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No Longer There

Kenneth, loves satire and writings to spotlight others, but he also has an "addiction" so to speak, to dramatic and abstract/prose poetry.

Picasso's Harlequin Head

Picasso's Harlequin Head

When I stood, he stood. When I couldn't, he could
At dad's side day, night, tears, pain like an idol of wood.
Always there. He always cared. To hurt me, no one dared
His name was not known and his social stance alone.

Working. Just working. Listening to stories long
A mild laugh, a gentle tap and baby Liza's fever gone.
He plowed, picked and shucked the corn so dry
When dad couldn't pay, he walked from a cry.

Hunger, cold, and damp bed he had
Working like animal strength tiring the boastful lads.
Winking at mom her secret time
Practicing her speech that appeared as mime.

One day our dad was young, strong and able
He appeared holding a ewe and lifting up gable.
Living in hay never resting from his days
His face was laughter his hair was brownish haze.

Amy loved him like our uncle Jim
To see them together, you'd swear he was Jim.
He ate little at holidays rare
Chuckled at little brother's foolish, foolish dare.

A nip tonight a sting of tongue so dry
A dream of love only feeling her cry.
He walked away when love was near
To work for dad so we could be here.

Sun goes down on "his" obscure frame
Faded shirt layers of dirt and no kingly name.
His feet sore from inside his door
One dream was peace but not anymore.

One morning of a thousand mornings I walked
Down same rotting steps when I saw, I balked.
Dad was there, so was mom, baby Liza at play
Amy crying through fearful night into terror'd day.

He was not there. Not there to be seen
Not in his loft. Not behind his screen.
Not a yell could raise his voice
Just a pounding heart and lots of noise.

Why had he left? Where was he going?
Just questions. Just queries of someone knowing.
We had taken him for granted such a fool's sin
Dad's best pal, a silent friend among men.

Dad led us in a mourner's prayer
Little brother's mischief still no dare.
We stood in circle round and round
Grieving his absence silently cursing the ground.

His signets: average and obscure to such degree that hardly no one knew his name

His signets: average and obscure to such degree that hardly no one knew his name

© 2016 Kenneth Avery


Kenneth Avery (author) from Hamilton, Alabama on April 24, 2017:


Thank you sincerely for your great, warm, and sincere comments.

I really appreciate you, my dear friend.

You and all of my wonderful followers are truly external

inspirations to me.

Keep in touch.

Kenneth Avery (author) from Hamilton, Alabama on April 24, 2017:

Aloha, Yoleen!

Father's Day gift is a great idea.

You are a great dude.


Yoleen Lucas from Big Island of Hawaii on April 24, 2017:

This would make a great Father's Day gift!

Kenneth Avery on September 02, 2016:

Dear teaches12345,

Thank you, dear friend, for your sweet comment. I am so glad that something I was a small part of, made someone happy. And that "someone," being you.

Happy Labor Day to you and yours.

And write me anytime.

Dianna Mendez on September 01, 2016:

My dad loved us but he demonstrated it with quiet attention. Your poem reminded me of him so much. You have written this with a full heart.

Kenneth Avery on August 26, 2016:

Hi, jgshorebird,

"Many thanks to you for your very nice comment. Sincerely.

Fact is, and this coincides with whonunuwho's comment, this was

mostly based on my dad and his always-constant buddies who were

not in his life due to fame or fortune, but they loved him and were

always around in one way or another.

I viewed them at a young age and was amazed by their respect and love for my dad. I am still enjoying those memories today."

"Be sure to come back often and write me anytime."

jgshorebird on August 26, 2016:

Good stuff. I was able to get the cadence of it and the gist.

Kenneth Avery on August 24, 2016:

Hey, whonunuwho,

Your comment has to be, THE most-touching comment EVER. Thanks so much. I just put myself in the shoes of those guys and girls too, who sign on as hired hands, but over the years, they are the family members but never told this by their employers. A very sad feeling.

If I were very wealthy and I had someone as my assistant, what a birthday, anniversary and Christmas he or she would have along with their spouses and kids.

There I go boasting again. Sorry.

Please come back often and write me anytime.

whonunuwho from United States on August 24, 2016:

Kenneth you have drawn a parallel to my own father. He was much like the man you described. This was so emotional and written from the heart. Well done my friend. whonu

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