My Papa once explained to me the genius of Poe’s poetry
In making language lyrical that was much inert;
Some tongues like French and Russian flow;
But English breaks upon the teeth
Unless we pull chords deep
Beneath; deep beneath
The surface
Struggling (mired in A,B,C), remembering he who sired me;
Limited to words, my own, chop\py though they be;
These fingers English keyboards know,
Grasp flailingly at fleeting dreams
Although it’s then I truly
See; truly see him
Seeing me
With talk he wouldnโt be impressed; Iโd rather offer something else –
Reality itself undressed; bereft, I’ve naught but language left,
Now feeling I have naught to show…
Here’s peddling clever stanzas cheap
While Papa lies there deep
Beneath; deep beneath
The surface
The Skeptic's Kaddish ๐ฎ๐ฑ 
Very clever! And thanks for liking one of my recent poems too!
๐ ๐ Umer ๐ ๐
The poemโs form is interesting, I really like it. Is it a traditional form or one you created?
Thank you! No ~ this is not a particular form of poetry that I found anywhere… it’s simply what came to my mind, as I was writing this piece.
Sincerely,
David
Nice!
Thank You For Sharing The Divinity In you. Heart achingly Beautiful. I particularly like the concept of English being a…choppy language? and of pulling the chord deep beneath the surface to create poetry with it, and how by relating your fathers position in the deep, he becomes a pulled chord; a part of the music you have made in the languages rhythms he taught you to appreciate. But then again, Interpretation of the reader right? And Thank you for being one of the first to welcome me to WordPress.
๐ Annabelle ๐ ~ thanks so much for your kind, thoughtful words. If you’re hoping to learn a bit about how to navigate WP, I wrote a few posts to help with that here –
And I’m always happy to help out if I can.
Sincerely,
David
My deepest gratitude for the guidance! I am actually in the process of stumbling through the wordpress machine so that will be quite helpful- or at least I Hope. Though reading from your work I am sure it would be my own fault not yours If I dont learn anything. Please keep sharing your work, I certainly do not agree with Chinaski thinking there are too many poets in this world.
๐ Thanks! And good luck.
I feel like I get that. Buddhism is all about language for me, the words used convey the meaning, so they must be perfect, for you to understand how perfect the language is.
Language is our access, right? To everything we didnโt know.
yes. absolutely! Thank you for the astute, empathetic comment ๐
Actually, I collected some quotes on language that spoke to me and posted them here –
https://skepticskaddish.com/2021/08/20/to-possess-a-second-soul/
and here –
https://skepticskaddish.com/2021/08/21/a-special-kind-of-beauty-exists/
All best,
David
Language is a window into human nature, but it is also a fistula, an open wound through which weโre exposed to an infectious world.
โSteven Pinker (b. 1954)
Wow! Thank you for sharing those. In the interest of reciprocity, I think you’ll understand my short story more than most.
https://alexanderearthandsoul.wordpress.com/2021/10/27/the-earth-om-soul-tree/
So sorry for your loss. I’ve written quite a bit about the loss of both my parents, and it is never easy.
It’s odd, right? On the one hand, it’s never easy… on the other hand, it seems to make the grieving process itself easier…
I feel driven to do it, so I just give in to my needs, and that seems to make me feel better…
โค
David
Writing your grief away is valuable; I’ve done it several times. The ache never goes away, but it does lessen over time. Anniversaries are difficult, though. I don’t know why they should be; they just are.
Yeah – it’s so weird! I was talking to a friend of mine about death anniversaries and how it doesn’t make sense that they’re harder than any other day of the year… but they are. It’s almost like I feel more of an obligation on that day to think about my father…
โค
David
This brought me to tears Ben and it is so beautifully expressive. I think it is a poets duty almost to write to a certain degree about their grief. What father would not be touched to their very core with this poem that encompasses such love for him. These lines are particularly moving to me:
“Some tongues like French and Russian flow;
But English breaks upon the teeth
Unless we pull chords deep
Beneath; deep beneath
The surface”
Only a wonderful son could write such a beautiful piece of poetry about his love for his father. So beautiful Ben. Sending love. xoxoxo
Crazy you mention Poe’s writing. I looked him up this morning because I read an argument that proposed Poe’s work taught in schools. Your poem just answered why he should be taught in high school ๐
I felt these words in my soul. What a beautiful tribute. โค
Thank you for sharing a most enlightening and inspiring post. I recognized that “ben” meant “son of,” but I was not familiar with “kaddish” or some of the other references. I also wanted to thank you for the “like” you posted on my blog. As a fellow poet, I thought you might also appreciate this entry re-posted yesterday on my father’s birthday Here is the link:
https://drlej.wordpress.com/2017/12/02/remembering-my-father-on-his-birthday/
Shalom from “ben Lonnie”