a poetic offering from the least likely
This was a poem that was recited at the end of the movie Smoke Signals, a movie about two Native American friends who go on a journey to find and forgive absent fathers. Their smoke signals are cries for help. The movie was just fair but the ending was wonderful, with this poem being recited over beautiful cinematography. (I put the poets name in lower case in keeping with how I like my poets…)
forgiving our fathers
by dick lourie
how do we forgive our fathers?
maybe in a dream
do we forgive our fathers for leaving us too often or forever
when we were little?
maybe for scaring us with unexpected rage
or making us nervous
because there never seemed to be any rage there at all.
do we forgive our fathers for marrying or not marrying our mothers?
for divorcing or not divorcing our mothers?
and shall we forgive them for their excesses of warmth or coldness?
shall we forgive them for pushing or leaning
for shutting doors
for speaking through walls
or never speaking
or never being silent?
do we forgive our fathers in our age or in theirs
or their deaths
saying it to them or not saying it?
if we forgive our fathers what is left?
* This poem was originally published in a longer version titled “Forgiving Our Fathers” in a book of poems titled Ghost Radio.
Sounds like dick is still struggling.
Comment by michael — March 14, 2007 @ 6:23 am
I tried to watch “Smoke Signals” many years ago but mut have been out of tune with it, because I don’t remember it — may not have even watched the whole thing … I’ve no such tensions with my own father, but I can appreciate the dynamics pondered here from discussions with many people. Thanks for the poetically posed opportunity to imagine.
Comment by adam — March 14, 2007 @ 6:45 am
It wasn’t a particularly memorable film…but for the ending which I found compelling. Something about it resonated. Caroline had to watch this film for one of her classes, that’s how we ended up getting it.
Comment by La Rad — March 14, 2007 @ 6:56 am
Adam, consider yourself among an elite few that have no father issues.
LaRad, I just bought the book. Thanks for the tip.
Jen
Comment by Jen — March 15, 2007 @ 9:03 am
Father issues? I guess most people do have them. I woke up yesterday morning remembering my father singing “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean…” while he worked on a project in the garage. That was about 60 years ago, and I haven’t had that particular recollection for many decades, so it was buried deep, deep, deep. After that I wondered if my dad had suddenly died (he’s 95 today), and I had gotten a 4th dimensional message. He hasn’t. He’s as well as can be expected for having survived 9 1/2 decades.
(But there have always been issues, issues,…)
Comment by rakkity — March 15, 2007 @ 8:32 pm
I don’t mean to imply any connection, but your dad’s singing reminded me of Nigel Slater’s “Toast: The Story of a Boy’s Hunger. He writes: “Cake holds a family together. I really believed it did. My father was a different man when there was cake in the house….if he had a plate of cake in his hand I knew that I could climb up onto his lap.” And Nigel describes watching his father tending to his flower garden, how loving and meticulous he was minutes after he’d beaten Nigel for spilling food on the carpet.
I guess I was thinking how different a man my father would have been had he been able to sing songs while working. Matthew might be thinking how different a father he would have had had his dad been able to sing on key.
Comment by michael — March 16, 2007 @ 7:44 am
But Matt’s dad nevertheless does now and again sing, and for whatever frictions there have been or yet may be, I hope Matt will someday look back and say he has no father issues. For if ever there were a more expressive family (given the seemingly inevitable teen taciturnity), I’ve not met it, and “issues” seem to live in what’s not expressed.
Comment by el Kib — March 16, 2007 @ 8:21 am
Happy Birthday Rakkity’s dad. 95…Wow!!
Comment by Chris — March 16, 2007 @ 4:09 pm