Happy Birthday, Kwame Dawes! | Poems Rethabile Likes

Happy Birthday, Kwame Dawes! | Poems Rethabile Likes
🎂 Happy Birthday, Kwame Dawes!
Poet • Novelist • Critic • born 28 July 1962

Today we celebrate the birthday of Kwame Dawes — a Ghanaian-Jamaican poet, novelist, and critic. Here is his tender and devastating poem, "Cleaning," an act of love and dignity between a son and his father.

Cleaning After a while, you don't bother with the brief and the pajamas; you leave him on the sheet, make him shit himself, then shift over to the other side until I can come, lift up the body, wipe his bottom with a soft cotton cloth, bundle up the sheet with two more in the corner, straighten out the plastic over the mattress— sometimes you have to wipe it, too, then put a towel under him until the other sheet dry, and all the time, you don't say a word, you don't ask for nothing. You let your hand brush against your father's back and pray his dignity will last another day. This is how a man must care for his father; quiet, casual, and steady.
Kwame Dawes (b. 1962) is a Ghanaian-Jamaican poet, novelist, and critic. He is the author of numerous collections, including Progeny of Air (1994), Gomer's Song (2007), and City of Bones: A Testament (2017). He is a professor of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln and the founding director of the African Poetry Book Fund. His work explores identity, memory, and the complexities of family.

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Comments

cloudhand said…
Ah man! That's SO sad! Exactly what I couldn't bring myself to do with my mother. Thank you for the reminder.
Rethabile said…
I know what he means, and what you mean. Tough stuff. Unforgettable.
Abigail George said…
Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art.... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.
C.S. Lewis

Isaiah 8:1: "And the Lord said to me, 'Take a large tablet and write on it in common characters...'"

To love a parent, requires love, unconditional love, sacrifice and acceptance. The parent becomes the child, the child, the parent. This poem is a testimony. How I relate, how I relate. I have no regrets concerning this period of my life. I am unashamed of it, to be a fulltime caregiver, the last act of love, to make my own father's life comfortable after facing a cancer diagnosis is what I live for.

Thank you Rethabile for this poem. I am being introduced to poets and poetry I have never been exposed to before. Heartfelt thanks, my brother.