“In My Image” published at Gobblers & Masticadores

On By Mike U.In Poetry

I’d like to announce my poem “In My Image” has been published at Gobblers & Masticadores. Sincere thanks to Juan Re Crivello and Manuela Timofte and their staff for this opportunity. I’m truly grateful. Thank you, Juan and Manuela!

“In My Image”
© 2012 by Michael L. Utley

“Father said
I have seen you in my dreams
My alabaster boy
My pristine son
Marked neither with scar nor blemish
The innocence of childhood aglow
Upon your brow like the light of
A thousand suns
Your mind untouched
By fear and the lies of men
Your future the color of
Quicksilver and autumn wheat…”

You can read the rest of my poem by clicking this link. Also, don’t forget to follow and subscribe to Gobblers & Masticadores, where you’ll find some wonderful writing and plenty of food for thought.

32 thoughts on ““In My Image” published at Gobblers & Masticadores”

    1. Thanks so much, Darlene. Yes, my personal experiece informs this poem, and you’re right–it does happen much too frequently. I appreciate your steadfast support, my friend. Thanks for stopping by to say hello. Here’s wishing you a good week ahead. 😊

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    1. Thanks, Friedrich. You’re too kind, good sir! I appreciate you and your constant support. I hope you’ve been doing well and keeping busy with your stunning creations, my friend. Here’s wishing you a good week ahead. 😊

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    1. Thanks so much, Kirsten. This was the second poem I penned after I began writing again in 2012 after a twenty-year hiatus. I had a lot to say about my dad, and I still do, as I continue to work through everything. It’s a strange poem with an almost scriptural feel to it, but I wanted to draw a contrast between the promise and potential of the opening stanzas and the harsh reality of what actually occurred. Damaged kids become damaged adults and end up having to fix problems caused by bad parents all too often. I’m a work-in-progress here.

      Thanks for your kindness, my friend. I truly appreciate you. 😊

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      1. It’s great you were able to release these emotions by word – especially after a long hiatus. Your gift of writing remained by your side. 😊 Very well written and potent. And you’re not alone, I think we’re all a work in progress.
        You’re most welcome, Mike! Hope the weather is treating you well.

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  9. I already left a comment on Gobblers, but I just had to come here and tell you that this was a truly gripping poem. A real, “take me to task” poem, asking me to look into the lies we sometimes tell ourselves about our parents. My father was a messed up dude on so many levels.

    Great writing, Mikey. 🌟🌟🌟💜

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    1. Thanks, Nigel, for the thoughtul words. Yeah, this is one of those “can opener” poems (to coin a term, perhaps)–when someone reads it, it opens up a lot of memories for some of us, and some of those memories aren’t very savory. There’s always a risk in writing such deeply personal, painful poetry in that it might trigger some horrible memories in readers. It’s never my intent to do so, but it’s sort of inevitable at times, I suppose. But, it’s good to take a hard look a things sometimes. What we discover may surprise us and enlighten us. At the end of the day, I just hope if anyone has gone through something similar, they’ll recognize a sense of solidarity when reading this piece. We’re not alone, and there are poeole who understand us.

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      1. Indeed, we aren’t alone. They aren’t alone. I think your poem does a profound service to those who struggle with expressing or even venturing near the spot where these memories are buried. 🙏🤗

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  11. Congrats on being published yet again! 👏 The poem is so well crafted, the capitalized Father and the title make us think of Father God creating us in His image, but the rest of the poem dispels that quickly. It is a sad and heartbreaking truth that human fathers (and mothers) can harm their children like this. I have seen it too many times. Healing can take decades if at all. Prayers and blessings, my dear friend. Thanks for sharing your gifts!

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    1. Many thanks, Peggy. This poem has a scriptural feel to it on purpose as our parents seem sort of like gods to us when we’re little kids–physically and emotionally domineering and (supposedly) all-knowing and trustworthy. Sadly, it’s a facade for many of us. My dad sort of had a God complex–very narcississtic and abusive (a typicall bully) and was a control-freak. So, in his mind, he believed he really was all-powerful and above reproach, and he wielded anger and violence as his personal Mjölnir (Thor’s hammer), ready and eager to smash any sense of hope or happiness or autonomy.

      Thanks as always for your kindness. I’m way behind in replying to comments at the moment but I’m getting there. 😊

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