The sins of our fathers.

Our mentors, our father. They teach us.

The sins of our father’s.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

 We can learn kindness from living and seeing hate and violence. 

  (My father at sixty-one in 1998. The only time, he saw my daughter. The war and boozed killed him a month later.)

Father’s eyes and anger



Is my Father’s eyes and anger.
Are they mine now?

I told you,
I love you,
I need you.

Love should bring calm and peace.

Violence.
A hidden demon.
Can strike without thought.

Sweet friend,
kind lover.
Did you see the monster?

I tried to lock the demon up.
He tried to escape.

I must walk away for a moment.
Deep breathes and counting to ten.

My world is falling apart.
Like my Father’s world did.
He took the bad road.
Pissed off and violence.

I will keep quiet.
Do my best to stay strong.
Ain’t easy when your world is falling down around you.

We need kind words,
we need a lot of patience.
A lot of love and forgiveness.

I will pray to the God of life and death
Give me wisdom and strength.

                  Coyote
           7 Feb 1989

                        My Father..


When I look into the mirror.
Do I see you my father?

Have I become what I despised all my life?
Have my eyes.
Your violence become mine?.
Everyday I learn more loss.
Loss of dreams,
lost of desires.

Will I become like you?
Give up.
Show spirit only when I’m violence or excited?

Can I stop my journey to man-hood?
My eyes from hiding tears.
Gentleness.

Have I travel too far?
Is the blood too strong?

Am I destine to hurt everyone?
I have loved.

If I chose my own road.
Why do I follow my father sadness.

                        Coyote
                 27 April 1989

                 The sins of the fathers…

My father fought in wars.
Killed in battles that expanded to the real world.

He was a Mexican/Ojibwa man with no place to go.
Hated for his color and race.

He demanded respect and never allow anyone to
look down at him.
His anger and violence controlled his mind and heart.

He told me. “You will get a education and make them respect you.
I won’t allow you to live my life.”

My father watched me succeed.
He told me often. “Don’t allow my sins to become your sins.
I have killed, done bad things. You must overcome the sins of
your father.”

Now I have lived a good life. My father’s sins made me go in the right
direction. Sins of our father’s need to teach us a better way.

He asks me once. “Remember son. You must pray for me. Children must pray for
their parent to be allow to find peace.”

I pray he is with his Soldier brother’s in paradise. Drinking to a good day. I believe a kind God forgive the sins of men/soldiers lost in the turmoil of hate and prejudice.

The sins of our father’s must teach us the better road.

                            Coyote
                       5 Jan 2011

Author's Note

Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[Zoe Richardson]

My father fought in WWII, grew up and lived in the Jim Crow South. He knew a thing or two about violence and anger and prejudice. He could be absolutely infuriating at times. And yet, he was also very loving and devoted to his family. I never tried to deny that I am a carbon copy of him, the best and the worst. In fact, I am quite proud of it. The sins of the father do not define us, but they can shape us and allow us to find redemption. Thank you for your honest and open look at your father. I hope you have learned in the intervening years that you might have inherited his demons, but they do not have to rule you.

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree dear Zoe. I have his bad temper and anger. I do control and thank you for reading and the comment my friend. Our fathers had to overcome a ugly world. We must ensure. Our world for our children is better.

[Ken e Bujold]

the sins of fathers do indeed instruct us in many ways Coyote. The bravery of this piece of writing is a testament to that very fact. To expose your own open wounds, to the depth that you have is something to be admired greatly

ken

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Ken. Took my father 50 years to quit drinking and find peace.