"My Father's Love Letters" by Yusef Komunyakaa

My dad and Io.

My dad and me. 1981.

While searching for the perfect song, picture, or greeting card appropriate for father's day I happened upon this beautiful poem by Yusef Komunyakaa. Violence in all its forms continues to seep into our families. It is up to us to break the cycle and heal together. This poem speaks to my feelings for my father who has faulted and is flawed, but for whom I still have great compassion for.

"My Father's Love Letters" by Yusef Komunyakaa

On Fridays he'd open a can of Jax

After coming home from the mill,

and ask me to write a letter to my mother

Who sent postcards of desert flowers

Taller than men. He would beg,

Promising to never beat her

Again. Somehow I was happy

She had gone, and sometimes wanted

To slip in a reminder, how Mary Lou

Williams' "Polka Dots and Moonbeams"

Never made the swelling go down.

His carpenter's apron always bulged

With old nails, a claw hammer

Looped at his side and extension cords

Coiled around his feet.

Words rolled from under the pressure

Of my ballpoint: Love,

Baby, Honey, Please.

We sat in the quiet brutality

Of voltage meters and pipe threaders,

Lost between sentences . . .

The gleam of a five-pound wedge

On the concrete floor

Pulled a sunset

Through the doorway of his toolshed.

I wondered if she laughed

and held them over a gas burner.

My father could only sign

His name, but he'd look at blueprints

and say how many bricks

Formed each wall. This man,

Who stole roses and hyacinth

For his yard, would stand there

With eyes closed and fists balled,

Laboring over a simple word, almost

Redeemed by what he tried to say.

Listen to Yusef Komunyakaa recite his poem at my tumblr, The River Underground.