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Baby Girl: Daddy, Daddy, but why does grandma sometimes say things on her mind without thinking?
Daddy: Like what my baby, what did she say?
Baby Girl: Something that really hurt me, something that broke my heart?
Daddy: How did it happen, what where you doing, I know you’re smart.
Baby Girl: Well Daddy, I was talking about getting a doggy with grandpa, and grandma told grandpa to switch the conversation. And then she said to me “You’re not getting a doggy, your mommy lives in Spain, your Daddy doesn’t live in Canada anymore, and I don’t even know if he is here to stay!” Grandpa couldn’t take the fight, and went out for a walk in the night, he’s so mad, and so I have come here.
Daddy: Honey, I understand, but let me teach you something that has a lot of value that I have come to know, that in every good fighter something is broken. I have wrestled the biggest guys, and broken down four at once, and I have never felt happy with what I have done if I broke them down out of anger. I have this little part inside, that’s broken when I fight, for when something is broken you are very good at breaking not fixing. You are like this too, you have my blood, I can see if there is a fight, before it starts you have won. But winning is not always the right thing to do, you can’t always break something for the sake of breaking it, or break someone’s heart just because you wanted to be right. Do you understand that grandma doesn’t want to live in Africa, she wants to live in Canada, and for her, wanting a Dog means that either the dog stays here, and I stay here or it stays with her, but it is something to keep her here and that is the last thing she wants to hear. For deep inside her, her dream of where she wants to be is broken. For Grandpa, it is hard for he is here as well, and for many reasons, enough is enough, he can’t take the pressure from all sides, and for this he is broken. What seemed simple for you is much more complex, and what do people do when there is something broken?
Baby Girl: “They break things?”
Daddy: Yes that’s correct, they break things, Like your little heart that wanted someone to say she could get a puppy.
Baby Girl: “Like the girl at school daddy, she is like me, her parents have split like you and mommy, and we both feel broken, but we can’t fix it, and she always controls people, and she is so mean, and I don’t like her, and she is only good at breaking things, ”
Daddy: “Yes kind of my baby, something like this, for when there is something inside of you, and its broken, its hard to fix things, especially about yourself. Often it makes them a good fighter, because inside of every good fighter there is something broken, but a really great fighter knows how to help people by not always trying to break things to be right, because being right is not always the answer. A great fighter is about having skill and control, not just passion. Grandma didn’t need to tell you that you can’t get a dog because of the situation with your mommy and me living all over, because that is something inside you that I think is still broken. Is it?”
Baby Girl: “Yes daddy, I feel it, I don’t know. I want Daddy with Mommy, I really don’t like the boys she is with, I want to see Daddy, am I in Canada, am I in Spain, am I in Africa. I don’t want to live in Spain, but I want mommy and you in Canada. And I have to go to French school, and I want a doggy, and I want to speak English, and sometimes my grandparents they say bad things about you, and I think that somehow you broke mommy and mommy broke you, and I don’t know, but I feel broken too.”
Daddy: I understand, and feeling something broken, sometimes you feel like being negative or being mean, and sometimes this makes you a bully. But you have learned not to be a bully in school, and you now see a bully when they are coming. And inside of them, you know now there is something broken. Sometimes I think there is something broken in all of us, but the reality is if you know something is broken you have a choice, be a fighter- which isn’t always the best thing, or to realise that there is something broken in the people who try to fight with you, something truly sad, something they may never know, but at least you know what is broken, and you choose not to let that make you someone that you don’t want to be.
Baby Girl: When I was younger, I was a bully in school Daddy, and now I am not, because Grandma in Spain and the teachers they helped me fix this by not being so mad at people. And Daddy, I know that you too talked with me about kids in school, and what you told me worked.
Daddy: Well the most important thing baby, is that when you feel something is broken, you can always talk to daddy, and if I am not myself, you can always ask me what’s broken inside of me. You see, the best way to help someone is to let them fix themselves, what is the source, sometimes it is years back. Like with your mommy and me, that has been 4 years now. That is a long time, and some people carry around that broken piece their whole life. I don’t want that to be you or me, just talking with you makes me listen to myself, and I think it’s so important that you and I have this bond because we love each other, and can see who we really are, and I want to be proud of you, and I want you to be proud of me. Its not always ok to be right, because sometimes being right hurts people. I found out when I was younger, and I still fight with the fact that I want to be right, I don’t like nonsense, I like logic, but my heart tells me that I sometimes have to let go. Because I don’t always have to be a fighter, I don’t always have to be right, sometimes, if its a piece inside of me that is broken that makes me want to fight or to be right, then the only thing fighting or being right will do is…?
Baby Girl: “Breaking something”
Daddy: Are you going to apologies for your behaviour tonight, because grandma and grandpa probably think you are not happy about the wonderful day they spent with you, because you visited a pet shop and had this fight. And somehow you where all right, but it all came from somewhere broken. So you all need to apologize.
Baby Girl: Ok Daddy, I understand. I love you.
Daddy: It is so important that we understand each other, even as you grow older. I love you, and I would like to have this bond and understanding as long as we can, forever, and after I want this to be a part of you. I want to be proud of you, and I am. I love you.
I love words,
I have always loved them,
I love their meaning,
Especially in knowing the true meaning,
Or knowing the words that describe the abstract,
Not the object of who you are, no,
Regard the object as just that,
Something that has many parallels,
But the true meaning is only one abstract of the abstract,
As the truth is.
The truth of who you are in words,
What great meaning, what great love,
Outside of the person or inside of the person,
I love this meaning of which there is a word,
Disguised for most as an object,
Like a Word,
but is a word truly an object,
Are you aware of the most beautiful word in the world,
Because of its meaning,
I only wish to be with,
I only wish to hold,
and or pronounce,
I love,
“you”
For “you” is the meaning of my life,
The very thing I love in all words,
The very meaning of everything,
The value of any object in relation to,
For what I love in every word,
It is not an object
it is you.
I love the meaning of words,
I love words, especially you.
You is my favourite word,
For the meaning of it is much more profound,
And amazing than anyone could ever imagine,
Unless they know you as I do.
Ryan Anthony Gibson
Inevitably I am begining to feel older, but it doesn’t seem to effect the urge to be young with you again. It’s as if I am standing beside the lighthouse humbly waiting to call you home. I have given up years ago on leaving notes around the city, and there is little virginity left in my thoughts or soul, but in my poems I sometimes can ignite and remember the virgin thoughts that brought us together.
It is a disease to believe that you can live without love, a disease that has effected many for them to die wanting of love, when they should die for love. My only regret would be that I never died for love would be on my tomb stone, for in some ways I feel I never put up the fight you desired. I am not facing a Doctor, Lawyer, or Prince that far reaches my place in society or the world. I am facing the tradtion of families different than my own, and the mind of a 29 year old woman who can not make it up, however, for some it takes 50 years, others never, accept maybe as their last thought in the form of a regret or confirmation.
I am not waiting on a riverboat or in a hovel office, but often I feel this way. The only sanity I have is the child who has every ounce of love once shared between us, and I get to share this with her every day I spend with her. Captured in her eyes, in her voice, her lovely laugh and zeal for humor and accepting the tribulations… I only wish she could overcome this fear. The fear I have seen in you, the fear you will face someday, the fear she doesn’t even know she has but we all do, and for her… I will also be there. I could not express it to you in any other way, and I don’t know at what point exactly I lost you, but going away for a year, turned into eternity. I have visited the shores of Cartegena, I have seen the river from which love floats, I have never taken my eyes off the ocean or the mountains or my mind from you.
Whether it was telegram, fax, mail, email, or phone, I have sent my words to you… like no other could for no person I know could love the way I do and have for 12 years of being with you. I wish we could find a way to get away from them all, mark the door with an “X” so that they would believe we have the plague and would never come in, some way to make it all go away, for their life is the illusion not ours. Its the illusion that someone else is right, that we were too young, or incapable of resolving our issues, or that we are now to different when we have never been more the same. I have no jail to break out of to run to you and stop you from marrying another, I have the resolve to wait until I am 80 years old if I can live that long, but I am happy in the fact that I know you read this letter, that I have our daughter to love, and that everything I ever loved in you exists pure as it was the day I met you…
Your Canadian Boy. Maybe you can tell your boyfriends I am coming to town someday and that you don’t want to see them anymore, maybe someday I will have the pleasure of being the good one for you again, or maybe someday, this will happen for someone else… who can write at least of that illusion that still afflicts me, or the reality that is now far less real than the illusion we live. The red lines on the flag is the blood I have bled, the yellow is the nature of those between us and greatness, and ourselves for not facing it.
You have been touched by many people in a day,
Elbows fabric shoulders skin,
To you they don’t mean anything,
But you would remember my sweet embrace,
And how I ran my fingers down your face,
Although upon the surface my love would start,
It would reach the greatest depths of your heart!
How to…
Poetry, music, sweet sayings, a listening ear
Nice stories of when you were young
But not about past loves to keep you clear
Give gifts that can be hung
In the window to color their life
Go on small trips and walks
Converse about dreams, not strife
Keep Negativity out of your talks
If it veers towards the subject
Confuse with creative quote
Then give them something
They cant object
Just keep to this antidote
A positive way to care
Is by showing the fruits I bare
Don’t ever, ever ask why
Because why do we love
Just stare deep into their eyes
All that should be enough.
I’ve got the time to wait around
To wait around for you,
For my little heart is bound
Bound when you’re in view.
Hear all my thoughts trapped inside
As my love does sit and brew.
Waste not the time searching world wide
When the love at home is true.
Always with you
Look at the bed unmade
And Reminesce of me
Think of where we loved and laid
What we came to be
Look careful at the tattered quilt
Twisted over the rippled sheets
Where our love was built
And our hearts would often meet
Smell the flowers of love in the air
The sweet scent of my body and hair
Although the room did seem to be bare
Now you know that I am here
Beware My Love
A disease that has effected
The whole of the body
The ears that ache till they hear
The voice of
The eyes that pain and water
For the loss of
The sore skin that waits
For the touch from
The joints that ache to go
Towards some
And what of the Monday Lost in bliss or nostalgia
No one is immune to this infliction
Contagious from human affection
To be aware of it is to have seen
To know what all this means
To David Richer, just because he is a love sick puppy. Gibby
The eyes that roam the room astray
For the chance to catch another gaze
Or a gentle brush, the subtle graze
That gets ones head to raise.
What it takes or what I try
Doesn’t have to reward reply
For the love I give and apply
Comes back to me as time whisks bye
(Addition)
What it takes or what I try
Doesn’t have to reward reply
For the love I give and apply
Comes back to me as time whisks bye
