Does this poem make anyone else emotional? Don't you think it is very well written?

To a Sad Daughter by Michael Ondaatje


I love this poem it is great. What do you think?








All night long the hockey pictures


gaze down at you


sleeping in your tracksuit.


Belligerent goalies are your ideal.


Threats of being traded


cuts and wounds


--all this pleases you.


O my god! you say at breakfast


reading the sports page over the Alpen


as another player breaks his ankle


or assaults the coach.





When I thought of daughters


I wasn't expecting this


but I like this more.


I like all your faults


even your purple moods


when you retreat from everyone


to sit in bed under a quilt.


And when I say 'like'


I mean of course 'love'


but that embarrasses you.


You who feel superior to black and white movies


(coaxed for hours to see Casablanca)


though you were moved


by Creature from the Black Lagoon.





One day I'll come swimming


beside your ship or someone will


and if you hear the siren


listen to it. For if you close your ears


only nothing happens. You will never change.





I don't care if you risk


your life to angry goalies


creatures with webbed feet.


You can enter their caves and castles


their glass laboratories. Just


don't be fooled by anyone but yourself.





This is the first lecture I've given you.


You're 'sweet sixteen' you said.


I'd rather be your closest friend


than your father. I'm not good at advice


you know that, but ride


the ceremonies


until they grow dark.





Sometimes you are so busy


discovering your friends


I ache with loss


--but that is greed.


And sometimes I've gone


into my purple world


and lost you.





One afternoon I stepped


into your room. You were sitting


at the desk where I now write this.


Forsythia outside the window


and sun spilled over you


like a thick yellow miracle


as if another planet


was coaxing you out of the house


--all those possible worlds!--


and you, meanwhile, busy with mathematics.





I cannot look at forsythia now


without loss, or joy for you.


You step delicately


into the wild world


and your real prize will be


the frantic search.


Want everything. If you break


break going out not in.


How you live your life I don't care


but I'll sell my arms for you,


hold your secrets forever.





If I speak of death


which you fear now, greatly,


it is without answers.


except that each


one we know is


in our blood.


Don't recall graves.


Memory is permanent.


Remember the afternoon's


yellow suburban annunciation.


Your goalie


in his frightening mask


dreams perhaps


of gentleness.

Does this poem make anyone else emotional? Don't you think it is very well written?
wow, I'm speechless :( i love it
Reply:By the time i got to the end,i had lost the plot,no offense,it did nothing for me.
Reply:never write poems this long!





it would be a great short story though


whats great with poems is that its short and simple
Reply:sweeeeeeeeeeeeep..go Red Wings
Reply:no, i don't know what it means and it did not make me emotional