This ain't one of my
summer sunshine rhymes
sorry fresh out tonight
this is for blue black times
I'm not normally one to
let my inner goth out
but there are times when
she needs to howl and shout
there was a man, a wolf
no, a werewolf was he
he was blackly charming
this wolfman was father to me
he had a curse on him that
he alas to me passed on
or he cursed himself with
his morbid unhallowed passion
death by name, death by trade
my pater was fixated upon
a modern pre-Raphaelite with
an unholy suicidal obsession
So very romantic, innit?
such fine young gentlemen
must have their peccadillo play
all the little punters
those dreamy soul eyed pens
of halcyon times languishing
in rat infested opium dens
in laudanum induced stupor
fantasizing about a red head
who by her own hand made
herself all drowned and dead
isn't it a bitch when your
shiny superheroes show their grime
welcome to my world folks
that's what happened to mine
he was my Ozymandias
despite having feet of clay
we all do of course but
his were the muckiest of clay
by clay I mean earth, dust
eaten up by moth and worm
he dreamt and plotted his death
played his own funereal requiem
a bit like poor Mozart with
death disc played in reverse
funeral for dear old dad
was expected of our Amadeus
at least unlike Wolfie
I didn't have to plan for dad
I don't know if on reflecting
it woulda been any less bad
what the hell is wrong with
these death-eating fathers of ours
bloody consumed with fussing
about arranging their canopic jars
so discussing this is hard and
I'm coming to it roundabout
with all my highfalutin nods
why can't I just spit it out
me dah often detailed his plan
urged me to join suicide pact
his death wish almost destroyed me
his the plan, but mine the act
on top of his threats, the guilt
made worse by well-intentioned
wondering aloud at his motives
my shame increased when questioned
did her jump or was he pushed
did it predate him enshrined in tomb
his constant cake walk with death
might it have begun in the womb?
I'm tempted to cut him slack
cuz that is what I always do (did)
did he have a secret half life
that he kept from me well hid?
Was there some abiding pain
that made him speak fluent self-harm
did my grandparents harm him
and set off his coffin alarm?
but how and when he did shows
endless talk of ending was ruse
to claim exemption without remorse
a weapon to punish and abuse
I was threatened with it when
he wanted an exit or excuse
suicide promises have a way
of shutting down home truths
funny it's never themselves
with whom they plan to do away
vampirically they suck your self
till you've no spark to light your day
But I found my voice recently
and I find I've got a lot to say
to him who terrorized little me
dicing with death to get his way
But the doom has come upon me
the mirror's cracked side to side
taunts of self-death broke me
and the gates of hell opened wide
It's a curse I'm stuck with
this tendency toward self-harm
the loop has come full circle
now it's me sounding the alarm
I hate like hell I'm like this
it's knee-jerk though unwillingly
passing on the devil's contagion
hurting my beloved posterity
sins of the father brain-staining
Mea culpae for my many wrongs
mea maxima culpae two wrongs
don't unwrite death-eater songs
I can't erase what's past but
I can ease our today pain
stop the evil juggernaut and
derail the ceaseless self-hurt train
I have to. I owe it to them.
--with sorrow, contrition and love to the family circle
--and prayers to the Heavenly Father to help me to excise this generational cancer of the soul
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