"My father is an oyster. I pray that when he is pulled from this ocean, that those who live above the surface will see the brilliance of his pearls." Clint, this ending is magic, buzzing with hope!
My Father is an Oyster In New Orleans, seafood is as much a part of life as changing tides. I was raised between shrimp etouffee and fried catfish, learned to walk on crab legs, & was baptized in a pot of crawfish before I ever knew what one was. Still, I was always disgusted by the oysters. But my dad loved them, said that the zinc in the meat was good for your hair and that if I had seen the hairlines of the men on my mama’s side of the family-I'd better start eating up. I would later learn that an oyster's pearls are formed from foreign parasites that have breached the boundaries of its shell. To protect itself from the danger the oyster cocoons the substance in coats of calcium until the very thing that was trying to destroy it becomes the thing that makes it most beautiful. Mother nature has a funny way of teaching us. Last summer while visiting home, I went to check on my dad to see if he knew the score of the game. When I opened the door to his bedroom, I saw him lying on the ground like a broken promise genuflecting in front of a prayer. My father held his stomach, as if he had been stabbed by the very person entrusted to protect him. Betrayal has never been so silent. There is no treason like that of your own body turning against itself. Benedict Arnold with a bayonet in your bloodstream, Judas kissing your kidneys goodbye for 30 pieces of silver. Chronic kidney disease is deep sea diving with no oxygen. Drowning underwater waiting for a transplant to bring you back to the surface. But my father is an oyster, wears a shell hardened by growing up in a place where the expectations never rose above low tide. He was raised by a coral reef of a mother, who had echo of an unborn ocean on her breath. Taught him that when the waves of this world try to wear you down, it’s okay, we are all a little bit weathered. If an oyster can turn a parasite into a pearl than it is no surprise that my father can turn a kidney into calligraphy. When I was thirteen and he was first diagnosed he wrote me a 15-page letter saying that if anything happened, I had to be ready to become the man of the house. Clint, though it hasn’t always looked like it I’ve always put God first. I know you complain because Clinton Ward Smith, III makes it sound like you’re the heir to a British monarchy, but never doubt you are a king. Understand that I gave you your grandfather’s name because the most sacred things I have ever known come in trinities. Clint, love you mother like a stained glass window in a war zone. She can be both shield & shard, both weapon & protection. Treat every woman like you would want a man to treat your sister. This ocean already has enough sharks. Clint, don’t be another shark. My father is an oyster. He clasp down tightly on the things that he loves the most - his family & his God. He has a calcium-encrusted heart cradled tightly in his chest, bears scars worn from waves that have tried to erode him of this world. My father is an oyster. I pray that when he is pulled from this ocean, those who live above the surface see the brilliance of his pearls.
Just brilliant...the perfect combination of modern performance style and technically superior writing....this is what we should all strive for...amazing my friend...
good piece. only if others could make work this genuine. this is like my second favorite piece ..... sorry, but neil hilborn has one that has such beautiful imagery that just screams brilliance.
Button, I have a request! Can you please start putting transcripts of these poems either as text or as a link in the video description? I just really want to share these! I want to spread the poetry! Thanks :)
"The very thing that was trying to destroy it becomes the thing that makes it most beautiful." I believe poetry makes all our wounds beautiful.
Yes Mr. Smith!! GET ITTT!! He used to work at my high school. Making your students proud. ^_^
Wish I had a teacher like Mr Smith when I was growing up :)
easterbunny777 Wow, lucky you
Stop lying
@@pineapplecsc7717 he's not lying you could search it up he was a teacher
"My father is an oyster. I pray that when he is pulled from this ocean, that those who live above the surface will see the brilliance of his pearls." Clint, this ending is magic, buzzing with hope!
Goosebumps! I just saw brilliance!
New favorite poem right here, just fantastic
damn that is awesome. *fingers snapping aggressively*
My Father is an Oyster
In New Orleans, seafood is as much a part of life
as changing tides. I was raised between shrimp
etouffee and fried catfish, learned to walk on crab
legs, & was baptized in a pot of crawfish before
I ever knew what one was. Still, I was always
disgusted by the oysters. But my dad loved them,
said that the zinc in the meat was good for your
hair and that if I had seen the hairlines of the men
on my mama’s side of the family-I'd better start
eating up. I would later learn that an oyster's pearls
are formed from foreign parasites that have breached
the boundaries of its shell. To protect itself from
the danger the oyster cocoons the substance in coats
of calcium until the very thing that was trying to
destroy it becomes the thing that makes it most beautiful.
Mother nature has a funny way of teaching us. Last
summer while visiting home, I went to check on
my dad to see if he knew the score of the game.
When I opened the door to his bedroom, I saw him
lying on the ground like a broken promise genuflecting
in front of a prayer. My father held his stomach,
as if he had been stabbed by the very person entrusted
to protect him. Betrayal has never been so silent.
There is no treason like that of your own body turning
against itself. Benedict Arnold with a bayonet in your
bloodstream, Judas kissing your kidneys goodbye
for 30 pieces of silver. Chronic kidney disease is deep
sea diving with no oxygen. Drowning underwater
waiting for a transplant to bring you back to the surface.
But my father is an oyster, wears a shell hardened by
growing up in a place where the expectations never rose
above low tide. He was raised by a coral reef of a mother,
who had echo of an unborn ocean on her breath. Taught
him that when the waves of this world try to wear
you down, it’s okay, we are all a little bit weathered.
If an oyster can turn a parasite into a pearl than it is no
surprise that my father can turn a kidney into calligraphy.
When I was thirteen and he was first diagnosed he wrote
me a 15-page letter saying that if anything happened,
I had to be ready to become the man of the house.
Clint, though it hasn’t always
looked like it I’ve always put
God first. I know you complain
because Clinton Ward Smith, III
makes it sound like you’re the heir
to a British monarchy, but never
doubt you are a king. Understand
that I gave you your grandfather’s
name because the most sacred things
I have ever known come in trinities.
Clint, love you mother like a stained
glass window in a war zone. She can
be both shield & shard, both weapon
& protection. Treat every woman like
you would want a man to treat your
sister. This ocean already has enough
sharks. Clint, don’t be another shark.
My father is an oyster. He clasp down tightly on
the things that he loves the most - his family &
his God. He has a calcium-encrusted heart cradled
tightly in his chest, bears scars worn from waves
that have tried to erode him of this world.
My father is an oyster. I pray that when he is pulled
from this ocean, those who live above the surface
see the brilliance of his pearls.
Oh my God... this is so beautiful
Wow. I love this! Honestly, this is one of the best poems I've ever heard about a father. I wish I had something better to say than "amazing"...
left me breathless, beautiful
Thank you...
Just brilliant...the perfect combination of modern performance style and technically superior writing....this is what we should all strive for...amazing my friend...
Thank you for blessing us with your gift. Powerful words!
Incredible!!!
So proud I have this man as a coach. Beautiful writing and wonderfully motivated. Thank you Clint.
Goodness, this is just beautiful.
Holy mother of wow. That was powerful.
That was amazing. I wish i could write like that
absolutely amazing
I'd sure be proud to have a son like you!
good piece. only if others could make work this genuine. this is like my second favorite piece ..... sorry, but neil hilborn has one that has such beautiful imagery that just screams brilliance.
you rock bro
Wow this was really good, keep it up man.
Button, I have a request! Can you please start putting transcripts of these poems either as text or as a link in the video description? I just really want to share these! I want to spread the poetry! Thanks :)
A good friend's father recently died. His ashes were just cast on the waters of Puerto Rico. I sent him your poem.
Powerful.
Yup :)
clint smith is a fucking god
I saw this dude on a ted talk and I was like this dude has to be on button poetry... i was right
holy fuck this was amazing! Loved the metaphor!
This is so fuckin good.
Spectacular cap.