The Book of Songs: BOOK I

Song 3
Commandments
A song of adolescence.

HONOR thy father and thy mother;
that it may be well with thee,
and thou mayest live long
upon the earth.

My father’s nurture has always
been sifted through a sieve
of self-hatred, overly salted with
quick fists, generously powdered with
emotional neglect, funneling into
me as unenriched flour falling
heavily upon the meager mounds
of self-esteem in the bowl of my soul.

My mother’s intentions are as pure
as a baby’s first breath, but her words
are forever piercing, sharp needles
that slide under my skin drawing out
pints of patience from veins clotting
with sweet bitterness.

Honor they father and they mother;
that it may be well with thee,
and thou mayest live long
upon the earth.

Daddy, you say,
I love you.
Please forgive me.
I want you to be happy.
But, Daddy, all you do
is say all of this, and give
nothing whatsoever at all.

You treat me like a prodigal son
who can’t find his way.
I’m kneading the dough
of my own life, but
it’s too salty for you,
it’s too dry for you,
and it just won’t rise high enough
for you.

Mama, you say,
I love you.
I miss you.
I want to know you.
But, Mama, you also say,
If you ever get sick and
I have to take care of you,
I’ll cut all that hair off your head.

You, meanwhile, cut off the
circulation of our union,
condescending adult to child,
instead of sharing woman to man.

Respect thy sons and thy daughters;
that it may be well with thee,
and thou mayest be honored long
upon the earth.