Dada’s Seed 2:

I was the eldest of the two sons born to Dada

and to Mam but I will not see the light,

not after today, my Dada has shoved me

in a hessian sack and, with Nuncle Pat,

to the river he now drags me.

The Hessian sack’s opening

is tied tight like a white knuckled fist

holding the universe closed

so the big, big bang

fizzles, splutters and goes out.

In the bag I cling to the memory

of the brightest sunlight

and try not to replay over

and again the  howling screams

of my poor old tortured Mam:

She who cried and screamed

and best fists upon Nuncle Pat’s back

and Dada’s head; received back a slap

and a kick and then fell

to the ground uncomforted and defeated.

I pleaded with my Dada but this is what he said,

‘Fear not my son, or do, but fear not for long

soon the hessian with breathe in water

and your soft lungs will lose the battle -

I’ll be sad to see you go

but not as sad as the relentless pain

my memories of my own Da bring to me

and so you see, drowning son of mine,

we pass on the pain  - seed to seed,

deed by deed, so adieu then drowning one.’

The ground tries to hold on to me -

I feel its earthy fingers in every bump and scrape

and I know the water will not be so kind;

it will gently devour me

where the land has only held me upright.

And then I heard my Dada’s voice one final time

as he cried again, ‘good bye my son,’

And Nuncle Pat gave me a favorable kick

and shouted ‘you could have been

the best of the lot of ‘em.’

I feel my body in the sack

lifted high like a leaf upon the wind

and then I feel the movement in the hurl,

feel the weigh leave me for a moment

and then the sound of water and sack colliding.

I sink and it grows darker by the moment

as I am embraced by the cold clammy hands

of water - or is that of death –

spreading across my skin, and soon,

I know, into the very heart of me.

‘Oh my Dada, this did not have to be,

Oh my Mam how can you

have chosen this man as the sower

of your seeds, could you not see the deeds

in the shadows of his smile?’

The darkness is all but complete now, the water

wipes the air from my chest, takes my life

along with it, I feel it now

gushing out past my toes and

my shivering finger tips.

Into the vortex, into the hessian’s oblivion,

into the sound of the river and of maws

of the worms awaiting me

and I wish I could have held the hand

of my babe brother one final time.