Poems for Father’s Day

June Celebrates Fathers

Father and Son (free stock image from Wiki Commons)

The day that we honor our fathers rapidly approaches. It’s a perfect opportunity to write poems for Father’s Day.

As practicing poets, we might thing that writing poems for our fathers is easy. That is, we think that until we crack open the laptop, fire up a Word app, then realize we can only think of pablum.

We don’t want to give our fathers bland, tasteless, emotionless words.

Unlike Father’s Day, poems for Mother’s Day flood the world. Unfortunately, most of those poems are line after line of overblown sentiments better suited for greeting cards. Or cutesy little poems trying for loud laughter.

Occasional poems should awaken the mind and tug at the heartstrings.

Avoiding the overblown and the cutesy are the two pitfalls for all Occasional Poems, most especially for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. We need our poems to be real, to be personal, and to be touching.

Father’s Day offers another barrier that we stumble against. We don’t think “sentiment” when we consider writing for our dads.

We should.

Yet tossing in emotion after emotion never works. Both Mom and Dad deserve truth instead of watery pathos.

Reminder

We have three chief reasons to practice our poetic craft with occasional poems for all**.

1] Keep to audience requirements. Who are we writing for? Ourselves? Nyah. It’s the fathers we wish to honor.

2] Keep to the 4 Requirements of Song. Remember those? Powerful Lines. Strong Imagery. Heartfelt Message. Clear Communication.

3] Keep a focus on structure to stand out from the multitude of other poems swimming in the universal current.

(**Occasional Poems for All. That’s a book, isn’t it? Filled with all the trite, complacent pathos we could want. Let’s not fall back on this or on greeting cards.)

How can we achieve truth in our Poems for Father’s Day?

Consider the role that your father plays in your life. Look to the character archetypes to determine which role we want to celebrate. From there, we ask “What does that role require?” Once we know that answer, we find specific images (especially a dominant image) to represent the role.

Two Views of Fathers

Fathers as Protectors

Robert Hayden gives us the sadness of missed opportunities to express to his appreciation to his father for his sacrifices, sacrifices that were unknown and unrecognized by arrogant and selfish youth.

Here is Those Winter Sundays, on Poetry Foundation

Look at the harsh reality of the first stanza: blueblack cold, “cracked hands that ached from labor.” Strong alliterative B’s and the hard K sound of the C’s emphasize those winter Sundays when everyone else is sleeping, everyone else is free from work, and everyone else snuggles just a little deeper under the bedcovers–because someone else will do the hard thing … just as Haydn’s father did.

The second stanza presents the frozen reality of the world–from the weather, from the difficult emotions between father and son as the son challenges that the father wants … because the father sees his world and doesn’t want that world for his son.

The father drove out the cold of the weather … and the world by giving his son the ability to do more than that hard labor that cracked the father’s hands. And his son can go into the world with newly polished good shoes, putting a shiny clean face on his future … because of his father’s “austere and lonely offices”.

We have fourteen lines in this poem–5 in the first stanza, 4 in the center, 5 in the last. A hidebound traditionalist wouldn’t call this poem a sonnet because it breaks the common sonnet structures. Yet what does a sonnet do? It presents an argument, provides evidence, then through a Volta (a turning viewpoint) it reaches a truth.

Haydn argues that his father loves him–even though the house was filled with “chronic angers”. He gives several details as evidence. Then, in the last two lines (where Shakespeare always turned his Volta to achieve his truth) Haydn gives the rhetorical question “What did I know / of love’s austere and lonely offices?”

The question is rhetorical because we know the answer. None of us know about “love’s austere and lonely offices”, not until we have years between event and emotion, years to reflect on what actually occurred, and the wiser understanding of those years to see.

Fathers Teach Lingering Lessons

Li Young Lee, who had an example of a Mother’s Day poem, also presents his father’s love in a rather oblique way, via Lee’s relationship with his wife. Find “The Gift” here on Poetry Foundation.

The poem opens with Lee’s memory: his father draws out a splinter, distracting his son with a story. The second stanza gives us the details of his father’s love: “his voice … a well of / dark water”, his hands “two measures of tenderness / laid against my face”, and “flames of discipline” similar to Haydn’s father with the “chronic angers”.

In the third stanza, Lee moves us from past to present. He invites us into the poem as well as he moves from the literal “planting something in a boy’s palm” to the figurative, for Lee’s father did plant something in his son–the ability to be tender when a necessary hurt must occur. He reinforces this with the repetition of details from the first two stanzas. The “silver tear” is the “well of dark water” as well as the tears on the little boy’s face as he confronts a painful splinter and its withdrawal. The “tiny flame” is the memory of those “flames of discipline”, reduced by time.

Using his father’s technique, he performs the same splinter withdrawal. Then Lee shows us his mark–humor mixed with memory … “Metal that will bury me” and “Little Assassin”, the extremes of childish thought. And he charges the poem with further emotion when he thanks his father with a kiss, doing “what a child does / when he’s given something to keep”.

A memory of his father.

Coming Up

Two more views of fathers, just in time for Father’s Day.

Join us on the 15th.