A tale from the days when some borders could not be crossed..


A distant shore



Inside coal-sooty windowpanes,
the pungent smell of cabbage soup,
the duck-quacks and the hen-droppings,
the muddy roads,
the wind whistling
through the boards in winter,
that is how we lived

and I was very small

once we went to the sea
walking for hours
on sunbaked gravel roads
lept at by the tall grass along the road

then the sand
between my chubby baby toes
my plaited hair turning
this way and that
to follow seagull's flight
or listen to the call of worried terns

My Father
dark and brooding
sat on his haunches
traced the westerly horizon
with his fingertip

I stood between his knees
and heard him whisper

'There, there is another country
a better, freer, fairer land
where thoughts are free
and no heart in iron's bound'


Ever since that day
my heart has longed for western shores
and lands beyond horizons.

Though every land I've seen
so far
shows me that
father either dreamed
or lied to himself
or else he could not
have lived with
the sad joy
of eternal cabbage soup.






Poetry by Teddy Donobauer
Read 539 times
Written on 2007-09-04 at 12:00

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Zoya Zaidi
What a Story, and how well told!

Yes, those words told so earnestly,
in moments of vulnerability,
by fathers to sons-
Words that are more whispers than words;
Words that are more loud thinking-
Sometimes wishful thinking-
Meant to just ease the burden of the soul,
Weighing heavily on the heart;
Words, which are not meant to be heard;
Are the very words that etch themselves
on the hearts of innocent children,
Forever,
unknown to their fathers...

I agree with Rob, you Are a word-smith!
Welcome again to the bay dear Teddy!
((Hugs))
Love, Zoya

Language: 5
Format: 5
Mood: 5
Overall: 5
2007-09-13


Rob Graber
What a fine, bittersweet write! And

"or listen to the call of worried terns"

--that's just one especially fine example of a real wordsmith at work.
2007-09-04


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Well writan , Teedy , the grass always sems greener , to our perants. They hope that one day we will walk on that grass.

Ken ( D Williams)

Language: 5
Format: 5
Mood: 5
Overall: 5
2007-09-04