Impact.

Impact defined by the cultural
Lines intertwined,
Thunder and lightening,
One without the other
Not so frightening.
Weathering the storm,
The norms and beg to conform
To a life of existence,
Persistence of a few that governs
Gravitational force of what the rest
Of us do.
Whose impact has imprinted?
Your life,
Like a thin razor blade cutting
In the shades of your skin,
Cheek to chin.
Constant reminder
Not those who will seek,
But those who are the finders.
What am I seeking?

Impact. Father, do I need to?
Look any further to the
Heat of his fervor,
My temperature is neither.
I am eager to engulf
All the masses, by passing
My classes, or wearing these glasses,
Is my Father’s impact still intact?

Six years gone and my sight
Is still strong, his fresh death
Has spawn on a new dawn,
Into which I have risen,
Or am I trapped in a prison,
Malicious words of wisdom,
Hurtful wisdom,
And a heart so torn,
That only anger and sadness
From my mouth are born!
Or am I wrong?

See impact is the craziest of thing,
Silly string that is unable to uphold
The scolded marks that it leaves,
Pussing and bleeding,
It’s on the resin of the situation
That I am now feeding.
Father where are you now?

I can’t hear you, see you,
Smell you, tell you, show you,
Or even explain how the mornings
Mist, feels more like rain.

I’ve found it.
My of mask of dread by the bed,
That has fed the
Nightmares of past,
Lives cannot last.
I beg for death sometimes,
Where in the rhythm I get lost,
Forced to persuade to a path,
Words of wisdom,
All the worlds a stage,
Your home is your kingdom.

Saturday baseball, basketball,
Whatever the sport of any sort
You didn’t care you were always
There. Sometimes I cry now, right before
I play, Saturday.
Park, playgrounds, funny sounds,
Tough work, fun always came first.
I miss you more than anything,
I would give up so many things,
Just to hear your voice.
But that’s not my choice.

I look for you in numbers and people,
Trees and birds, random words,
Sidewalk curbs, hoards of people,
Hard pressed to find the time to unwind,
And recline in the fact that I know you’re
Out there, right there.

Still your memory has persisted,
Where others have resisted,
Uttered in the breath,
That is was your death,
That will make me a man.

I became a man before your last day,
A time when you began to wither away,
Half a man once ago,
100 pounds less or so.
Had to carry you to the bathroom,
No room for error,
Stricken with terror,
I never meant to hurt you,
Daddy I never meant to hurt you.

Six months in and out of comas
Bloated gasses, pain in masses,
Lost weight, can’t see straight,
Bed sores, infinite doors,
God I wish I would have done
Something more!!

But I didn’t. Guilt ridden,
Over your death, words that
I have never expressed, suppressed,
To forget to manifest.
Wishes you’ve sought, a battle you fought
And lost. Your life the cost,
Wanting to see the view of the window
That you built,
Short man, big stilts.
House still stands,
The thought of your final plan.
I look each morning for you,
Gazing at the dew, I always somehow knew,
All the things that you love,
As you hover above.
Father. Impact.
And yes it’s still intact and I’ve found my knack.
No razor blades, no inflictions,
Just a simple perfect word of definition.
Impact

© KOTA