Friday, October 14, 2005

Poem of the Day: Sinecure

Another poem for the word of the day, sinecure, at Poem of the Day:

Oh My Child

These are not my words I speak but those
Of my father or of my mother.
Where are my words?
I am sorry, I swore I would not do this. But
I look down and these are not my hands but hands
made of my father's and of my mother's hands.
Where are my hands?
I know what you are thinking. The same thoughts
I thought when I was young, and your
Father had those same thoughts about his parents.
Whose sighs are these?
And these are not our sighs but sighs we have both
Heard before. There is no sinecure for parenting
Or childhood.

6 Comments:

Blogger zhoen said...

How do you mean sinecure in this? I'm afraid I am missing a core bit of meaning, and I would like to understand.

10/15/2005 5:42 AM  
Blogger MB said...

A place or position or state of being free of responsibilities for actions or behaviors, free of the work of changing them or choosing them responsibly, free of worries about them, a point of escape or easiness.... in the context of the conflict parent and child each face in creating their own new selves and choices, moment by moment, while having been shaped and determined to some extent by genetics & history.

Something like that.

10/15/2005 10:11 AM  
Blogger Patry Francis said...

Most profound. Just wandered here for the first time, and already, I've found a bluebird.

10/15/2005 10:24 AM  
Blogger zhoen said...

Yes, I see now.

thank you.

10/15/2005 2:30 PM  
Blogger MB said...

Patry, I'm thrilled you stopped by! I just discovered your waitress poems yesterday, a real delight.

10/15/2005 10:19 PM  
Anonymous Alexandro said...

Patry... I've never see a bluebird ...I guees it most be a beatyfull bird...My father used to talk alot of those, Its my duty to find one and see it...I just dont know where ...

2/02/2008 1:15 PM  

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