Deep Regrets
Dedicated to the memory of the 118 men of the Russian submarine Kursk, which exploded and sank in the Barents Sea on August 12th 2000.
The protocols of men of power;
Agendas passed in hiding.
Procrastination steals the hour,
Now there is none abiding.
Unseen, forsaken in the deep.
Paralysis sub-zero.
A frozen slumber’s tragic keep.
The silence of the hero.
As nations feel all hope recede,
One hundred men and more
Lay perished now, through lack of heed
Upon the ocean floor.
Entombed in freezing Arctic flows,
Their deeds for evermore
Recalled in ice-bound echoes
Where the elements do war.
O Trinity of love and power,
Receive into thy grace
These men, who in their final hour
The cruel seas embrace.
Let every man who evermore
‘Neath lonely sea or sky
Shall sail, remember,—there but for
The grace of God go I.
©2000 Rod Walford
On Changing Nappies
There once was a daddy
A father of three
With a beautiful daughter
Who bounced on his knee
Her little eyes sparkled
Like sunlight on bling
And each time she giggled
He felt his heart sing
Now he was her daddy
His love was complete
And he cared for her needs
From her head to her feet
He would feed her and dress her
But some thought it strange
That when needs be in public
Her nappy he’d change
“How gross!” How disgusting!”
“That’s awful!” they’d say
“He’s a dirty old man—
They should take him away!”
The women went on
With a bitch and a moan
“You just can’t have a man
With a young girl alone!”
Now the daddy was sad
But resolved to be strong
For he knew that their thinking
Was totally wrong
It was just one more step
In the feminist plan
To lay every sin
At the foot of a man
If they’d had their way
They’d have had the man hung
As they spat out their words
With a poisonous tongue
But a wise man was daddy
And calmly replied
That his love for his daughter
Would not be denied
“Of course there’s a few
Who are twisted and bent
But it’s not that all men
Have demonic intent”
“And if you can see evil”
He said “You will find
It is not in my caring
But there in your mind.”
Then he picked up his girl
And he said “Come on Miss!”
Then she threw her arms round him
…And gave him kiss.
©Rod Walford
Rod Walford is an Englishman living in Auckland, New Zealand and has been writing poetry for some 25 years. He is a semi-retired diesel fuel injection engineer. He has self-published several books of rhyming poetry including “Timeless,” “Real Poetry for Real Women (written by a man),” and “One Hour before the Dawn.” Access his website here: www.rodwalfordpoetry.com
“Deep Regrets” is a very moving poem. The use of the freezing sea image is quite appropriate, even though many men were killed by explosions and fire, and those who could have survived apparently succumbed to lack of oxygen. Each sailor who ventures BENEATH the lonely sea is a hero just in taking up that dangerous duty.
The second poem well describes one of the many risks a father must undertake today (not to mention traditional burdens). It is hardly surprising that society is experiencing a crisis of fatherhood. Thanks to the good men persevering in the vocation.
Rod,
In “… Nappies” you somehow got by with almost no punctuation except for punctuation marks. I think this was possible because all your clauses and phrases were exactly one line long. In some strange way, with end-stopped grammatical units, line-ends seem to function as a type of virtual punctuation. This, I think, is a useful observation, because, as it happens, I never felt that anything you expressed was unclear or in need of traffic control.
The 2nd poem was based on an incident in Australia where a father was abused by a self-righteous mother for using the parent’s room in a shopping centre to change his child’s nappy.
He was threatened with being reported as a paedophile by the abusive mother.
Once this hit social media, other fathers spoke of their experiences with the same type of bigotry and self-righteous mothers who believe any man around children must be up to no good.
Thank you C.B. I am going to take that as a huge compliment as I am a great admirer of your attention to detail regarding the laws and statutes of poetry. Somehow I feel like a naughty schoolboy who has only just escaped the class in time to avoid the cane!
Sorry, Rod, but “punctuation marks” in my initial comment should have been “quotation marks.” I hope this clarifies my comment. But what do you think of the idea that line breaks are a sort of punctuation?
Yes thank you C.B. you did convey to me that the communication worked fine. I completely concur with your thoughts on punctuation – I generally pay scant regard to it whilst I am writing ( as you’ve probably noticed!) and only if I am submitting for competition then I will go through it with a more diacritical eye.
Rod,
There are no laws and there are no statutes; there is only clarity in communication. Without that, nothing else matters. I hope I already conveyed the idea that your poem communicated perfectly. Punctuation is a tool to facilitate communication. Used or abused, it doesn’t alter substance or turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse.