I Wish It Was That Simple

“tat,tat,tat” gurgles from his mouth
fourteen months in this world
concerned only with the navigation
of his wagon around the coffee table
the sound of the birdies songs
outside the window
his only distraction
laying down for a nap
giggling in his security
playing with his toes
curiously smiling at me
while I cry at people
jumping out of windows
one hundred floors up
and whisper
“I wish it was that simple
I wish it was that simple”

Photo Credit: Abode of Chaos via Compfight cc

John Michael Antonio

John Michael Antonio is a freelance writer, photographer, poet and screenwriter. He claims his Midwestern roots while at the same time admitting his incurable and insatiable love and addiction for all things New York City. He has been the husband to his wife, the love of his life, for almost thirty years and is a father of three wonderful children. He is an unapologetic male feminist as well as a passionate lover of fashion, art, movies and music from all eras and genres. An endless dreamer, John Michael is also an avid historian, ex-punk rocker and a legendary Internet surfer who sleeps, on average, about four hours a day. His main personal website, The World of John Michael Antonio, can be found at www.johnmichaelantonio.wordpress.com

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John Michael Antonio is a freelance writer, photographer, poet and screenwriter. He claims his Midwestern roots while at the same time admitting his incurable and insatiable love and addiction for all things New York City. He has been the husband to his wife, the love of his life, for almost thirty years and is a father of three wonderful children. He is an unapologetic male feminist as well as a passionate lover of fashion, art, movies and music from all eras and genres. An endless dreamer, John Michael is also an avid historian, ex-punk rocker and a legendary Internet surfer who sleeps, on average, about four hours a day. His work has also been featured on The Good Men Project.

8 thoughts on “I Wish It Was That Simple

  1. I will tell you Kitt that this poem is one of my proudest achievements in the sense that I feel that I completely captured that awful and terrible moment in time with my words. I can’t read it without feeling the incredible sadness that I felt that day. So glad that you could relate to it my friend.

  2. My son was 14 months old back then, too. We were on vacation in Hawaii, watching it happen on the television. Travelers gathered together in the resort bar to console each other in disbelief.

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