Clarity, or: Convergence

A haibun

My Papa died over four years ago; and I wrote a very public series of blog posts on The Times of Israel during my traditional year-long recitation of the “Mourner’s Kaddish” in his honor, as is noted on Papa’s Wikipedia page.

The Skeptic’s Kaddish blog, which you are now visiting, was born of that experience; I’ve written a number of poems about Papa here. That said, my writing of the last three years has mostly not been been about Papa… though the banner at the top remains a photograph of him from one year before his death.

Honestly, Papa wouldn’t have felt comfortable with anything I’ve written in relation to him, nor with his photograph resting atop my blog. He was extremely private and humble.

As time has unfurled, I have been writing less and less about Papa; I am certain he would have been pleased with my shift away from him.

cloudless skies
crisp keyboard strokes clack
convergence

d’Verse poetics: Dia De Los Muertos

At d’Verse, writers were encouraged to write poems to commemorate loved ones we have lost; the above haibun was written in response.


Let’s write poetry together!

When it comes to partnership, some humans can make their lives alone – it’s possible. But creatively, it’s more like painting: you can’t just use the same colours in every painting. It’s just not an option. You can’t take the same photograph every time and live with art forms with no differences.

Ben Harper (b. 1969)

Would you like to create poetry with me and have a completed poem of yours featured here at the Skeptic’s Kaddish? I am very excited to have launched the ‘Poetry Partners’ initiative and am looking forward to meeting and creating with you… Check it out!

53 thoughts on “Clarity, or: Convergence”

  1. Such a fine line to walk – to assess, mourn, celebrate the gifts, of the past – those who impacted our lives, who are, themselves, very private, humble or and/or fearful of any form of expressed in public, sentiment – is rather my ‘I wish to write and share the gifts, the challenges, the Why my experience with THIS personage is a time/place in my life and memories I STILL draw upon, learn & grow from” struggle when I remember ‘Would they be okay with or mad as heck, that I wrote about them? Have I shielded their privacy enough that only a few would even have a clue as to GUESS at ‘who I’m writing about’ AND – if they feel as if I exposed them, but I cannot see where/how except to folks they are already known to – why do they not understand gifts they shared with others, who, through loyalty, duty, and/or love, say, “um, yup, that’s them! Ya just gotta love them! They suck at [this] but man a live! You sure want them/their knowledge/wisdom/experience on your side, and available, whenever you are in need of it!!!

    Sigh – I, too, struggle with ‘freedom to write, laud, assess, grow through hard times in me own life’ all in a way I always hope, without permission granted or sometimes ‘asked for’ I thread the needle narrowly, best as I can, for all REAL folks involved in that moment, portion, of my life story – โค

  2. Gone but not forgotten is our truth. While he may have been uncomfortable with the recognition, he would most assuredly have been proud of you.

  3. Your Papa would be proud and happy to know that your heart has healed enough that the feelings now live inside. With that said, I love your stories about your Papa Davidโฃ๏ธ

  4. Your writings may have moved away from him, but he lives on in you and everything you do. You make him proud, David.
    Love the haiku. โค๏ธ๐Ÿค—

  5. I have always thought it was the most beautiful tribute, honouring your father with your blog. There are many who could/would not be able to do so. Writing is a steady friend in the journey of healing.

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