We never had one of
those TV sitcom
father-imparts-his-sage
wisdom, serious sit-downs
that I can recall
I have no fatherly counsel
fortune-cookie-inclusion
viral-meme-worthy
wisdom to share
rarely proclaiming,
“As my daddy used to say…”
Sans great punchline
parts of my father
I carry with me, mirth more
tangible than profundity
less open to interpretation
than mere platitudes
a life lived differently,
enjoyed fully
real examples used regularly:
treat people well
don’t sweat the small stuff
experience new things
appreciate old one
learn from whoever you can
because you
always can and you should
we never
discussed those things
what I learned most
from my dad was by osmosis
glacial, inexorable
noticeable only in retrospect
soaking up a life
generously poured, oftentimes
inadvertently spilled
hit me again, bartender.
conflicted by faith, he
simply lived faithfully
more-eighteen-than-
twenty-four-carat
Golden Rule doing-unto-others
sort of living
real gold doesn’t tarnish
I could say I never took a lesson
though that would be wrong
I unknowingly Jedi-mastered
mystical arts of wry observation
sardonic commentary, satirical jabs
serious points cloaked in
functional parables
uproariously serious,
seriously funny
Like my father
I can never resist or not
appreciate a
humorous turn of phrase,
slapstick comedy,
ribald satire, bad pun
I learned from my dad
have confirmed by living: life
is a fine definition of irony
cursed I am, by
the grins of the father
– Mark L. Lucker
© 2018
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd
Ponderable polemics, poetic 