Sins of the Father

Sins of the Father
Sins of the father. Who missed the target?
Was it my father, his father or his father or his...?
Patriarchal penetration, perpetration and perpetuation in perpetuity?
A continuum of misery and abuse?
Nature or Nurture?
Suffering of the father, where did it begin?
Does the suffering ever end?
Is this some karmic cycle pedaling its wares?
A cosmic ponzi scheme promoted by sad clowns on unicycles?
Recycled refuse?
As I look back into my mother's womb,
I see my father penetrating my mother's psyche.
He just passed on the genes of his suffering
which collided with my mother's suffering.
A nexus of suffering was created in that instant of recognition.
Is the past really the past?
A ghost of memory?
An event cataloged through binary causal impressions
tattooed on the skin of memory?
Who's your daddy? Who's your mama?
Or is the past an obscured window —
frosted glass and cracked reflections?
Distorted and contorted images?
A hall of mirrors?
Once the needle and the ink touch the skin,
a pang of burning ink needles an image on human canvas.
In-scribing both beauty and horror in skin deep trauma and fantasy.
Tribal DNA passed on through myths and misnomers.
Traditions and distractions?
I see the needle of my father's desire
putting his mark inside my mother.
Planting confused emotions of orgasm and shame.
Passing on coded cyphers and cryptic conjurations, dark archaic arcana.
Hexes and Spells and Family Curses?
Dad and mom were duped by the muffled whispers
and echoes of half remembered dreams.
Reverberations of a dead tongue, 
muttered on the dying breaths of traumatic transference.

"And you, poor creatures, who conjured you out of the clay? Is god in show business too?"** 
Here I am shot through the womb portal. 
Another timestream conjured from a temporal delusion.
Creating a present dream from past ghostly hauntings.
Nomadic DNA passed on by cosmic conquistadors?
Tilting at windmills?
Understanding of trauma and suffering leads to compassion.
Suffering is a seed of compassion, planted in my psyche.
So, I can pass-on com-pass-i-on — to end suffering.
Suffering and Compassion paradoxical partners in the spacetime illusion.
Row gently down the stream, merrily...
A seed is a hidden forest.
What’s sown is what’s reaped.
The sower casts his emission and then goes to sleep.
Seed, soil, and sower — all reflections from the deep.
“Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle.” *
This morning, I sit with my father.
Probing to understand his great sorrow and suffering.
I am his progeny, and I have been conceived in sorrow.
And now he now looks into me to probe his psychic sins.
So, he can finally stop tilting at windmills... and me too.

*“Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle.” 
― Lewis Carroll , Alice in Wonderland 
**From Zardoz
Arthur Frayn : …But *I* am invented, too, for your entertainment - and amusement. And you, poor creatures, who conjured *you* out of the clay? Is God in show business too?
”Arthur Frayn : It was I who led you to the 'Wizard of Oz' book! Ha-hah, it was I who gave you access to the Stone! It was I!
Arthur Frayn : I bred you! I led you!
Zed : And I have looked into the face of the force that put the idea in your mind. You are bred, and led, yourself.
[He strides away, and Friend advances to join Arthur] 
Friend : Arthur! We've all been used!
Arthur Frayn : And re-used.
Friend : And abused!
Arthur Frayn : And amused!
Zardoz : Zardoz is pleased.”
Cats in the Cradle

“My child arrived just the other day
Came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
He was talkin' 'fore I knew it
And as he grew he said,
'I'm gonna be like you, Dad,
You know I'm gonna be like you.'

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man 'n the moon.
'When you comin' home?'
'Son, I don't know when. We'll get together then.
You know we'll have a good time then.'

Well, my son turned ten just the other day.
He said, 'Thanks for the ball, Dad. Come on, let's play.
Could you teach me to throw?'
I said, 'Not today. I got a lot to do.'
He said, 'That's okay.' And he walked away and he smiled and he said,
'You know, I'm gonna be like him, yeah.
You know I'm gonna be like him.'

Well, he came from college just the other day,
So much like a man I just had to say,
'I'm proud of you. Could you sit for a while?'
He shook his head and he said with a smile,
'What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys.
See you later. Can I have them please ?'

I've long since retired, my son's moved away.
I called him up just the other day.
'I'd like to see you, if you don't mind.'
He said, 'I'd love to, Dad, if I could find the time.
You see my new job's a hassle and the kids have the flu,
But it's sure nice talkin' to you, Dad.
It's been sure nice talkin' to you.'
And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me,
He'd grown up just like me.
My boy was just like me.”

Written by: Sandy Chapin, Harry F. Chapin
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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