Poem Commentary

Written for all three of my "fathers"


Father, how to describe? The way that word makes me feel inside. I have three. I will explain. Two fathers on this worldly plane. One up above. Who I know is true. Not so sure about the other two. I was born a bastard child. To a single mom. She wasn't wild.

She made a mistake. Who does not? So a stepfather for me, my mother sought. He took the deal. He adopted me. Yet he did it begrudgingly. For all the years he was my dad. I loved him dearly as a lad. I love him still, but life is hard. He made some choices and got dealt bad cards. We never speak because of her. The woman he left my mother for. This evil harlot, who controls his every move. We pay for our sins. Then sometimes, we pay again.

Then I met my real dad. Who fathered me. Mom warned me up front but I had to see.

For myself how bad he was. He never calls. He never writes. He is so selfish and dead inside. To give up a child and walk away. To turn your back on your own progeny. What hurt could make someone so small and mean? I hope whoever hurt you dad is dealt with indeed. I pity both of them so much these days. The man who raised me, then walked away. The Father who knows me but turns his back. The men who won't be looking back. Forgive them my real Father for they know not what they do......to themselves.


You sacrificed your son for the entire human race. A noble thing. The purest love ever.

I look now at my six children. Human, yes. But beautiful to me. I will kill, steal , work, and do anything to bring them joy. I will always be available for them day, or night.

For any need. To talk, listen, laugh or cry with. My love for these children cuts to the bone with a ferocity that knows no earthly limits. God like. Ah. I wish so bad that my fathers knew the richness and joy of loving something so selflessly. I sit up nights worrying about them. Will they go far? Who will break their hearts? It shall not be me.

Because I finally realized at some point that all the pain and denial and heartache and loss my fathers put me through had a real definitive purpose. I am a Father now.




Phil G. Inman Sr.


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Poetry is what is lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

philjonesin’s Poems (53)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Lie with you 1
The Mechanic's 2
Don't eat the buffet 2
Carnivorous Carnival 1
Too much L.S.D. 1
Sensual Machinations 2
Gone 1
Poets Elysium 0
Tools, Lessons, Memories and Grace 1
Tonight 2
Time 0
This Time 2
The way you look. 1
The Void 0
The Stars 0
The L.S.D. Adventure 0
The Despot 0
The Demon 0
The City 0
That's just me.......... 0
Tarnished 0
Spoke the Leo to the Capricorn 0
She Said 0
Questions of faith 0
One Thousand 0
My uncle's Cat 0
My Neighbor 0
my best friend 0
Magical World part two 0
Magical World 0
Judgement Day 0
Jack and Jill 0
I'm no "G" 2
It hurts me.... 0
Insanity 0
Humanity's last days.... 0
How? 0
Hatred 1
Glass house 2
For Tammi 0
For Raina.... 0
Facilius Descensus Averno 0
Drive 1
Brother 1
Corridors 0
Rage 0
The Heart 0
Home 0
Father 0
Untitled 1
The Tragedienne 0
I Am 0
Sad Goodbye 0