Special Feature: Selected Haiku and Tanka about the Different Faces of Fatherhood

                                                                                                         the foster girl

                                                                                                         colors me into her life

                                                                                                         Father's Day card

                                                                                                         Stardust, 65, May 2022

                                                                                                         Chen-ou Liu

Before I got married I had six theories about raising children; now, I have six children and no theories.

-- John Wilmot

The heart of a father is the masterpiece of nature.

-- Prevost Abbe, Manon Lescaut

My Dear Friends:

In celebration of Father's Day, I would like to share with you the following poems about the different faces of fatherhood:

Selected Haiku and Tanka:

Father's Day

the newborn's hand

curled in his

Chen-ou Liu

her tiny voice --

the apartment fills

with dad-dads

John Hawk

a toddler climbs

onto father's shoulders

to reach the kite

Goda V. Bendoraitiene

off to school --

a father and two

small umbrellas

Barry George 

crayon map

my son shows me the way

to Neverland

John McManus 

camp walk

the arc of Dad's flashlight

swings

from the pine path

to the stars

Barry George

windswept beach

my father's voice at the end

of a tin can phone

Lucy Whitehead

I’ve this memory --

riding my father’s shoulders

into the ocean,

the poetry of things

before I could speak

Michael McClintock

snow upon snow

the layers of oblivion

in my father's mind

Dietmar Tauchner

a leaf in the wind ...

the last glimpse of dad 

from my window

Marion Alice Poirier

the corner beggar

his blue eyes

like my father's

Barbara Sabol 

father and I

sit under his avocado tree ...

he turns to speak

and I wake up wishing

it wasn’t a dream

Sonam Chhoki

To conclude today's Special Feature post, I would like to share with you my tanka set below:

An Ocean Away, Worlds Apart

for my father who passed away on January 5th in Taiwan

I circle

round and round the edges

of something 

inside me, unarticulated ...

seven weeks since Father died

(FYI: The typical mourning period after a Chinese funeral is 49 days after death)

on my cellphone

the gravestone wet with dew ...

this grief for dad

is it actually love 

with nowhere to go?

Chen-ou

Note: Below is the first poem I wrote for my father:

Our Dreams

For my father and his generation who gave up their dreams to pursue the National Dream for the Chinese people

Six decades ago, there was a civil war in China. The ruling Chinese Nationalist Party, the Kuomintang, was defeated by the Chinese Communists. Chairman Chiang Kai-shek retreated with his troops to Taiwan, where he hoped to regroup quickly and retake mainland China. My father was a first lieutenant in Chiang’s military troops, and, like the majority of mainland Chinese in Taiwan, shared with him this same illusion.

When I started grade four, my father decided I was old enough to learn the good soldier's essential lesson: obey orders and don’t ask questions. But I didn’t want to be a soldier. They looked dumb to me.

One day, my father tried several times to teach me how to salute, but I couldn’t get my hand straight enough. He ordered me to stand in front of the portrait of our ancestors. He shouted at me, “Stand straight and still until our ancestors are satisfied and smile; or else you must apologize to them for failing to follow through on my words: to salute properly. Then you can go.”

I stood for hours, but they wouldn't smile at or for me. Finally, I couldn’t bear it any longer and fainted. Later, when I woke up, I saw my father's eyes brimming with tears.

into the Taiwan Strait

Father rides on my shoulders

midsummer dream

Contemporary Haibun Online, 7:3, October 2011