With every breath I take my body aches,
When I lie in bed I feel my insides hurting.
With every reminder brings me pain.
No more can I find comfort in my home,
The cries of babies stains my mind.
I'm trying my best,
But of course from day to day hour to hour,
I find myself crying.
Memories that morning come to me every day,
Nurses surrounding me my doctor getting on her knees,
Her head looking down,
The thoughts that ran through my mind.
My life entering a new course,
One full of grieving.
He had my face,
My son, my beautiful angel.
He's watching me now,
He left me in tears but he is in my heart.
A WISH -- In Memory Of
I wish I could blow air into your little lungs,
The day my daughter brought your stillborn body into this world.
Hold your little body warm,
And tell my little girl you have her cute little nose....
Count your little fingers, and kiss your little toes....
I could look into your daring eyes,
Facing a little boy, who's ready for this world
I could tell my daughter you have her beautiful brown eyes...
Sadly, it’s not like that.
How can I tell my daughter everything will be all right?
When a piece of my heart was stolen with her's,
When giving birth to her son, my grandson
March 25, 2013---- How it Hurts!
O’ how I wish, you entered this world crying
Instead, we're the ones left in tears of sorrow
How I wish you could be,
And not this feeling you left inside
How I wish, God could explain why o' why o' why?
Mostly, I WISH grandma could fix this, and make
your mommy feel, the joy she was robbed of.
In memory of my grandson: ---Bael Lesley G.
Born March 25, 2013 --- RIP March 25, 2013
Where Have All The Pretty Poets Gone?
A real poet are you, charismatic over everything you serve
Showcasing, a rainbow that folds the perfect world wide perspective
I'm talking about flawless literature at its best no typos, no muss
Just a page full of boredom and rust
Thank you for having Lunesta all up in my head
It's like reading a poetry lesson, from the extras of The Walking Dead
An image frozen cold, waiting for inspiration to hit like Al Capone
I'm bored of your flora flamboyant language rocking me like stones
A psychedelic trip, into the odyssey of a blind man's tale
A home where I am pushed to open a dictionary & thesaurus with braille
Wondering what you just said, --Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful day!
The best rocket pen poet in the USA Today,
Launching words like no tomorrow, a fool of wordplay and sorrow
A godlike guinea-pig genius, delegating poetry politician style
Perhaps, one day you will become a famous writer
Burning books, like a cigarette lighter
Until then, enjoy pushing your pen as if it was cocaine,
Snorting up and cutting up the food chain in vain
Patronizing and ignoring those, for better or worse
A solo cup stuck up another cup, -won't even look my way
Correct me if you will, it's no big deal
Just don't forget to give me the same respect I offer you
Until then my pretty poetic friend, I kneel before no one
Is it possible that an angel and a demon could fall in love?
And, remain soul mates for all eternity?
Yes, and I will tell you how it happened.
Maybe, it was a miracle that they met
or maybe it was just meant to be.
That an angel fell out of heaven and a demon escaped from hell
on the very same day.
They saw no one, but each other.
Yet, neither had ever seen such a creature.
The angel was beautiful and kind.
This angel had fallen from heaven
a place of light and life, and of hope and peace.
The demon was imperfect and shy.
This demon had escaped from hell
a place of darkness and death, and of despair and pain.
When they met, their eyes met.
And without a spoken word.
The angel saw only tenderness and hurt in this lost demon.
The demon saw only compassion and love in this lost angel.
It did not matter to them if one had wings, and the other had horns.
Yet, they saw themselves within each other.
Even though they were from two different worlds.
They embraced each other.
Though, they knew their love was forbidden by others like themselves.
So, they decided to remain here on earth.
Where their bond could not be broken.
The heart of the angel was no longer filled with loneliness and longing.
The heart of the demon was no longer filled with torment and sorrow.
Love is what they both were searching for.
And it was found on that very same day.
A forbidden love, everlasting for all eternity.
Nineteen twenty-four and the wind was cold,
When men in uniform entered our town;
Forced us to leave in their boxcars,
Made us believe that it was for our own safety.
With no time to fix our things
We hurriedly got in the box.
And when everyone was in,
The doors were locked.
The place was hell
For not even a whisper of wind
Could enter the place,
Nor could a light shine through its walls.
Our eyes were dry and lips cracked
Plead for just a single drop;
As four nights and days we travelled
Inside the cars with no food or water.
The box unimaginable in its very state,
For dung and human liquid fragranced the place.
Weak-hearted both young and old struggled to live
Even the strong wished not to survive.
And on the fourth day, the box went to a halt!
Survivors were singing songs to God;
“Please end this tormented journey,
And deliver us home safely.”
Light shone as the heavy doors were opened!
We dropped to our knees
Hoping the place was Paradise
But Paradise was it not for we were in Hell.
Ironically, the gate held words
Like that as ‘Beware of the Dog.’
Written in frostbitten wood saying:
“ARBEIT MACHT FREI.”
My mind was puzzled upon seeing those,
How could labor set you free,
When labor here meant
Dying in force and agony.
Jew, work or die!
Jew, never complain and lie!
Those were the words
That became music in our ears,
As we bent our bones
Working for freedom that is bound.
Jew, form your lines!
Jew, the choosing has come!
And in this place we call Hell,
An Angel waits for preys.
Not to feed to its cherubim
But to the ovens decay.
Jew, old and sick!
Jew, to the ovens burn!
As the sun paints the sky red,
A gray smoke danced with the setting clouds,
And in the heavens, the old and sick smile
Grateful to be forever free from the Angel.
On and on, the days passed by
Not faster but years it seem.
Millions were killed by the monsters of time,
Feeding them to the hungry gas ovens.
Then one even night,
I dreamt of food, of home,
Of freedom and safety
And a voice calling me to follow.
I had no choice but to obey,
For in that moment I was already tired,
Sick and losing hope that once was mine
But seem to be forever lost.
On the 16th of March,
I lied still in my shelf.
I slept forever smiling,
With my red babushka in hand.
But disappointed and angry was I
To share the very day of my death
To the birth of the Malach-ha-mavis:
The Angel of Death.
Soft and tender a precious gift you were
never a day I missed to kiss your
dimpled cheeks , or hold your litlle hands
flowers, little buds that held a promise
of a gentle touch or warm embrace.
I know your face your crooked smile even your feeble cry
I knew you love of my life
but did not know your were here only for a time.
You knew me too I could see it in your eyes
sparkling gems that flashed when you saw my face.
Now you've gone to a place far away, to your home in the sky
from whence you came and stayed a little while.
Another angel I have now, this one I know so well
I'll always remember your smile, and dimpled cheeks
your busy hands and little feet.
My guardian angel you've come to be
one I was blessed to meet... to know.. to embrace ....to love...
now I know you came not to stay only to make my acquintance and I yours
My heart is sad for I miss you so my infant child
wish you had stayed awhile.
How I cried when you left and though my tears have now dried
I will always miss you though you stay by my side.
You are my special Angel the one I know best
the one I have held, loved and known, better than all the rest.
Just to let readers know. I have not lost a child. I simply wrote this poem for all
who may have lost such a precious one.
You've sanded down the edges of my broken heart.
No longer do they pierce me.
You've stopped me from falling apart.
Like shattered glass I was a cracked reflection
Of past loves that only could do wrong.
You've entered my life just in time to save me from the past.
An angel with a healing wing you have caressed me
And carried me into a better place.
Your strong arms wrapped around me.
The passion in your kiss
Oh to be kissing an angel...
I surrender myself to you heaven.
August eighth nineteen thirty-seven her tiny Spirit thus landed on
This distant planet, within a parallel universe her newborne galaxy..
Ancient eyes gazing as yet but another of their own; Celestial's child ?
* ...."Lawana Faye Workman-Sadberry, Born August 8th, 1937, 'Her Beauty,'
A Journey Unto Love's Stars, May 16th, 2013 * 'I Love You Mom,' Always.... *
One of my earliest remembrances in this place; life
Was when I was about three or four years of age
The fear overcoming my heart thinking if ever
I were to be seperated from or lose, my father ?
Within my minds eye I see a small child in spirit
Walking hand and hand with their own beautiful
Father amid heaven turning back to smile; John
There he goes, my dad and myself left sorting....
About this flesh; bittersweet, tides through time
Which touch every life yet in faith I know that all
Shall one day be well; as I wave and into the light
Their beauty's go rejoicing a soul; wiping love's tear.
...."John Harrison Sadberry ˜ March 26th, 1939 ˜ Beauty ˜ To,
December 19th, 2012, &, 'Forevermore ˜ I Love You Dad!'".... *
To be called ..
~ Grandma is a Honor ~
I have been blessed with 4 Grandchildren
~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb " He is God's Angel ~
~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~
For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
Time passed another gift to see
we are " Mickes" and Loved
Our Dad held the title in Baseball
~ that's how we roll ~
those children are Grandmas hero's
The Irish they love big and Family is everything
The brothers will protect the beautiful sister
~ as many lads will be calling ~
Every time my Grandson hits a home run
There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand
It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs
~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
either baseball or Art ~ you shall find your gift given
These children have been blessed~
~ a beauty to hard to describe
If you think not ~~ Take a look at the Mom
That girl can stop Traffic
after raising three and still~
"Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "
May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell