My Dad

 

My Dad

My dad wasn't ignorant but ignored many things

Wasn't greatly educated but knew many things

The 1960s, another century, another country

My dad claimed his friends were degrees without lawyers

And considered himself a lawyer without a degree

He couldn't finish Law school lack of funds, he said. 

Them hardly working and making tons of money

Him, working hard and making only pennies

My dad loved his church and his religion

Never laid a hand on my brothers or me

My dad loved the arts, classical music, books, and world history

He loved/hated politics. He also loved the bullfights

Never had money to visit museums or attend concerts 

Never saw the ocean, never stepped on foreign land

Never traveled by plane, barely by train, and never learned to drive

Another century, another country

My blood, another sad story

Many dreams, many hopes, many goals

Many nightmares, many disappointments, many failures

Am I talking about my dad or myself here?

My dad, selling my bike, pawning his guitar

Thrown from rental homes furniture on sidewalks

I sat on a ball; I was an innocent ten-year-old boy

But on Christmas day never missed a toy

My dad, his dreams of grandeur set aside for a while,

For the rest of his life.

Took us out to dinner, only one at a time

We were eight, plus my mom, plus him, too many

My dad, crossing the empty river, 104-degree heat

Walking at least two miles to reach his job

Only to walk ten more, checking massive warehouses 

Containing mountains of sacks, tons of grains, rice, beans, and flour,

When at home, we hardly saw any

My dad took me to the soccer game

My dad bought me a book

My dad took me to the movies

I am proud of my dad; I still miss and love him.

My dad died in my arms, my tears falling on his.

If he were alive, I would fly him on a plane, take him to Madrid 

Take him to the bullring, to the Del Prado museum

I would take him to the Mediterranean

Teach him how to drive, show him all my love and admiration

Even if I had to sell my soul to the devil

Because my soul belonged to him. To my dad, that is.

EDMUNDO BARRAZA

Visalia, Ca. 05-21-2012

http://edbar1952-accomplishedignorant.blogspot.com/