our fathers

give the boy a toy soldier
some tanks and battle cries
dress him up in cowboy clothes
the only good Injuns are dead ones

bang bang you’re dead son
give us a chance dad
you gotta learn quick son
yeah but give us a chance dad

give the boy a placard
hold it in the air boy
tell the boy what to shout about
doesn’t matter he looks bemused

what do we want son?
I haven’t got a clue dad
when do we want it son?
I don’t know I’m just a boy dad

give the boy a slap dad
slap him across the thigh
tell the boy there’s more where that came from
threaten with your hand held high

want another one like that son?
what did I do wrong dad?
shut your mouth and do as you’re told son
I’m really sorry dad

give the boy a rifle
tell him how to clean it
cherish this more than your mother’s life boy
because by god you’re gonna need it

point it and pull the trigger son
but it feels so heavy dad
kill the fucking deer son
but it’s got a young one to feed dad

give the boy a uniform
make him feel like he’s a god
feed him whores to steal his childhood
take it away for good

if she doesn’t want it slap her son
is that the way it’s done dad?
you gotta tell ’em who’s the boss son
I’ll tell ’em like you said dad

give the boy some power
a gang of drooling men to lead
vote for him for he’s the one
yes he’s the one we all agree

take this power and use it well son
there’s hatred in my blood dad
remember all I taught you son
yes your will it will be done dad


NB: this one follows on from the last and hopefully continues a thread of thoughts on a particular theme – one which is admittedly a rather odd take on Father’s Day:



5 thoughts on “our fathers

    • thank you for reading and leaving a comment. I do appreciate there are very many good fathers too but it does seem that men are mainly responsible for most of the aggression in the world. But how to end that cycle? Best wishes to you. Colin.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. I know this is written for boys, but my father used to tell me to be a “good soldier” and “buck up” and if anyone crossed me, to give them my all. Learned to be a scrapper as a young girl, with a reputation for holding my own. His father would beat him before leaving the house “in case he did anything wrong” while he was away. The legacy of brutality echoes through generations.

    Liked by 1 person

    • My grandfather was left-handed and was beaten by his father every time he was seen using his left hand. We need to break the violence on all levels if we are to ever achieve a better and kinder humanity. I appreciate my poem perhaps draws a simplistic overview but we carry the weight of what we inherit throughout our lives and no generation should pass that burden on to the next if it can help it. Hey, I’m sending a smile to you before I log off and head for bed 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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