"Mr. Lonely" and "Elmer Wigby" are good examples.
And some, like "Dixie Flyer", "Blue Moon Sort Of Night", and "Summer Nights",
are partially autobiographical.
Sometimes I write stories about things I am tempted to do, so I can study them
and learn a lesson, without actually having done them.
"Driving West" and "Angel 69 / Mid-Life Crisis" are examples.

Some of the things I write are autobiographical. Others are pure fiction. Many are a mixture of the two.
Throughout this website, I've deliberately made it unclear which parts are autobiographical and which
are fiction. But, by using this mixture of autobiography and fiction, I believe I've told the story of my life.

All these stories I have written. The story of my life that I have told here.
The reason they're a mixture of autobiography and fiction is they are not just about me.
They are about all of the people like me. Thousands of people who are lonely like I am.
The mass of men who lead lives of quiet desperation. I am just one example.
It was never about making the details of my own life public.
The point was to write things that others could identify with.



A friend of mine wrote this song for her father:

No Man's Land

I was raised by a fireman so I know all about accelerants
and how to keep things contained.
He went crazy in Viet Nam. He raised me on war stories.
And watching him, I learned how to kill a man.

Oh Daddy dear, you didn't ever sleep.
And it took me years to see you were always nightmarin', oh.
Even in your dreams with the shake, shake, shake of your hands.
You were always dancin' through a no man's land.

You have lived through many things that would kill me,
and you're the one who taught me how to stay alive.
And you have to know I have listened because I have lived this long, oh.
Sometimes you've gotta die a little so you can survive.
Sometimes you have to kill the things that eat you alive.

Oh Daddy dear, you didn't ever sleep.
And it took me years to see you were always nightmarin', oh.
Even in your dreams with the shake, shake, shake of your hands.
You were always dancin' through a no man's land.
You were always dancin' through a no man's land.

And I have always been real strong and can carry such heavy things,
and I think that I must get that from you.
But watchin' you fumble with a shovel that's diggin' your grave,
I'm afraid that strength might be a curse when it starts to fade.
What if strength becomes my burden Dad, one of these days?

And oh Daddy dear, you didn't ever sleep.
And it took me years to see you were always nightmarin', oh.
Even in your dreams with the shake, shake, shake of your hands.
You were always dancin' through a no man's land.
You were always dancin' through a no man's land.
You were always dancin' through a no man's land.
You were always dancin' through a no man's land!

I was raised by a fireman so I know all about accelerants
and how to keep things contained.

Cass Brostad (From the Madisons album "No Man's Land", 2017)


New Poetry by Mark Sebring
Popular Poetry (Poetry)
  1.  Catching Happiness...
  2.  Finding Trust Again
  3.  Nightsky
  4.  Reality of Another Kind
  5.  Spindrift
  6.  Kindness
  7.  Our Restless Minds
  8.  Luxury of Solitude
  9.  In The Still of The Night
  10.  Dream Just a Dream
  11.  Life's Enormous Green Chest
  12.  Sediment Within the Soul
  13.  Roadkill Memoriam
  14.  Hunting for Truth
  15.  Whisper Pens
  16.  In Praise of Anonymity
  17.  I Have Spent My Entire Life
  18.  Shaved Reflections
  19.  Feeling Lonely
  20.  Serrated Smiles
Free Book Review Program
Select a book to read and review today!

Poetry Pages: A Collection of Voices From Around the World Volume II by Erin Kelly-Moen

A people’s heart can be found in their poetic words. In history men and women have stood firmly upon their soapboxes and street corners, rallying the deepest beliefs of people to rise up and be heard. The poetrypages.com has offered that voice a new  
Member BookAds

In the Whirlwind by Tichaona Chinyelu

In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!  
Member BookAds