Hillary Roth

I am her Father

She is born

My world forever changes

Feel tears run down my face as they put her in my arms

I AM HER FATHER

She is five

My world forever changes

Feel tears run down my face as she walks away from me to school

Yet, I am her father

She is six

My world forever changes

Feel tears run down my face as she looks at me scared

Nonetheless, I am her father

She is ten

My world forever changes

Feel tears run down my face because I do not know her or myself

However, I am her father

She is sixteen

My world forever changes

Feel tears run down my face she is depressed, sick, and on the wrong path

Still, I am her father

She is eighteen

My world forever changes

Feel tears run down my face I missed her high school graduation

Nevertheless, I am her father

She is twenty-three

My world forever changes

Feel tears run down my face as I learn from another she is a college graduate

No matter, I am her father

She is twenty-four

My world forever changes

Feel tears run down my face as she walks down the aisle and everyone asks “Who is her father?”

I AM HER FATHER

(additional poetry submission)

Can you Papa?

Can you hear it, Papa?

I can

Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Conway Twitty are playing

Rumbling V8 GMC, single cab pickup on a gravel road

Can you smell it, Papa?

I can

Old Spice, Brut, Stetson, sweat

Lawn mower cutting the back ½ acre, permeating the air with grass

Can you taste it, Papa?

I can

IBC cream soda from a glass bottle, ice cold watermelon, French toast

Fish caught before dawn on Lake Somerville slathered in beer batter fish fry

Can you see it, Papa?

I can

Dickies jumpers, wrangler jeans, Hanes white v-neck tees

Hospital bed with sheets pulled up to your chest

Can you touch it, Papa?

I can

Soft cotton, fish scales, rickety plastic, aluminum lawn chairs

Strong hands and arms to hold me tight

Revision Account

“I am her Father” was written for this class specifically since I had not tried to write poetry before, and when I sat down to write it was the first poem that flowed out of me. The midterm has given me the chance to find another part of myself, as a writer, that I did not know exist. I wrote the poem as soon as learned about the midterm so I would have the chance to adjust it before the due date. The poem is from my heart and mind, and affected by my own emotions that encircle my father.

“Can you, Papa?” was my next piece and occurred the same night as “I am her Father”, and I think that is because both of these men influenced my life in such opposite ways. The emotion in “Can you, Papa?” was drawn from memories of my Grandfather from childhood up until he was lying in Hospice. I know that in class we learned to not use writing poetry as therapy and that is not what is going on here. Writing these did not cleanse my soul, relieve my mind, or empower me, it just allowed me to illustrate my thoughts. Poetry is different for everyone, rarely do we all have the same reaction, and I cannot imagine that we attempt to write the same way. The experience of writing a poem was nothing like writing fiction for me; furthermore, it had more in common to a stream of consciousness that has become something concrete.

I exchanged my poem with my step-sister, Laura Ferguson, who graduated with a Master’s in Creative Writing from St. Edward’s in Austin with high hopes that she would give excellent feedback. Laura had no comments on “I am her Father” except she felt it was strong and evoked emotion from the reader. Her suggestions involved grammar; for example, “Can you Papa?” she felt I should add a comma at the end of “Can you” before “Papa” that way the question was directed to him only, as I had intended. She incited further review as stated in this excerpt of the email “I didn’t edit any grammar or anything because its poetry and that can be however you want it to be.” The aforementioned comment lead me to further assessment of the poem in reference in case there was more that could be edited without altering the work.

I also exchanged my poems with classmate, Tara McGee, she reviewed both “I am her Father” and “Can you, Papa?” and replied with plenty of feedback. Her thoughts and revisions on the poems were excellent and insightful, I truly enjoyed reading them. Her honest opinion of “I am her Father” was that it lacked imagery and seemed unfinished, whereas she enjoyed “Can you, Papa?” because it had as she said “excellent imagery” and evoked memories of her own Papa. She recommended that in the first stanza, line three “Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, and Honky Tonk Angel are playing” that either change them all to artists or songs, and that I should review my use of articles. Her further view on the use of articles was to contemplate completely removing them. Tara’s suggestion for “I am her Father” was to edit the lines that said “My world is forever changed” and “I feel tears running down my face…” Also, stanza seven, line twenty-seven “…I learn from other she is a college graduate” change the other to another, which that was a typo since it was suppose to be ‘others’ but I felt ‘another’ was more effective.

Dr. White briefly reviewed the two poems for me since I was nervous about this assignment and his pick of the two was “I am her Father”. His suggestions were to add words such as ‘but’ or ‘still’ to lines that said “I am her Father”, rather than use “…changed” try ‘changes’, and to remove ‘I’ from the lines “I feel tears…” All of these suggestions added to those made by Laura and Tara created two poems that I have really transformed from their beginning to now, and even so could probably still withstand further editing.

Original Poems:

I am her Father

She is born

My world is forever changed

I feel tears run down my face as they put her in my arms

I am her father

She is five

My world is forever changed

I feel tears run down my face as she walks away from me to school

I am her father

She is six

My world is forever changed

I feel tears run down my face as she looks at me scared

I am her father

She is ten

My world is forever changed

I feel tears run down my face because I do not know her or myself

I am her father

She is sixteen

My world is forever changed

I feel tears run down my face she is depressed, sick, and on the wrong path

I am her father

She is eighteen

My world is forever changed

I feel tears run down my face I missed her high school graduation

I am her father

She is twenty-three

My world is forever changed

I feel tears run down my face as I learn from other she is a college graduate

I am her father

She is twenty-four

My world is forever changed

I feel tears run down my face as I watch her walk down the aisle and everyone asks me “Who are you?”

I am her father

Can you Papa?

Can you hear it Papa?

I can

Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, and Honky Tonk Angel are playing

Rumbling V8 GMC, single cab pickup on a gravel road

Can you smell it Papa?

I can

Old Spice, Brut, Stetson, and sweat

Lawn mower cutting the back ½ acre permeating the air with grass

Can you taste it Papa?

I can

IBC cream soda from a glass bottle, ice cold watermelon, and French toast

Fish caught before dawn on Lake Somerville slathered in beer batter fish fry

Can you see it Papa?

I can

Dickies jumpers, wrangler jeans, and Hanes white v-neck tees

Hospital bed with sheets pulled up to your chest

Can you touch it Papa?

I can

Soft cotton, fish scales, and rickety plastic, aluminum lawn chairs

Strong hands and arms to hold me tight