Not for the first time, "Homage to my Father," by Seido Ray Ronci, comes to mind ... rollicking, honest and somehow soothing. There is something to be said for not vexing others with the firmament within whose palm they already rest. And yet likewise there is something to be said for lounging in the poker hand that has been dealt: Relax -- in 100 years, who'll know or care? Stand up, speak up and shut up ... shut up even when you can't shut up.
Anyway, I'm old enough to repeat myself and find excuses for the repetitions:
HOMAGE TO MY FATHER
My father said:
Fuck Father Farrell,
what does he know, that old bastard!
Study all the religions. Learn Italian.
See Venizia, Firenze, talk
to all kinds of people
and never, never think you know more
than someone else! Unless,
unless they're full of shit.
And if they are, tell them;
and if they still don't get it, fuck it,
there's nothing you can do about it.
Learn how to bake bread.
If you can make pasta and bake bread
you can always feed your family,
you can always get a job.
Keep your house clean
and don't worry what anyone else does.
Cut your grass,
prune your fruit trees
or they'll die on you.
Don't drink too much
but don't always be sober --
it makes you nervous.
A couple glasses of wine,
some anisette now and then,
a cigar never hurt nobody.
Nervous people always got an ache here,
an ache there, they get sick,
they die --
Look at Father Farrell:
he'll be dead in a year.
Fuck him!
Anyway, I'm old enough to repeat myself and find excuses for the repetitions:
HOMAGE TO MY FATHER
My father said:
Fuck Father Farrell,
what does he know, that old bastard!
Study all the religions. Learn Italian.
See Venizia, Firenze, talk
to all kinds of people
and never, never think you know more
than someone else! Unless,
unless they're full of shit.
And if they are, tell them;
and if they still don't get it, fuck it,
there's nothing you can do about it.
Learn how to bake bread.
If you can make pasta and bake bread
you can always feed your family,
you can always get a job.
Keep your house clean
and don't worry what anyone else does.
Cut your grass,
prune your fruit trees
or they'll die on you.
Don't drink too much
but don't always be sober --
it makes you nervous.
A couple glasses of wine,
some anisette now and then,
a cigar never hurt nobody.
Nervous people always got an ache here,
an ache there, they get sick,
they die --
Look at Father Farrell:
he'll be dead in a year.
Fuck him!
I was nervous as a child, then I quit caring. I was angry as an adult, but again, I've quit caring. Now I'm just tired, so I take naps.
ReplyDeleteTruth is, I don't think it's possible to quit caring. But you do learn to carry it somehow. I think I've learned to let a lot of baggage go, but the memories are forever.
ReplyDeleteAs for the mundane advice in poetry, nothing particularly insightful as far as I can tell. My father said the same things. Did most of them too.
ReplyDeleteI assume being a “Rinzai” Zen Buddhist monk he comes from either Joshu Sasaki’s lineage or Eido Shimano’s lineage. Both know sexual predators.
Nothing great about that. Did Seido-Osho at least have the guts to denounce his spiritual father / mentor?