Tag Archives: poetry

This World Is Not My Home by Jeremy Paden (part 2) | Esse Diem

My high school years were a procession of medical mission and Habitat for Humanity work groups. Two, three, even more, a year would come down. When I wasn’t working the makeshift pharmacy, stuffing bags full of medicine, giving children swigs of mebendezole, explaining the doctor’s instructions to patients and having them recite them back to me, I was translating for doctors, dentists, nurses, or house building crews. People came and went. A week of work, a day at the beach, and they were gone.

via This World Is Not My Home by Jeremy Paden (part 2) | Esse Diem.

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Filed under Essays on Childhood: In a Man's Voice, Writing

This World Is Not My Home by Jeremy Paden (part 1) | Esse Diem

Like my father, I am an American citizen born abroad and declared at a consulate soon after my birth. By the time I left for college, I’d lived on three continents, one isthmus, and one archipelago. Another way of adding this up is six countries, four U.S. states, ten cities, and around 18 discreet residences, not counting the bed under my aunt and uncle’s stairs in Goleta, California, where I worked as a security guard for an RV camp and at a roadside organic food stand the eight months before heading off to college.

via This World Is Not My Home by Jeremy Paden (part 1) | Esse Diem.

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Filed under Essays on Childhood: In a Man's Voice, Writing

Men, Writing, Expression: Their Way | Esse Diem

John from thebeautifuldue

I loved reading this poem the first time and have re-read it several times since. It is a combination by the poet of “several male sources.” While it could be the experience of just one man’s childhood influence, it pulls together pieces of various lives to tell the story that may very well speak many men.

via Men, Writing, Expression: Their Way | Esse Diem.

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Filed under Essays on Childhood: Creative. Nonfiction. Writers., Essays on Childhood: In a Man's Voice, Writers, Writing

Boy – a poem by John Lavan | Esse Diem

Boy – a poem by John Lavan | Esse Diem.

Boy

I am alive; talk to me,
voices can sing to me, harmonise bass with me, make up the words to a ballad or yarn with me, loudly embark with me.

I am alive, laugh with me,
fall down and wrestle me, sport, spin and tumble your oneness in tune with me. Love me as I love me.

I am alive, approach me,
feel for the guffaw; believe that the bellies of folly live on in me, rhyming me, glance at me sideways and hope to encroach on me.

I am alive, notice me,
play up in mischief and open the windows for breezes to blow at me. Let me uphold you and so you can bolster me.

I am alive; distract me
in every direction, the clowning comes through to me. Shatter the eggs with me, clean up the mess with me, wear a chef’s hat for me.

I am alive; melt with me,
growl out a giggle and tickle me. Sparkle and yes with me. Make a fine mess with me. Yes with me. Yes with me.

John Lavan is a small businessman from Yorkshire with a 10 year passion for poetry. His main inspiration comes from his son, Andrew, who has Down’s Syndrome. He has won prizes in poetry competitions and been published in several magazines.

Many thanks to John for generously granting Esse Diem the privilege of posting this poem, which originally appeared on Natterjack, an online magazine of new writing, in prose and in verse, edited by Michael Bruce.

Visit John’s blog Real Poems to read more of his wonderful work, and follow him on Twitter, @Toltecjohn.

 

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