Daughter to Father Poem. Father Daughter Poems. Poems for Fathers. one aging body containing galaxies, black holes. when he speaks I am sucked into a black hole.
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Daughter father spoken word poetry.Daughter to Father Poems. my father's worlds and words - and mine. He is alive for me.
my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker

my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker

my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker

my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker

my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker

my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker























my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker























Elsa, spoken word artist

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my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker





my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker




my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker




my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker

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MY FATHER'S WORLDS


the most important thing for me
       work
       achieve
       reach
don’t just stay locked inside
   like my father


a world inside
a thousand worlds

a life inside
a thousand stories

memories
intensities

but inside
contained

in one aging body
      containing galaxies
      black holes


            when he speaks I am sucked into a black hole
                                          a whirling vortex
            he needs to be heard
            I fight against the black hold of his need

            though away from him
            I play over and over
                        in my mind
                                         his memories

a memory
one of his memories
replaying in my mind

            I was fourteen.
            In my village I saw Russian prisoners of war
            being transferred,
            many too weak to walk,
            held up by others,
            hanging on so they could get to the next camp.
            I remember a Nazi officer,
            a kid actually, maybe twenty,
            maybe a sadist, a brute,
            maybe just brainwashed,
            pick up a branch of thorns,
            whip one man,
            the thorns pulling chunks of flesh from his neck.
            I went to my father, crying.
            He told the SS officer next door.
            The young man was transferred
            to the Russian front.
            I heard not long after that he had been killed.

a million memories
no space inside me to listen
unless the words have been shaped
into stories in books

or unless I am asking

often I listen to others

I stay silent with my father

with him
I have nothing to say

also with others these days
I often have nothing to say

inside me
I find nothing to say

he has
      galaxies
      black holes
      memories whirling
             consuming his interest
             fascinating him
             holding him
             feeding him
             pleasing him

I watch the cat
       purring on my lap
and feel flat

Elsa
May 27, 2000
© Elsa Schieder, 2000, 2011, all rights reserved

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Three years passed.
Just a few months before my father's death,
other words came to me.

The Night Before the Forever Dark.
Another daughter to father poem
.

 

He died in an accident. A car crash.
Within weeks, I was moved to explore
what home had meant to him -
and especially how he had never felt really at home.

Chosen Home - A Reflection
.
I suppose one could call this father and daughter stories,
because I was also exploring my own so frequent
sense of not being at home
.

 

Even better than just going to those other pieces,
stay in touch.

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My father, myself.
There's no one I've felt closer to.
His creativity, intensity, desire.
His hope, his despair. Elsa.

I can't believe he's no longer alive -
he is so alive for me.

My father, myself. He wrote. I write.
He dreamed.
I dream and hope and long
and try and try some more.
I'm less afraid to keep trying.
He looked so strong.
But it was hard for him
to find a place for himself
in the world.
One that fit.
So many walls inside himself.

One of my desires:
to find a place for my father's writings
in the world.

Welcome into my world.

And welcome also into my father's world.
He died several years ago,
left so many writings unfinished,
none sent out.
He always wanted me to take his work
and bring it out into the world.
But I was too stuck with my own work
not going anywhere.
Now, with this site,
I am sure there will be space
for both of us.

Elsa
June 18, 2006

 

      my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker              my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker

 

                                      my father - Erwin Schieder, writer, dreamer, poet, thinker

 Daughter to Father Poem. Father Daughter Poems.
Poems for Fathers.
one aging body containing galaxies,
black holes.
when he speaks I am sucked into a black hole,
a whirling vortex.
 

Words music. Spoken Word Poems. Poems on Life.
My Father's Worlds. My father, myself.
There's no one I've felt closer to.
His creativity, intensity, desire.
His hope, his despair. Elsa.

 

 


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Elsa

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A dozen years ago,
I began to wake up
with word pieces -
words music, spoken word, songs -
in my head.
Escape velocity.
Echo of the echo.
Tank almost empty.
Can't cross the gap.
Welcome into my world.




***NAVBAR***

 


WORDS MUSIC WORDS

Daughter to father poem
Father who wrote so many poems
Poems for fathers, poem for my father
Words from before he died
Daughter to father poem
Memories of my father
My father myself
My father - who else,
who else was so much like me?
no one else could ever be

Daughter to father poem
Daddy, no other father could be
a father so much my father
your desires, my desires
your words, my words
one word, one world
imagination, creativity

Daughter to father poem
Poems for fathers
daughter to father poems
the well will never run dry
the word will well up

You sat beside me
long after you died

Yet so much distance between us
Somehow so much distance

And yet so much the same

Or maybe we are utterly different

And yet so many loves are the same

Daughter to father poem
When I see your picture I feel
you are right here to hear me

You would be if you could

Poems for father
nothing simple

Life is not simple
Love is not simple
And yet no one has been closer
No one has been more me
No one maybe has so adored me
Or anyway so it sometimes seemed

Dreamer - so much a dreamer
Dreaming so many worlds
like your daughter

Daughter to father poems
you would have loved to know
you were sure you knew
father daughter love

Elsa
June 18, 2008
 © copyright - Elsa Schieder - 2008, 2011, all rights reserved



A GIFT TO MY FATHER AND THE WORLD
My Father's Poems ... on the web.
Poems of Longing -
Sehnsucht Gedichte
.
This is my favorite - Der Punkt.
It's about homesickness
.
My Father's Worlds, My Father's Words

 

 

 

     
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