Wednesday, 26 August 2009


I don’t know about you but

I’ve avoided writing poems

about Dad

turning working hands, at David Browns’,

on pinion, spur and helical gear


although, cogitating now by a winding river,

distant cars are meshing male and female parts;

gearbox dreams of speed and torque.


He worked on every Aston Martin

James Bond drove

so he saved the world

and he loved, he loved,

a beer and chat.


I don’t know about you.


  1. Sweet! Actaully, my Dad is one of my favorite subjects. I wrote a song about him when I was 12, again at 14. I took 6 months writing an essay for him at 35--best thing I ever wrote! And a simple poem -- "My Dad can Fly". I love writing about him. And I really liked this poem and am glad you wrote about YOUR Dad.

  2. Nice, I've written a few essay re: Dad but not poems.

  3. Dad, our relationship was on life support as you edited the paper & drank at the bar. Arrghh, rough one. Keep going

  4. It still sounds, to my biased ear, as something less than celebratory. Meshing male and female parts. He saved the world thru James Bond. He loved what? Not you, not your mother...a beer and a chat. I have to go with my first impression on this one. You've learned from the mistakes of others.

  5. I like this. Dad's are complicated. Because they're people like everyone else. Something we learn as we grow up. But I like this. :)