My Father's Calliper (200th post)

Andrew McGeever · Post by **Andrew McGeever** » Tue Mar 18, 2003 12:28 am

This is my 200th post, and my 4th(?) poem on the message board. I wrote it around November last year and, to date, remains unpublished, though I've read it in public.
This is for Elizabeth, whose voluminous correspondence is awesome, and whose anti-war stance I applaud.

My Father's Calliper.

Dad always dragged his right foot;
the left would lead with confidence,
take the weight of his imbalance.
Genuflections, brief though frequent,
made him wince: kneeling caused him pain,
especially the rosary, performed
through duty, recited in faith.

He wore a calliper on his leg.
I never saw him naked, but
one night I kept awake, crept into
his bedroom, took the contraption
back to mine, for a closer look:

thick leather, steel-buckled straps,
joined by tensile springs too hard
to stretch, all bolted to a boot. I wept,
recoiled in shame for invading
his privacy, his dignity, his war.

lizzytysh · Post by **lizzytysh** » Tue Mar 18, 2003 1:26 am

Dear Andrew ~

Thank you from the depths of my heart for such an honourable linking with both your father and one of his many personal sacrifices to the war. Your poem honours his privacy, his dignity, his war ~ and the permanence of his role in it. Your poem is profound and strong; your observations create a clear and precise vision of a man driven by personal honour; and your words speak to your own sensitivity and understanding of that generational trait.

Thank you.

~ Elizabeth

Kush · Post by **Kush** » Tue Mar 18, 2003 4:23 pm

Andrew,
Thank you for sharing this poem. There is a somber grace about it and a very matter-of-fact narrative prose-like sense of timing that I like. The emotion is expressed only in the very final lines.
Irrespective of my opinions, I appreciate that you display your poems only when you have a statement to make. It is not just 'for the sake of the poem.'

lizzytysh · Post by **lizzytysh** » Tue Mar 18, 2003 9:17 pm

"Somber grace" is a most-befitting and excellent description, Kush and Andrew....and the poem itself definitely makes its point. Its matter-of-factness [so true] makes even more powerful the emotion that comes, without sentimentality or apology, at the end.

Andrew McGeever · Post by **Andrew McGeever** » Thu Mar 20, 2003 2:01 am

Dear Elizabeth,
I think you missed the point about the poem: it wasn't "in honour" of my or anyone else's father. It is not a slice of auto-biography. It is a poem which addresses questions of revelation, new-found knowledge, and the price to be paid by the child. The movement/ dynamic in the poem lies in the act made by the child, and the realisation that the relationship with the father can never be the same again: a "rite of passage" experience of growing up. At least I think that's what the poem's about, but it did take a life of its own, which makes for closer reading by the writer.
The poem surprised me: I'll have to look at it again.
Yours,
Andrew

lizzytysh · Post by **lizzytysh** » Thu Mar 20, 2003 5:31 am

WoW, Andrew.....well, I guess maybe I did. If this is not autobiographical, it certainly did take on a life of its own, with you inside it. I fully believed it to be in honour of your father, though the discovery and rite of passage are certainly there. I can see everything you've said here as to its elements, dynamic, purpose, and meanings, though I read into it more, or not enough...not sure which way to go with that. You've certainly added some new dimensions to it, particularly if it's not autobiographical. [How did you do that?] Thanks. Excellent poem, which I see as being just as symbolic, if I may, of the inexorable and indelible "rite of passage" the soldiers are fast approaching. I nominate you as the final judge. It's your poem and one I'm glad you've written, and feel very honoured to be linked with.

~ Elizabeth

Byron · Post by **Byron** » Sun Mar 23, 2003 12:47 am

Can I say that we all wear 'callipers' which both help and restrict our passage through this life. Sometimes we have to see the other person's constrictions before we have any real appreciation of our own. Only then can we realise that we will never be 'whole' in this life, but always striving to attain a personal balance within ourselves and with others?
This poem acts on me like transcendental meditation, in that it takes me to places I never expect to go to, and am always surprised at the depth of colour which greets me.
Thank you Andrew. (we still have its companions, for which we thank you again)

Andrew McGeever · Post by **Andrew McGeever** » Mon Mar 24, 2003 9:05 pm

Dear Byron,
Thankyou for your reply: the attention you gave to "calliper" gave me food for thought. It certainly added to my surprise about this poem.
But I must return to the CHILD: I feel that the child realises that his/her world has changed, not because of anything the father has done or failed to do, but on account of one act of "shame"(sic). The child would love to return to innocence, and realises that this is now impossible.
Please read my reply to Elizabeth , re "a rite of passage".
I don't want to be stuck in my own mindset about this poem: I welcome other contributions from forum members.
Yours, as aye,
Andrew.

Byron · Post by **Byron** » Mon Mar 24, 2003 10:08 pm

Andrew, thanks for widening my perspective.
I don't know if you've read any of Seamus Heaney's work.
One of his pieces is entitled 'Digging' and touches on a similar theme.
I hope I don't tread on toes here or anywhere else, if I give it to the forum.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

It continues for six more verses.
I find that your 'Child' and Heaney's 'Childhood' are very similar in their appreciation of times now lost and feelings now understood.
I have no difficulty in placing your work and Heaney's in a comparative response from my viewpoint. Please accept my gratitude for reminding me of our journey through life.

Andrew McGeever · Post by **Andrew McGeever** » Tue Mar 25, 2003 2:30 am

Dear Byron,
I am both gob-smacked and honoured that you quoted Seamus Heaney in reply to my post: oh yes, I have read his work ( Opened Ground, Poems 1966-1996 , published by Faber and Faber ).
"Digging" comes from his "Death of a Naturalist", 1966.
At the end of "Opened Ground" is the text of his acceptance speech when he received the Nobel Prize for literature in 1995. I re-read that speech tonight, thanks to you, and unearthed other treasures which dig into the soul of the reader.
It's getting late: I have work tomorrow.
As aye,
Andrew