Contemplating My Son's First Day of School

[Todd]

I hear his roar.
He is Where the Wild Things Are,
Where the Sidewalk Ends,
He Is Go, Dog. Go!
On a plane, in a train,
in the rain, drenched
in enough humming energy,
to reignite a dying sun.

I hear my son roar.
He is a dinosaur, a race car, a dragon even
I don't know what he is, or will be.
Soon, I will no longer even be
the camel he rides
to a faraway desert.

That first roar came from blue lips,
with an old man's face,
and an equal weariness;
suffering smoothing into sub dermal promise.
I had clacked the abacus,
done all the equations of cliched fathers
for fingers, for toes, for herd placement.
Must it always be tooth on tooth
in the language of blood?
We think we are kinder now,
as does every generation:
kind like the razor,
like hunger.

My son roars.
He is Where the Wild Things Are,
Where the Sidewalk Ends,
He Is Go, Dog. Go!
On a plane, in a train, in the rain.
He is dinosaur, race car, dragon.
While I am the camel he rides
past saguaro and scrub
across this vast emptiness.

[Leanne]

Lovely stuff, Todd, I will come back with some critique a bit later.

[Keith]

Very much enjoyed this and the reference to some great books, I enjoyed its whistfull nature and mood changes and your images of glances back to birth. Thanks Keith

I hear his roar.
He is Where the Wild Things Are,
Where the Sidewalk Ends,
He Is Go, Dog. Go!
On a plane, in a train,
in the rain, drenched
in enough humming energy,
to reignite a dying sun.great line and opening stanza

I hear my son roar.
He is a dinosaur, a race car, a dragon even
I don't know what he is, or will be.
Soon, I will no longer even be
the camel he rides
to a faraway desert. the sense of regret changes the mood, subtle
That first roar came from blue lips,
with an old man's face,
and an equal weariness;
suffering smoothing into sub dermal promise.
I had clacked the abacus,
done all the equations of cliched fathers do you need this line?
for fingers, for toes, for herd placement.
Must it always be tooth on tooth
in the language of blood?
We think we are kinder now,
as does every generation:
kind like the razor,
like hunger. Make me think, neat lines

My son roars.
He is Where the Wild Things Are,
Where the Sidewalk Ends,
He Is Go, Dog. Go!
On a plane, in a train, in the rain.
He is dinosaur, race car, dragon.
While I am the camel he rides
past saguaro and scrub
across this vast emptiness. not sure about this line, it feels cold would have prefered something about your son to keep it personal

[ellz483]

Your references to children's literature is quite moving. I remember reading those books and letting them shape my mind. As someone who is not a parent, this poem lends itself to me as a look inside the psyche of my own parents. I love the scene you paint in which your son can play so innocently and unburdened by the weight of responsibility, whereas you take the brunt of worrying about his future and the society he'll grow up in.
"We think we are kinder now/ as does every generation:/ kind like the razor,/ like hunger."
I think those were very provocative lines! The idea of every wave of new people hoping to be better than their forefathers but ultimately finding themselves presented with the same problems is a bitter truth. You phrased it elegantly and with style. A good read overall!

[billy]

i really like this one Todd. the latter part of the third stanza felt a little apart from the rest of poem though it was well written.

all in all a good read. with few nits.

I hear his roar.
He is Where the Wild Things Are,
Where the Sidewalk Ends,
He Is Go, Dog. Go!
On a plane, in a train,
in the rain, drenched
in enough humming energy,
to reignite a dying sun. a nice picture of boyish antics.

I hear my son roar. for me, son and sun are to sonic to be so close, how about another word for son?
He is a dinosaur, a race car, a dragon even
I don't know what he is, or will be.
Soon, I will no longer even be
the camel he rides
to a faraway desert. this works on nore than the one level, you'll be too old, he'll be too big, the child in him will move on. great stanza.

That first roar came from blue lips,
with an old man's face,
and an equal weariness;
suffering smoothing into sub dermal promise. feels a bit cold
I had clacked the abacus,
done all the equations of cliched fathers
for fingers, for toes, for herd placement.
Must it always be tooth on tooth
in the language of blood?
We think we are kinder now,
as does every generation:
kind like the razor,
like hunger. while i like the stanza, the last six lines depart in style from the previous ones .

My son roars.
He is Where the Wild Things Are,
Where the Sidewalk Ends,
He Is Go, Dog. Go!
On a plane, in a train, in the rain.
He is dinosaur, race car, dragon.
While I am the camel he rides
past saguaro and scrub
across this vast emptiness. there;s a sadness in this last stanza, that the first stanza never had. it closes the poem off nicely.

[tectak]

I hear his roar.
He is Where the Wild Things Are,
Where the Sidewalk Ends,
He Is Go, Dog. Go!
On a plane, in a train,
in the rain, drenched
in enough humming energy,
to reignite a dying sun.

I hear my son roar.
He is a dinosaur, a race car, a dragon even
I don't know what he is, or will be.
Soon, I will no longer even be
the camel he rides
to a faraway desert.

That first roar came from blue lips,
with an old man's face,
and an equal weariness;
suffering smoothing into sub dermal promise.
I had clacked the abacus,
done all the equations of cliched fathers
for fingers, for toes, for herd placement.
Must it always be tooth on tooth
in the language of blood?
We think we are kinder now,
as does every generation:
kind like the razor,
like hunger.

My son roars.
He is Where the Wild Things Are,
Where the Sidewalk Ends,
He Is Go, Dog. Go!
On a plane, in a train, in the rain.
He is dinosaur, race car, dragon.
While I am the camel he rides
past saguaro and scrub
across this vast emptiness.

Quite stunning, todd. I only wish I had read this before I was duty bound to read Pirsig's Zen.
For the changing relationship between father snd son, this knocks Persig's dynamics into oblivion. The beauty and the tragedy of the expressed sentimentality ( sentiment always combines the two) is very finely balanced, unique yet commonplace, and totally familiar.
Well done indeed.
Oh....and I enjoyed it.
Best,
tectak

[Leanne]

Yeah... I thought I'd give you a proper critique but I find I can't really. I appreciated every pun, every piece of intertext and -- very strangely for me -- every sentiment. The sonics are excellent throughout, with lots of internal rhyme and subtle alliteration. The only suggestion I have is that you could remove "with" from the start of S2 L2. Sorry.

[justcloudy]

Hi Todd,

I had to read this a few times to let it soak in. It's a beautiful portrait, I can just see him playing on the living room floor, asking daddy to read Go, Dog. Go! "just one more time!"

I might work on the end though. The image doesn't work for me... the father doesn't know what his son is or will be, yet the son is riding him as camel through the desert (life, the world, I assume). I get it, but it doesn't round it off as well as it could. Maybe since it's about the son's first day of school, a school bus becomes the camel? The horrible reality of letting his son go out into the desert alone hits him?
Just a thought.

Lovely read, thanks much.

[Todd]

Hi Keith,

I appreciate the comments. I'll consider cutting the line you mention. I wanted to pan out at the end to the outside world. I'll give some thought to staying with the personal though.

Thank you,

Todd

---

Thanks eliz, I appreciate your words and how you engaged with this. One of the themes I see myself dealing with now that I am a parent is how limited any of us are in our ability to protect from what we know is coming. Also, the comforting fiction that everything has gotten better. Thanks for taking the time with this.

---

Billy, I appreciate your comments especially your read on S2. I know what you mean on the coldness. It is deliberate. I'll just have to review how effective it is. Thank you again.

---

Tec (Tom), I hadn't considered this in the light of ZATAoMM. Interesting. I also, hadn't considered the components of sentimentality (you're right of course). Thank you for the kind words. These types of poems rarely see the light of day from me, as I distrust myself when writing them. Thank you again.

[shemthepenman]

this is great! only one little tiny thing, is the 'of school' [instead of 'at school'] in the title deliberate; i am sure it is, but can't quite figure out why. but then again i am a little tipsy right now, so forgive my slowyness.

[Todd]

Leanne, the with is a nice call out, and I'll fix it. I'm glad you enjoyed the poem--nothing to be sorry about. I appreciate your reaction.

---

Hi goldy, thanks for the read. The school bus is an interesting idea. I'll give all your comments some thought. Thank you for your words. I appreciate them.

---

Hi Shem, it's the little things. So, let me give the of/at some thought. Everything helps.

Thank you.

[Yelleryella123]

I love this.. it touched something in my heart. The child in me, and the mother in me. Sort of like a fractal of my existence. I do not know what else to say that would be of any use. You captured a moment in time in your mind with references to others who have impacted you in the same way your words are passed on in your readers - because your voice has impact, honesty, clarity, and love that we can all relate to.

[Todd]

Yeller, think you for the kind words and comments. I'm glad you liked the poem.

[popeye]

Thanks for a most enjoyable read Todd, so very descriptive it took me back to when my kids were at that age so very long ago, wonderful insight, nothing here that I would change! Perfect!

[Todd]

Thank you Popeye. I appreciate the kind words.