This Man Who Is Not My Father Is My Father Poem by Dónall Dempsey

This Man Who Is Not My Father Is My Father

Rating: 5.0


This man
who is not

my father

is

my
father.

The other’s laugh:

“It’s not your turn but
he calls only for you! ”

And so I go
& clean him up

his skeleton thin body
splashed with urine & sh**.

I laugh & joke
with him.

He chuckles
as I tell him:

“Michael...you used to be
so full of crap
but sh**...now you’re not! ”

Lucky
our Irish sense of humour

extends this far

say anything with love and
it becomes so.

It is a tired old joke
but like a child he

pounces on its nuances
relishing each pause and stupid syllable!

I bathe
him

this man
who is not my father

gently as if he were

my child.

I sing
to him
all the old songs

I learned
at my father’s hands

as he bathed me.

“...why does my poor heart keep following you...”

We sing together
softly as I bathe him

dress him
anew

in the memory
of my father.

This man
who is not

my father

becomes
my father

as my hands learn
to care for him.

I settle
a pillow

behind
his head

wipe sweat
from his forehead

stroke
his hair

until his sleep
is full

of dreams

...dreams.

*******

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Joseph Daly 17 May 2008

I love this Dónall, you have measured this out well. Not just the manner in which you have laid the poem out but also when to draw back from over sentimentalising this (as many others would have done) . This has a harshness and pathos to it. I cannot understand why you censored yourself, unless I am misreading that part and that it is rather intricate to the narrative (the protagonist would not use bad language to his father, perhaps?) . All in all one of the best poems I have read on this site in a long while.

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Dee Dee Wright 17 May 2008

Tender funny amusing sad all the one and same time...I love the way your mind can hold all these things in such perfect balance and blend them into such a wonderful story of love and human compassion. I too have worked in homes and in mental health and it can be a cruel uncaring world sometimes brutally. For every one of you there are many others who don't have your love. I wouldn't like to grow old or be put in a home...there might not always be a you around. love Dee Dee

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Dónall Dempsey

Dónall Dempsey

Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.
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