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Elegy Mother Poems | Elegy Poems About Mother

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Details | Elegy | |

sweet baby girl

Sweeter than a flower special as could be
A little girl softly asleep
Kneeling in prayer singing a tune
Beautiful young one baby girl
See her face glowing
Know that she's going to a better place
Surrounded by angels
Near the pearly gates
Safely in the sacred arms
Looking up at Jesus face
Sweeter than a flower
Special as could be
A little girl softly asleep
Close your eyes right now
See her going
To a better place
Your little baby girl


Details | Elegy | |

Today

today, I die. 
 Don't Cry, this is the way it is. Don't cry, it's ok.
I'm ready.  it's so different, when you know you have to go.  everything seems so...so pointless.  All I ever stressed about, thought about, and cried about, gone.  All I can think about is what lies ahead.  In a moment I'll begin my journey into an eternal world. Where my past decisions guide me to my destination. What will heaven be like? Will I get to Heaven?  A couple of minutes all I could think about was my mother.  How dare she do what she did!  A couple of minutes ago, all I could think about was how long before I moved away.  How quick that has all changed.  My anger brought my actions. and now I lay, I lay here...hopeless. Don't cry.  I know I made my mark.  And I'll always remain, in your hearts......I sat there in church, in front of a coffin, a man.  Stitched lips and powdered face.  I saw what death brought, and felt nothing.  I sat, watching, staring, as some mourned.  Not me.  I sat there watching, gazing.  Around me, someone was sad, not because of death, but because she lost her cell phone.  In front of me lay death, and around me, no one cared.  Will I matter. will people lose their cell phones at my funeral. Mother: I'm sorry.  I know for 16 years you've done your best.  Mother I'm sorry, I want you to know.  I did notice all the things you did for me.  You'd give yourself to not lose me.  A working woman, a mother of three.  I noticed.  I love you mom, don't cry.  dad.  you weren't there much, most of my life. its ok.  I know that if you could, you would.  dad, don't cry.  I hold no grudges.  for all of you that I talked to, for mom, for dad, for my sisters, and for YOU, don't cry.  i have to go now.  God.. I'm ready. I'm sorry, I know I messed up...but I was good.  Today...I die. it's ok. I'm ready.  My whole body...It's warm, a sensation, a tingle, a swarm.  now.. I die its ok don't cry, I’m ready.


Details | Elegy | |

Eternity

Eternity

Many times, I saw my spirit.
Many times, I felt my soul.
In life, I lived courageous.
Now it is time for me to journey home.

If you cry, that is fine.
If you laugh, that is better than a cry.
Rejoice in my life and shout praise.

For I am 
Therefore, I shall be
In peace, I leave this world.
To my love ones, I am with the Lord.

Sure happy to have lived
Not sad that my time has come
The benevolence of the spiritual realm is a breeze from a waterfall.

The Lord is my keeper.
He called me home.
No more sadness let us all rejoice.

Ms. Carrie Mae Sexton is now reunited with Jehovah God Lord.  A woman of statue... 
A woman of worth... All that knew her will truly miss her.

Never a life lost but one done with the world and because she walked a virtuous path, her life is shown.  The Lord knows best and we must know the same.   Our mother sojourns and in peace, she lays.

[“Be assured that just as an hour is only part of a day so life on Earth is only part of eternity.” C.L. Allen]

User Name: Verlena
Psuedonym: Oblivion Dark Sunshine
Motif: Grief and Bereavement

-Contest Enter: Space & Time - Metaphorically written... Eternity is space and time...  February 2014


Details | Elegy | |

ELEGY TO LOST CHILD

                                        Elegy to Child Lost


                                 Passion's love oft tempts despair
                                 Casts a prideful cosmic dare--
                                 Like Prizing Joy's most intimate caress
                                 Babe snug beneath a mother's breast

                                Senses at this time are keen
                                There's no secret kept between
                                Loving mother, wriggling babe--
                                Wanted , dreamed of, much delayed
                                But entwined twin was also loved--
                                Some say Nature's method proves
                                That one twin may give all to mate---
                                But this fatal sacrifice must decimate.

                                Only mother's eyes would feel babe's smiles--
                                or sense those legs that wandered miles
                                And daring feet that danced in tunes while
                                Arms swam in gentle Celtic croons.

                                When babe vanished--not  a sound.
                                Mother 's grief was not allowed.
                                Tempted so to trail behind
                                Escaping shattered troubled mind. 

                                Squelching sorrow's hungry arms
                                She Tried erase babe's fluttering charms
                                Never spoke of-- never mourned.
                                By her husband she was warned
                                Was best forget a child so early lost--
                                Funerals, gravestones--such a cost--

                                But the years have called babe near,
                                Mother's journal writ in tears:
                                'Please forgive my selfish heart.
                                Repressed from all --this tragic part
                                I felt your sacrificial act--
                                You left your cherished twin intact'.

                                There is no law of random acts
                                Doctors examine data facts
                                It may be --that in the womb
                                When both spring flowers cannot bloom
                                One bold twin refrains to eat
                                Compels the other to complete
                                Hardy growth that life requires---
                                Sparks survival's crucial hours.

                                Not an accident 'tis sure--
                                Boldest spirits blossom pure.


Victoria Anderson-Throop ©


Details | Elegy | |

My Chick

You’re skin and bones, chick.
Compassion commands me stop, 
stare, on my path, where you sleep.
I see dryness, hear stillness, feel silence.

You’re skin and bones, chick.
Were your chirps for worms
silenced in unsound Mother’s ears?
Your wings, too weak,
too still, on your first, failed, flight?
Your plume-less limbs
Coverless in cold night?

Uncovered corpse, bony chick.
No shore water to wash away
your undug green grave
in a low, lonely juniper.
My eyes wash me in salt water.

I have a path; yours ends here
your bones sinking, my brain soaring.	
Which frightened robin, fleeing my footsteps,
was your  misguided mother? So unlike mine, 
who saw her child, underfed, and said,
“You’re skin and bones, my chick.”


Details | Elegy | |

Elegy: ''Dear Mother, I cherished your love--''

Dear Mother, I cherished your love;
     so when you passed away I wept.
As your spirit rose up above
     my many tears, which felt inept,
flowed as we began to remove
     your cold, lifeless corpse as it slept.

We then assembled for your wake,
     a light event. It was not sad
or grave as we gathered to make
     and pay our respects and be glad:
as you laid there to never wake
     I worried, What if I go mad!?

Then, all too soon, the funeral
     took place on a cold, wintry morn--
all knew their place on arrival.
     I wept for you, tearful and torn,
as the service and burial
     left me feeling numb and stillborn.	


Details | Elegy | |

Rondelet: Yang be evil

Rondelet: Yang be evil

  for the continuously raped and hidden
     minors of India

Yang be evil
Yin acts with rash impunity 
Yang be evil
No power controls the Devil
Wombs despoiled in mad enmity
Innocence: raped humanity
Yang be evil

(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2012


Details | Elegy | |

I expect her to know

I don’t want to write about my mom,
She suffered in pain before she died,

But she always said she smiled when I did
Until the pain came and took her away.

She loved me, though never said such things
I loved her sometimes, I expected  her to know,

On the evening,  the night she died
Someone advised I should place my hand on her head

And tell, I love you mom,
I was not sure if she will hear or know.

Still I placed my hand and said, I love you mom,
There was pain in her eyes, she said nothing.

I traveled in the same hearse;
Expecting no one to see,  I place my hand one more time, 

And said, I love you mom -
She showed no pain or regret, nor she gave away her smile,

I even tried smiling that she may,
I waited the long dismal journey. 

I don’t want to write about my mom,
I expect her to know.


Details | Elegy | |

Mom-N-Me

While watching "Name That Tune" reruns
I taste the garlic she used to put in the Beef Stew...
Thinking and laughing
about something we had done together...
Bittersweet mem'ries of days gone by...
She was my Mother, and now she's gone,
but she lives on in me.
Her mannerisms...her smile,
her eccentric ways of cleaning...
Her mood swings...laughter..tears...
Her struggle with alcoholism,
and my triumph over it.
I loved her dearly.

In loving memory of
Della Jeannette Ham 
9/24/20 to 10/20/94


Details | Elegy | |

Flown and Gone in Gentle Grace

 "What incarnation is this?"
A July sun breaks my winter sleep,
  And ghosts in the fog are my only peace!
That early morning hoar chills
  The flesh and marrow, and the rains
Of discontent neither cleanse nor cease

  I hear "Caramba Chico!"
This room, it reminds me so of you:
  See the picture portrait - your silky hair,
The dark ceramic lamp of rings,
  Your canvas brush stroke, your books
Upon your shelf, your lonely empty chair

  Verily so in older days
A dry Penfolds filled your sherry glass,
  When you of me did ask "is the table set?"
And I ask what's for dinner - pelau
  Or maybe ham and hops to thankful fill,
But you say "boy, tonight is macafouchette"

 "Christopher Columbus!"
Garden earth and buds dug in kneeling;
  How you liked upon the cuttings to tread,
Or in slow quiet pause gently sip
  A tall sparkling shandy, light a cigarette,
Write a letter, or turn an epic page unread

 "Goodness Gracious Me!"
Stolen moments to drudgery escape
  In the garage pedaling the potters wheel.
Alas, into muddy clay buried
  Great burden and pain! I remember well,
Dear mother, how contented it made you feel

  As the hour grew late
I would camp upon your bed a while:
  Lay beside you - feel your warm breath,
And there watch you read 
  Of love, life and loss - but "Aye Caramba" 
Nigh was your own tale of sorrow and death

 "Murderation! Is that so?"
A great reckoning there was to come;
  No saving, no dream, no respite evermore!
Keeper, but not mine to keep -
  Healer, but not yours to heal: I would not
Get to say goodbye till on your grave I swore

 "Jumping Jehoshaphat!"
Out of the land of Isla de la Trinidad
  Landed wooden crates of jars from home;
But filled was I by your cup,
  Its love and succour real and everlasting,
And yet passed is a glory buried in the loam

  Oh, how the music played,
Closer and louder the beating drums:
  Calypso Rose the calypso queen to be!
When we at Carnival '78 danced
  Down Frederick Street; but the music 
Died, and now I long for its sweet melody

 "Ah chuts!" Not hug, not kiss, 
Not gaze passed between us ever again
  But for last sad audience in lifeless trace!
And in wings of sudden flight
  You were like a Blue Emperor Butterfly 
On the wind flown and gone in gentle grace

                --------------

    31st May 1932 - 20th July 1978

                 

Dedicated to my mother who used
Some wonderful expressions.



     
July 1993


Details | Elegy | |

Rythm of a prayer

Let me sing this song
Dozens words in my yearning rhythm
Delivered within the wind of autumn
A single pray, only for you

In this moment of silence
Bearing clearly in my mind
The love we have given one another
In our years of sharing

You embraced me with endless love
A love that cannot be compared
And it lights my sky forever
Made me a woman I am

We are destined to have each other
Since my first breath, until your last
So I sing this song for you,
Mother.


Details | Elegy | |

The Closet

Doubled up,
Hunched and hollowed;
Concealed, sitting in this musty closet.

Clutching memories to my chest and
Spreading out the others across this
Dusty darkened floor.
So dim, like these remembrances...

Straining to see through tears and years.
Some deeper wounds don’t fade with time,
Like yours, sweet long gone child of mine.

Advised against this self infliction,
I cannot stay away from my secret addiction.
Infused with your smells and special things,
I force myself to keep you here with me.
Inside my heart and this compartment.

Watching you grow in my imagination: older, taller.
Exquisite bittersweet daydreams
Of you still here and needing me.

So, gently back into the box my treasure;
Rest for now…time is not measured.
Soon I’ll return and once again
Hold your glossy framed grin
Against my broken heart.


Details | Elegy | |

On The Road To Heaven { Mom's Elegy }

<                    We are gathered here today to celebrate Bernadine Goerlich's life
                      Though taken from us to soon she has now risen to be with the Lord
                      Do not fret for greif and sorrow shall pass too
                      Let us bow our heads and pray 
                      In thy name of the Father Son And Holy Spirit  {Amen }

                      At the tender age of 70 she lived her life to the fullest
                      Raising a family of 10 she always had an xtra room
                      For she loved her God family friends and her beloved pets
                      And even heard of her always baking cakes cookies pies and italian foods
                      She really must of had her hands full with 5 boys and 5 girls

                      For Lord please cradle her in your everlasting arms
                      Wash away her sins and lift her spirit to you
                      For she has earned her wings of golden tone
                      And  now can rejoiced with her own Father and Mother
                      In God's jubliee Kingdom  Let us pray {Amen]


Entry For
Dr. Ram's
Elegy Contest
G.L. All



In Loving Memory Of Mom
{1934 - 2005 }


Details | Elegy | |

Tears of the Broken

Introduction: At some point of our lives, someone close to us departs off to the next
phase. We think of the good times and try not to think the bad; but sometimes it haunts us
back to how we responded in a naive way for our juvenile wishes. And sometimes we see them
in our dreams at the utmost optimism and glory. But the fact that we get to realize what
we did back then may have cherished and broken their souls in some ways, we always wonder
if we could alter the deeds that wounded their affection in our times of immaturity…And
pray that we get a second chance to do so for our next life. *the first two lines have some inspiration from another piece*



Even if our hearts were as strong as a storm, we’d still feel a little bit sad Knowing that we’ve lost our grandfather, our friend, our dad. For so many years, we’ve felt their presence In so many ways, we’ve felt complete, But truly, even if we deny – We sometimes skip a heartbeat. Our lives are nothing but their memories and their art, Orbiting us each day, reminding us of who we are Where we stand and to whom we belong, We pray and cry up oceans for them night after night Praying to be together just one more time, in the worlds of light. But yes you are so fortunate, that you got to leave, You’ve made it to the greater step, I pray for us to meet. May your soul be blessed and may it shine brighter than the sun, Again and again ‘I love you’ it’s not a lie, I may not have said it that much But I hope you knew inside, even if I may have been unkind as such Nothing is left for us to do but feel the tears stream down our eyes For we, once in a while have broken their hearts with one or two lies, Their face glows and vividly fades away from our dreams those nights That’s when we fall, fall down to our knees, pray for we could have changed The ways we reacted back in those days. Thoughts of those moments, thoughts of their sorrow smile Now makes us realize how we never cared, For that to overcome, we treasure the good times we’ve shared, The times we’ve heard them say “You’ve made me proud” The times we’ve felt them lay their hands, oh so be crowned. Their tender touch, their forgiveness Their blessings for us and their happiness, We pray to feel it all again Bring it all again, To the eternal life, after this time.


Details | Elegy | |

My Kashmir Burns (Part 1)

I picture Kashmir through lightened KL. News of another massacre darkens my eyes
Winds are thirsty there. They continue to taste the young blood.
I groom myself with exquisite things,
Sipping ice tea in ac room, I comfort myself
And Kashmir burns. Kashmir set ablaze

I can smell the warm blood of beaten corpse
Where from winds bought this smell. Somewhere Karbala reborn.
Mosques are being slammed
There windows stoned. And the black boots leave their footprints on Mimber
Even God judges on evidence
There is one Imaam left now; he hides her daughters in his shadow
A blunt knife in his hands; soon he will sacrifice them to keep their innocence
Kashmir is burning. Kashmir is bleeding
And I write.

Army jeep chases the tracks. To find the associated bodies
They are alive now. Soon they will be dead
From Patan to Sopor, And in narrow passages of nostalgic downtown
Ghosts of curfew
Haunt the houses for young souls.

From the Kupwara cantonments, search lights chase emptiness
Nothing is left now. Search lights can’t see inside the graves
A boy there went missing for two days. His father starts digging his grave.
I put my earphones on and I close my eyes. I sleep
While my Kashmir is ablaze
“It’s me poor farmer’s son. Kupwara’s charm, I feel no pain”.
I see him so alive in my dreams.
He chants songs of Mahjoor from his burnt lips. My hands shiver. He has no finger nails.
I see his smoke tanned skin. Same as that of Khayam’s barbeques
He stands at a distance from me. I can still smell kerosene
“Tell my mother to let her heart become cold. Her heart will not bear my state.
Tell my mother to let her eyes become blind. Her eyes will not withstand my sight.”
I follow him towards his tortured body. He tells me to follow the spilled blood.
His blood has made its own Jhelum. I row on it. Until it gets lost in black boots
The story will turn into legend. I find his body no more.

On the streets silence prevails. Nobody has permission to wail.
Sisters are beatifying coffins while brothers look for stones.
For bullets there will be stones
Kashmir is ablaze. She is wailing in grotesque tones.
In Lal Ded hospital a new born cries: Father register me at cantonment then take me out
Death is recruiting in dozens at a time.
Tomorrow is curfew. Death has no curfew pass.
How they want to identity you. Becomes your identity
People burn up all you identity cards.


Details | Elegy | |

Degeneration

Degeneration

Even now, watching you,
I try to gather the essence of your life.

Memoirs locked tightly in
A jar that clenches our united 
Soul, when I look at you.
Don’t let go.

Already gone, does your spirit
edge away?
Now when I should be saying
Goodbye,
Do I bitterly turn my back.

It’s killing me, stealing the 
Part of me that is you.

So I close my eyes
Hoping not to see,
What It’s done to you.

So I remember who you are,
Each time I play-
Pretend you are still here.

So I gather the essence of 
your life
to erase the reality of 
your death.

Even now, when I can still
Say goodbye,
I prepare memoirs of,
Your eulogy
God
Just
Don’t 
Let 
Go…………….


Details | Elegy | |

Elegy

I miss my mom...the heart of my soul!


Details | Elegy | |

RESQUICAT IN PACE

Meeting you in the court of dawn,
Yes! We played and cried on life’s lawn.

Mutating dreams to reality the task at noon,
Ordering my trembling steps to the moon
Tearing our fate at dusk
Hands of death task
Earth you depart mot my path
Resquicat in pace and in my heart


Details | Elegy | |

Summerland

She loves her family... 
her husband, her children, her pups and kitty. 
She loves the color purple. 
She loves the Goddess, 
all her special potions in their fancy bottles and jars. 
All her spices and herbs, 
sorted so neatly, labeled and placed just so. 
Her candles in their holders placed in their places around her alter.
She gets angry when anyone litters.
 "We must all respect Mother Earth, 
she takes care of us, we need to take care of her."
She likes everyone she meets, until they give her a reason not to.
She showed me where the fairies live. 
She taught me to believe in them, 
lest they die.
From Mother Earth we came, thus to Mother Earth we must return. 
She returned.
She went to the Summerlands. 
She walks on grass so cool and green, 
butterflies and fairies flitting about, 
fragrant, sweet purple flowers 
so thick, you can't help but step on them, 
but when she turns around to look, she sees they are unhurt, 
it's as if noone had passed by at all... 
of course there are purple flowers... she loves purple.


Details | Elegy | |

FINAL NESTING BOX

You lay in the wooden cot,
a broken sparrow,
Crushed. Bony. Frail.
Hair once plumed gold,
greyed to clumped feathers
like ragged  trampled wings,
strawed out on the dank pillow.
Face once blushed pink plump,
Jolly kind of soft with life,
Sucked to bone. Nose to Beak.
Echoes of the mask it will soon become.

I stroked this woman 
now bent back to foetus pose.
Once sworled to shell, 
wrapped inside myself,
Safe.
Now boned to carcass stick.

I wanted to hold one more time,
my child, 
frightened the last air would puff to nought from its hollowed breast.
But my sparrow turned and smiled,
a grimace to crack open any gates of envisaged hell.
Macabre teeth, once glowing love and laughter to the skies,
Now pecked to ochre stalks.

The pitiful bird pained to move.
Mucous mouth clacked open wide
To receive some lasting morsel of life.
Only its beady blue gaze 
flashed a soul of its former self, 
eyes to haunt the sea.
I swallowed back my tide of tears,  
waves of memory flooding sands of life we’d shared,
from fledgling dawn cry to this,
the final nesting box.

I wanted to stuff this cot with down 
of a million eider.
To cosset and hold soft this scrawn, gnawed through. 
Pluck teal, goose, swan.
‘Who would have thought it would come to this?’ it croaked a laugh.
I matched smile with smile.
I held the tiny claw.
Desperate not to cling too much to pain, 
too much to past.

I wanted to wrap up this dying bird 
Limp, in my hanky.
White folded white, fold on fold.
Run through the streets
shouting at the world, at some unseen power.
NO. 
She’s mine. She’s safe. Take me. 
What cruelty did I do?  
What evil must be stuffed in this maternal breast
To hold this daughter dust in my arms?


Details | Elegy | |

LAST MOMENTS WITH MY MUM

She was thinning 'way-
Her color going gray
While she drowned in sweat:
"Gerald, have you slept?"

Her voice so old,
And gave me the cold.
But how could I sleep
While mum's life could creep...?

I had been crying
Weeping and weeping
Silently for her-
My mother was dying..

I crept from my bed:
No lights; poor and said-
I held her weak hands-
Cold without life's tan:

I heard her breathing-
And my heart craving
For mama's good health.
"But," I asked myself:

"Why must she suffer
Near a weeping son?"
And where was father?
He was dead and gone.

I wept as I thought.
"Return to your cot,
You need a night's sleep."
She spoke, my heart leaped.

"I shall be here until
 Death is not fulfilled-
You shall never die
Else I shall ghastly cry."

She pressed me to her heart
And gave me a gent' pat.
"Gerald, please let us sleep
And my son do not weep.

"If I die, then god called
Causing weeds to come forth-
But do pray for my soul,
To rest in haven's hold."

"But mum," I cried. "do stop."
"Son," she continued. «Death 
Is inherent to life.
Death comes 'round as we strive."

I wept as i watched her shiver
While her pale lips quivered
As she struggled out, ''Goodbye.''

I took her hands in mine
Feeling them freezing, kind:
-thus ended her earthly stay,
While i still had much to say.....




Details | Elegy | |

Death of my Mother

DEATH OF MY MOTHER

As I sat upon the ground that night,
Rain and tears streaming on my fright, 
My mother was killed within my sight.
I turned to stone, she fell dead,
The mud around her turned to red,
Her hair flowed about her head –
And me.

I dreamed last night and I could see,
A shroud of death is covering me,
Born from the sadness of memory.
In the uncharted corner of my mind,
Is a child I cannot seem to find,
Lurking between shadows – hiding behind.
Me.

In the blessed relief of the coming dawn,
I know the child will then be gone,
Back to the forest like a fleeting fawn.
Then again, with the coming night,
Arise and stand within my sight,
And return the horror and the fright, 
Of me.






Details | Elegy | |

degraded to Ashes

Tho ocean smells like the tears,

salty,

as they gush down

touching her crimson lips.

the breeze dances with the sand,

tossing it around playfully.

she takes no notice.

 

Barefoot she walks into the sea,

washing away the sand,

and her life,

floating face down like a 

water lilly.

 

Ophelia, how must you torment me.

The choice must have been 

unbearable.

The sea or me.

The salt burnt away at you,

the sand must have stung

in your eyes

blinding you

to me,

watching


Details | Elegy | |

Bloodless On Mother's Day

There is a glare of stray sunlight
daring to reverberate
through spiderwebbed glass I haven't
found energy to fix
in the span of four years.
It is too much of a mirror,
too tangible a thought,
to make new.
It's lithe fingers, thin and bony, 
and mockingly bright,
steal over embossed cardstock that arrives, like clockwork,
in deepest sympathy.
And a thornless bouquet of pastels laden with
Babies Breath
only draws on blood long lost;
nobody seems to comprehend such an allegory,
or lack there of,
so it can't be carried
over the steps.




"Bloodless On Mother's Day"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith


Details | Elegy | |

To a Mother Waiting

Under a moonlit sky the calmness you long
Is slowly breathing in your heart a cool desert
Is longed by the warm wind is blown by time.
A long still surviving road ahead
And the road a high grade of shadows is gray
And the night above a quiet landscape.

It is how the moon can see you now.
Tomorrow the sun will long for you 
The longing that you were the long deep 
Breathing that you were or nothing about the glare 
Of the moonlight could ever make you see 

The soundness of waiting 
Upon the road the sun 
Will singe on a thin earth.


Details | Elegy | |

Death of a Mother

Death of a Mother

A mother’s love remembered at her grave.
Where children grieve and mourn at love’s conclave.
Her laughter and her smiles on hearts engrave.
And keep the loving memories they crave.


© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
    January 26, 2010

Poetic form: Elegy


Details | Elegy | |

Goodbye Mommy

Standing 'round the stone
waiting to say goodbye,
how do you say the words
when your heart is empty.
Nothing can prepare you
for the pain of loss
when you lose someone so
close to you.
Waiting for the words
to come forward from
your lips, yet nothing
emerges past the pain.
Then you hear a soft
voice nearby saying
that which you
cannot;
Goodbye Mommy.


Details | Elegy | |

In Honor of Teeds

Multicolored tears
For one gone too soon
And one who’s denied her hand to hold
Halfway through his journey towards manhood 

“Life’s not fair.”
She told him so
Mothers do
When teachers play favorites
Or party invitations never come
Or Christmas budgets aren’t big enough for
Wish lists. 

But this. 

It’s too big
Even for Mother. 

So we weep
And we pray
And in our naked helplessness we come
Together
Giving of ourselves and receiving from others
With a rare and sacred gentleness
We share
And honor the ineffably beautiful spirit
Who breathes love and life in us and through us and among us
Every day 

Today that spirit was purring.

Kathleen Taylor -  b August 27th 1965 - d October 4th 2006


Details | Elegy | |

Elegy With Sarong 1

Her paintings of sarongs I'm going to see

will be there for two months, 

I  think, at Lake Of The Clouds

Arts. I heard this in the news:  Layers died last week.

Native Brown Bear got studied thoroughly.

It has been exonerated. The Killer Brown

has been exonerated, according to the news.

According to some searching I find out the layers

are just mist...

Paintings by the girl are hung

around the den.

Her mother uses it as the favorite

of my wrongs.

She paints bears and she is a rising

Mars.  The mother brown bear ate spoiled food we had.

We left that food out in saran wrap.

 I am unwrapping in the layers of mist

unrolling in the folds of rayon.

The girl's mother hated that sarong

that people on the lake gave

to the young artist  before the lake died.   And no one

denies giving her the sarong

and her paintings of bears and of sarongs

are with her at the opening at the Lake Arts tonight...


Details | Elegy | |

Never Again

Feeling is believing,
the heart has felt the pain,
love lost, now gone
forever, to be never
seen again.
Our mommy and
our daddy, gone from
our sight but not our hearts,
we will forever love them
and never be apart.