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Mother Dream Poems | Mother Poems About Dream

These Mother Dream poems are examples of Mother poems about Dream. These are the best examples of Mother Dream poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

My Son Moon and Star

            My Son Moon and Star ~

        Approaching the celebration of his Birth 
                cherishing the gift I received 
           within weeks of conception I knew
            something amazing was in Creation ~

            the Stars held a party
            sending me with one of their own  
    Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky   
       It was magic  It was destiny taking its flight.  

           In love with an October full moon 
               drawing and painting I liked 
             thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
                caught in a loss of time 

          Hours going by as choosing my color  
           a wittness to three falling stars 
             A clear night sky sparkle's
           A once Famous Star was sent 
            inspiring the tiny child inside ~ 

           Never a doubt in my mind at all     
       child bearing was worth any pain received
      yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
             one to cherish and hold
          My Son was born the following August ~

    working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year  
         as the set of Leverage for 3 years .

              Has done a Indie movie here  
             In Paris it was seen and honored
             coming soon filmed in Portland ~
                 "The House of Last Things "

        awaiting the credits , you will see
                        
    1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant 
   
                 My Young Lion Mans dream ~
        A proud mom I watch every show and the credits 

        as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
              My Son &  Moon and Star  
               A name you will all know ~

            Happy Birthday to my creative Son
             you will exist in my heart forever~
                        and thereafter               
                             Mom


Details | Narrative | |

My Mom

Dear God, how did You sleep.
I had a dream and it made me weep.
Did You see it, it was so real.
I think it might even help me heal.

Anyway that dream last night 
sure was kind of cool.
Except for the times  
I acted the fool.

I was a whole lot younger
then I am now.
I was talking with my mom
and I was wondering how?

We sat at the kitchen table
and she had on that grin. 
The one that always told me.
I know where you've been.

I could talk to her 
about anything I ever did.
Not only when I grew up
But since I was a little kid.

She was the only one
on this whole entire earth.
Who made me feel like I belonged.
Who gave me a sense of worth.

We talked for hours.
We laughed and we cried.
I didn't leave the table 
till the day that she died.

It was a roller coaster ride 
of every high and low I could feel.
Then Lord You got out the projector
and then You put on the reel.

We watched home movies
and most of it was good.
You would fast forward
those parts that you should.

There was this one scene
where Jesus had a part.
Remember when I asked for Him 
to come into my heart?

On a scale of 1 to 10
I would give it a ten.
But there was this one time 
I don't remember when??

When I asked for Jesus to come into my heart
He walked right in like He belonged.
But what I didn't know then 
was that He walked in with my mom.


Details | Epitaph | |

BABY

written 28th oct 2012

You were never seen by us, that privilege sadly was not for us 
  an extravagance we were overwhelmed by, the thought of your embrace  
The entire twelve weeks you were a joy to have known, even 'without' being seen 
 hearing about you're arrival, was a blessing at the time you were conceived
For life hadn't been easy and we had all asked God, we even plea'd 

We wait upon the day, you will finally meet us 
 having the honour to love and learn with you, saddly not for us
It brakes my heart as you part, you had already embeded love into my heart
 Just knowing we will now...forever be kept apart

God has other plans for your love that's so strong, blessing us from the start
 we continually pray, maybe he'll deside to let you stay around
But the intense pain of tears and loss, are constantly falling all around
 just let it be known, we all desperately wanted you to become part of us
 
We all will love you for eternity, you are now forever one of us,
 although it was only for a very slight second, it was better than never
You are from this day on, embedded into our hearts forever...
   the impact you have left 'unborn young one'' my beloved grandchild....
                                  "Angel" 2012


Details | I do not know? | |

WHO AM I BY NAME ALONE

written 10th Aug 2013



I am God's child, first and forever
I am known by many different titles, a daughter
I am a wife
I am a mother
I am a grandmother
I am a poet
I am by several ways, known as a sister
I am an acquaintance
I am a loyal friend
I am a stranger
I am a cousin
I am an Auntie
I am a niece
But who is this person, they all call "Denise?"

She is a child to God
She is a niece
She is a cousin
She is a stranger
She is a loyal friend
She is an acquaintance
She is known to many, a sister
She is a poet
She is a grandmother
She is a mother
She is a wife
She is known as a daughter to many
She is everything, she'd ever dreamed her life to be....
She is happier than she ever imagined possible
SHE IS "DENISE"


Details | Free verse | |

Final Adieu

Final Adieu

Let another sun set,
Let another flower wilt,
Let another autumn cast its gloom,
Let another tear role,
As ye part, and bid
The final adieu.

Suyash Saxena
St. Stephen’s college


Details | Ballad | |

Living my dream

Living my dream

I had one dream when I was young
To go to another land
In life I wasn’t satisfied
I wanted something grand
Lions, tigers. Kangaroos
And all those wild, wild beasts
Africa, South America
Or Australia at least.

Possessive Mother was my curse
How could I get away?
Every time I mentioned it
She had so much to say
And made me feel so guilty
Really cramped my style
And then one day there came along
Something to make me smile

I’d just turned my nineteenth year
When this great girl came along
She hailed from West Australia
And filled my heart with song
So we got married, had some kids
And here we are in Oz
Been here for half a century
And I came here all because

It was my fate to find this girl
She was my destiny
There’s be a whisper in the skies
That knows how things will be
It takes one’s soul, and leads it on
So growth, it might occur
And I know that west Australia
My heart, it sure does stir.

4 August 2013 @ 1440hrs.


Details | Imagism | |

A Farmer's Eyes and a Sailor's Shadow

A thorough yield
On a farm field of far east
It took me time to realize
How far I am to my far east of coast

Call of my weather
Call of my winds
I sailed further and farther
To my naked coasts
Naive songs, Nimble rains
Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds

Reaching this far
I kissed my earth
Ground of my grief
Glory of my ghosts
Glad is those leaves
However scanty they are

Cast is my shadows
No longer they hide
My colors and my figures
They cast numbers on stars
Measure their light
Scope my winters
Scale my summers
Scanty my rains
Scuttle I wish my springs

Now let me see my greens
Their leveling heights
Their leafy gaze
Their spiderly gesture
Their primordial texture
Now let me be slow
In company of my greens

#Poem by +Gokul Alex


Details | Blank verse | |

Mother, Forgive Us

Mother,
I used to walk in dark places and know that I was safe.
Because I knew that I loved you.

Mother,
I have abused my brothers and sisters.
I have contaminated your purity with murder.
I have raped your daughters.
I have kidnapped your children.
I have brought your blessed bosom to the brink of destruction.

And now, even when I walk in daylight I do not feel safe.
For now I am aware of what I have been to you.
Worse than a prodigal, I have endeavored to exploit the very mother who nurtures me.
And now that I have worsened whatever imbalance was in you before I arrived,
I endeavor to flee you like a coward through the grace of an oblivious savior.

Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of water.
I have dreamed a dream of living water.
And in this dream Jesus, my Savior, told me that he was not oblivious.
And in this dream Jesus told me that he was fully aware of my crimes against you.

Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of fire.
I have dreamed a dream of unquenchable fire.
And in this dream Jesus reminded me that I was sent here to heal you as you taught me of manhood.
And in this dream Jesus told me that if I could not love you, my mother, who I could see, then how could I love my Father in heaven who I could not.

Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of air.
I have dreamed a dream of whirlwinds.
And in this dream I breathed in the breath of forgiveness and I realized that it was not too late for us.

Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of earth.
And in this dream, Mother Earth, I see you and us together, fighting for our freedom.
Fighting against the delusion that our fates are not eternally intertwined.

Mother earth,
Please forgive us.
For true, we have betrayed you.
But it is not too late.

Mother,
I promise you that as sure as my savior is in heaven we are going to make it.

Mother,
I present myself to you as a living witness.
The Lord has not forsaken us.
For within our DNA is the secret to your healing and the end of our insanity.

Mother,
Thank you for loving and protecting me, even as I raped and wounded you.
And now it is my turn.

“In the name of Jesus, the earth and all of the earth’s inhabitants are one mind, heart, and body.  In the name of Jesus, we are one person, one planet, and one purpose.  In the name of Jesus, the lion will soon lay down with the lamb and this beautiful sound, this sound of the sacred Gaia will know harmony!!” 


Details | Narrative | |

My Story Telling Can You Trust Me

Gun fire all around, bombs going off in the distance
It was some of the angry mobs and resistance
Father was the king of SafeHaven a small kingdom
Like all other kingdoms it fell in random
Fire started in the castle
And along with it came a battle

It was a distance memory now because the child has now grew
Many things in this child that made memories stew
My name is Mastrey, a young orphan who was there that night
Mastrey saw her in the distance and her father and mother in his sight
Everyone was loud that night and made all the children hide
But that evening Mastrey saw her mother and father die

She ran into the bushes in such a fright
And evil doers were running around with flashlights
Mastrey remember it as he distracted them 
Her eyes was so confused with problems
Mastrey new that it was because of what just occurred
His feelings of what those people did was not awkward

The distraction worked, he went back to were she was
Hiding and very scared she was, he asked her, can you trust me just because?
Her answer that night depended on her lively hood
As Mastrey was their with his hand reaching out to her as he stood
Pulling her up from the ground he looked into her eyes that were SeaBlue
Mastrey had made a life long friend and love, She knew it was true

Next: My Story Telling,  Who is this Princess


Details | Couplet | |

THE HOUSEWIFE'S LAMENT

It's not easy to live with every day problems,
Especially when someone expects you to solve them,

The minute that trouble has raised up it's head,
And balance the budget and make home made bread;

And making and keeping appointments and errands,
While setting a shining example as parents.

Sometimes I just wish I could go back to bed,
And dream a sweet dream and wake up instead,

To find I can take a day off to relax,
Perhaps read a book and not feel so taxed;

'Cause the house work will be there tomorrow for sure,
And I don't have to worry, my job is secure.

Who'd want all the worry I have all the time?
It's no bed of roses, no sweet dream sublime;

For I am a homemaker, nanny and nurse;
The one they all turn to for better or worse.

This is my castle and I am it's queen,
And I wouldn't trade it for anything.



(It's the most thankless job in the world --- or is it.)


Details | Narrative | |

Dead Reckoning


~                                                                              
Black as the pit in the well of my dreams
I'm here all alone,  and the silence is long...
I'm engulfed by the drone and the low pitch of dread
Dead reckoning beckons me to hold up my head 
in a whirlwind, a gust of the fierce prairie wind

I open my eyes, with the last of my breath
There is a field of wheat, I am gasping within
My grandmother's house, in a waving mirage
is seen through the dust, just as once it had been
What do I fear?  Perhaps it is death?

Perchance this is slumber, and the sleep monster taunts me,
The nightmare is haunting, as it calls through the dark
I am playing the part, I am child, just a spark
of the fire that wants me, as the field is engulfed

Heroic, and fearless, now, alas, not afraid!
An arm reaches out, and shows me the way
“You can be brave” as she lends me her hand
Shouting, "Stand by my side, let the flames be your guide"

How brave, that I am, when deep in the place
in the trace of the vaporous face of my dreams
The shades of fire, and smoke of the night
will consume me, if only, I fight off my fright
It is only my fear,  that consumes while awake
of the things that are real, and things that are not

I'll not bend like wheat strands, or the flames of the fire
I'll stand tall when I wake, and will wake with new power



__________________________________________________
1//5/14  For the Contest sponsored by Poetess Darkly
"Pocket Full of Dreams"


Details | Rhyme | |

No Job Can't Pay the Bills TRY JESUS


Here I sit, uncertain of what lies ahead.
I’m still wondering how my family will be fed.

I once had a job that provided a sense of “security.”
Now I don’t…  And I have a lot of uncertainty!

I have unpaid bills, and I’m not sure what to do.
I’ve asked for help.  But not sure who to turn to!

I get discouraged, and feel life “pulling me down.”
I’ve tried just about every job that’s in town.

The dreams I had, have been shattered and smashed.
At times, I feel like I’m just “a piece of trash.”

My wife tried to support me, the best that she can.
But she doesn’t know me…  Or even understands!

Dear Jesus…  You’re the only left that I haven’t tried.
There’s been many nights I laid awake and cried!

I read in the Bible, where your love for me is real!
When I call on your name...  There’s a love I can feel!

Whatever happens, please help me Lord, to trust you!
Whatever tomorrow holds, may I still love you!

I know that you’re a foundation, that I can stand on!
Jesus is a friend!  That I can always depend on!

Jesus, if I lose everything that I have or that I hold on to...
My I always remember your faithfulness
 and never forget you!

Here I stand… With my burdens lifted from me!
It’s because of Jesus!  And how much he loves me!

I praise HIS name!  And lift my hands to the sky!
He’s in control now!  I don’t have to ask the reason why!

Jesus…  Please take control of my worries and desires!
Above all of my problems, I lift your name up higher!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

Finding A Box Of Life

One late night, I fell asleep in my chair
I dreamed of finding a box with a treasure so rare.
In this dream was a soldier and a good one at that.
I saw his old suit and his old tattered hat.

He had tried to stay youthful, but old he must be.
He walked with a limp because of his bad knee.
In the dream I visited with him one day.
And he told me a story that put me in dismay.

He said, "Here's a box that I'm giving to you.
It has a great treasure, if only you knew.
It contains this old coin, as you can see it's so old.
But to me it's worth more than all the silver and gold.

For you can see in the middle is a great big dent.
And there was so much force, that's why it's so bent.
I was out on the battlefield one dark night you see.
When a bullet was fired and it came straight at me.

This coin I had placed round my neck, next to my heart,
Was a prayer from my mother, she had sent from the start.
The bullet hit the coin and knocked me to the ground.
So I thank the Lord for this treasure that I found.

This coin in the box saved my life on that day.
Now you take it, treasure it and go on your way."

Thank you grandmother for listening to the Lord one day.
And sending dad this precious coin, which in this box I'll lay!


Details | Free verse | |

Unspoken Love

She saved herself from pick up lines though she looked vulnerable
She's sooo lovable her heart definition could ruin my poetic abilities 
You cannot put a price on her she's not billable
If only her lips where adjustable my soft poetry would define her inabilities and weaknesses for the mute to scream happily ever after  
She's untouchable i O you an explanation
Her tears tattoo broken spirits uploaded on instagram
She's no twitter baby though followers invite themselves its unbelievable
I could throw nice verses in our conversation but i'm afraid i'm love blind 

I'll tell you more about her if you ask me....ask me nice


Details | Light Poetry | |

The First Christmas Present

A spider spun a silver web in a mound of golden straw, Then he hid himself inside the stack, away from the wind so raw. He yelled down to the sheep below Who were trying to huddle close, “It’s times like this that I wish there was a fire for a mutton roast. For winter had come upon the land and his barn was deathly cold, He wasn’t sure if he’d survive the night if the truth of it were told. He tried to dream a dream of hope to get him through the night, But he couldn’t bring himself to sleep because of a blinding light. A star was shinning down on them as if the sun in mid-day glory, The little spider had yet to learn of the coming Christmas story. Below was a ewe with her lamb both snuggled up together, Trying their best to keep warm in the cold of the winter weather. “I’d never trade places with you anyway,” the mother sheep bleated out, “Why are you so happy in your hate to lend voice to pain and doubt?” The light from heaven kept them awake and staring in wide wonder, When two weary travelers entered in and the straw became their plunder. The little spider became dislodged as a nest of straw was piled, And he could see that one of the travelers was very great with child. The three companions watched it all; they’d never seen a human being born, They were all surprised when at his birth There came the peal of an angelic horn. A herald’s call went out to all the land announcing the newborn king, And the spider and the ewe shared a laugh to think of such a thing. Because this baby was so very small and his parents were so poor, Yet there was something about this newborn child that neither could ignore. The spider looked down on the ewe and said in a voice too bold, “This baby needs to be swaddled now to keep him from the cold. Good ewe I can spin for him a cover if you’ll allow me to use your fleece.” So together they worked to swaddle the child on this night of Holy peace. The mother smiled at them all as she took the blanket for her boy, Then laid him in a manger poor and they were overcome with joy. The meaning of this wondrous event was what made them all feel glad, For they had brought the first gift to the Lord by sharing what they had. And the warmth, which they had provided the child, also kept the three of them warm, May the loving joy that they discovered keep you this Christmas morn. Merry Christmas!


Details | I do not know? | |

One Billion Rising

Today we rise.

No more hiding in the shadows,

of culture,
creed,
tradition.

No more silent complicity,

defensive arguments,
sickening pretences,
shabby excuses,

for the actions of men,

brutal and coarse and vulgar and obscene and murderous and abusive.

Today, we rise,

as one.

Today the change starts,

with me,
within me.

Today we rise.


Details | Imagism | |

Something good

The smell of coffee: hot and bitter in the cold winter night 
With the rhythm in the left hand and the rhyme in the right, 
He wrote a poem in his secret pocket,
A wistful star like a speedy rocket
Ready to leave this planet intense blue
In search of other traces of life anew.
He remembered after mother had died,
In the cold touch ,stalagmites and stalactites cried.
Father and son felt a strong taste for sweets.
As in the sunset, the blind boatman meets
With an awkward touch the water`s ring
But generally they needn`t to eat anything
For a while they rested an extraordinary team:
Father insistently (sometimes boring) told him
All his recollections:childhood,war and the rest…
All muscles and teeth pressed hot, like ice on the crest.
The son learnt them by heart, and later
He would retell them to father, even better…
One was on duty to wash the dishes;
The other tried to follow his wishes…

Their only joy was to read and read and read…
One had to cook at home ,and to bake the bread
In a bread factory:He was happy even when he was sad.
He could recognize each bread: All his loafs were bad.
He was like Chaplin in “New Times”.
He was speaking in figures and rhymes.  
He wore a monk beard and father was much more younger.
Looking through the window: grey hunger and anger …

At the weekend, he used to ask his father 
About the favourite meal, but rather
He would find a surprise the next day.
Each day was windy winter and grey…

Father had the same touching answer:”Something good”.
In the strange interference ,water and fire ,one was rude.
Solitude  was their common friend stealing in like a lizard,                                       
But, in the afternoon they played sweeping their courtyard.
They had leaves in autumn and snow in the winter.
The sky was grey without sun, the clouds were bitter.
Father was counting the leaves, in the old horizon
The son was painting the days ,in the cold horizon.


The war with the falling down leaves fighting hard 
With red faces like an inveterate drunkard .
And years after his father met his final hope,
The son would stop in front of  the sweets shop , 
Ready to buy recollections as Christmas tree sweets.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Reality of a Dream

I have felt the bliss, of a daughter’s kiss,
and realize what heaven must seem.
For in all my life, thru happiness and strife,
my daughter’s laughter consumes my dreams.

I have sailed afar, and traveled the stars,
in search of a more beautiful feeling.
I’ve flown by air, for this beautiful love affair,
that sends my heart and soul a reeling.

I’ve rode the train, in search of a domain,
where love feels as brilliant as this.
I’ve swam the ocean, with perfect motion,
yet always amiss to finding this bliss.

I’ve treaded the bush, in Australia I push,
demanding they show me the path to glory,
but I leave empty handed, though I’ve demanded,
a beautiful ending to this tormenting story.

I’ve lived my life, searching for who I am,
and always do I come up short.
I fret and I ponder, for a love that is fonder,
than this love in my dreams I distort.

Still I fail, to no avail, to find a reality as grand,
than the laughter I hear, in this dream I command.
I ‘ve walked life’s path, in search of a resolution,
mindless to an ultimate desperate conclusion.
For a dream is an illusion, a visionary infusion,
a poignant resolution to all confusion – and a dream is just that….a dream.


Details | Light Poetry | |

A Working Mom's Wish

If only there's a rewind,
I 'll stay at home each day.
Watch the movies, play in pen.
Cuddle my kids, tickle them.
Wait the whole day 'til they arrive.
Cook them a soup when it rains.
Give them a warmest hug,
when they reached home after school.
Help them do their assignments,
Be the best mom as I can be.
Collect the pieces of time that I missed.
Return the value I once taught them.
Regain the memories when we're together.
If time permits...
I'll go back to the place where I lived.
Have a rest in my old bed,
Sing the songs until I lose breath.
Play with my furry friends.
Hide above the roof and dreams.
Watch the sky as it pass by.
Tell the wind to blow mild.
I wish I can still grab a time.
To be myself, do what I want.
I'm tired....
If only I can stop the time.


Details | Rispetto | |

Sweet Dreams


My beautiful boy gently sleeps through the night dreaming of far off places I'll never see. Under a hand-knitted blanket soft and white, I quietly watch him breathing peacefully. Sweet lullabies tenderly drift through the air as I kiss his cheek and lightly stroke his hair. My beautiful boy sleeps in the nightlight glow while I dream of a man with a smile I know. My beautiful son with a kind, gentle soul dreaming of adventures to one day unfold. You mended my heart where there once was a hole. I'll shelter you always, you'll never be cold. Sleep my baby sleep while the stars gaze on you as you slumber on train sheets in pale, sky blue. My beautiful son says goodnight to the moon while I dream of a man who has grown too soon. *My little darling, Dylan, is "graduating" from preschool next month. He has taken his cap and gown picture, and seeing the pictures, I can't help but think how he is growing up too soon. I cherish every sweet moment. He is a beautiful child. By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders for Children in Rhyme Contest (Francine Roberts) sixth place


Details | Free verse | |

In Lost Time

I write to you my self, 
Sending you myself 
With words that I long for you
Need you and care about you 
Hope you, miss you, and want 
To share my heart, my life 
With you, all these written
On a piece of paper 
Capsule in time, in a bottle 
On the way to you
Somewhere some time
You shall get it. 
Floating across 
The seven seas
In lost time…


Details | Free verse | |

The Bird that is Loved and Loathed

It burns and it stings.
It hurts.
More than drowning beneath 
the ice.
More than remaining in a 
kindled flame
She hits and I no longer cry.
Why mother, why? 

It burned and it stung.
The markings remained, 
returned, and were relived
Looking, loving, and little 
known loathing were the known 
ways of living.
Never was their pity for the 
child that cried
Never was their relief for the 
child that tried

You were that lovely bird that 
understood the complications of 
felicity 
Nothing looked the same in 
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears 
of joy.
The others-they were yet to 
appear.
Caring Mother, o' so fair
 You were that beautiful bird 
filled with care.

The others came and were not 
alone. Their two suitors sat on 
the throne.
Rampage and rage why did you 
come?
I began to wither and wither 
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a 
human raceme. 
The droops of the Lily of the 
Valley became the slumping of 
my heart.
My lovely bird the enemy had 
taken you and the person you 
were is far from near.
For that divine nature left its 
intricate self and you became 
irretrievable my big bird.
All of your fairness died.
With that went my pride.
 
Mother, Mother what moved 
you so? 
Your intense spirt vanished only 
to supplement a monster. 
Mother, Monster and your tar 
filled lungs. 
How did I kill that liver that was 
so, so strong?
The lesson of pain was one you 
came to learn.
My darling bird why did you 
turn?
 
My lovely bird and your big 
brown eyes
I'll tell you once, but never 
twice.
Pain is only a flower for it 
blooms and dies
And a mistake can be killed as 
quickly as lice.
 You dear bird hurt me well. 
Though, haven't you heard?
Weakness is a souls greatest 
strength.
You brought me up, then you 
brought me down.
You haved helped, hurt, and 
hindered my blazing spirit.
A hero in my heart-I left you 
down in your deep black 
slumber. 
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights. 


Details | Free verse | |

Absence

The words you force 
The words you yell
The words you fictitiously pronounce
Now becomes you, becomes your energy.
Your energy flow is not lucid anymore. Was it ever?
Your demand for a delusional lie to become reality shames you. 
These words you force on me have backfired. 
I see the colours you wear,
I must now forgive you
The damage has been done. To yourself.

Copyright © Christina Clark


Details | Free verse | |

Introduction

"First she burst my bubble, 
then she said goodbye."
So the dream mother 
introduces my daughter to me.

Nameless, she plays in the sandbox,
digging up dirt even as a toddler.
Here is where I know her first:
Before her hospital cry;
before the bloody show.

I ask the dream mother what it was like
giving birth to the tot I do not yet know.

Her response leaves me in a cold sweat –

Now, too late to change direction:
her birth inevitable, as the goodbye.


Details | Couplet | |

A Rainy Night Visitor

The air is drunk on the scent of trellised roses
Snails draw trails on a rain soaked white washed shed
Shapes draw eerie life like human poses
Stars reside among white clouds overhead. 

I saw her framed in the arbor in your garden
Chatting with kids now raising kids of their own
Her visit did not illicit a word of pardon 
She would be proud to see how they have grown. 

My shadow a shimmering path across the grass
Invited me into worlds now torn apart
But present tense reigned over memories past
As my mind bowed gracefully to my longing heart. 

I was not surprised or saddened by her presence
She is ever present in all that matters most
At times like this when I feel her very essence
I wonder who's alive and who's the ghost. 


Details | Lyric | |

On and On

Though that day was dry
But still that mother long cry
Would not stop me from making a try.

I know how rigid the wall
I know how strong 's the mall
And that made me tall.

Though Whiskey held my lip 
And rolled me off to strip
But it wouldn't stop me from trip.

Though it 's at first painful
But now it 's the most beautiful
And before God, I will still be grateful.

I know she did it for fun
And not realise what it 'd turn
But before God, she don't have to run.

Though that day was dry
But still that mother long cry...


Details | Quatrain | |

Safe

It's like a weight lifted off of my heart;
I am no longer torn apart.
Thank God you are safe;
Everything is okay.


Details | Lyric | |

Dream

Feburary 27th 2012 i lost the most important person in my life. Helen

I was at a goodwill, when i prayed to her that i would find a metallica shirt. I was then looking through the shirts and found two metallica shirts. I got them both. i started wondering if it was her, if she answered my prayer. A few days later i had a dream. She was standing in the window yelling down at me telling me she bought me something and it was on her bed in a bag. i told her how much i missed her and i went to go see what it was. i open the bag on the bed and see the two metallica shirts i had bought at that goodwill. i now know that she answered my prayer.

Another dream i had.

I had often wondered if she considered me a grandchild.. because im not realted to her by blood. I had a dream it was at her funeral. i seen her sitting in a chair next to me. my sister and some of her grandchildren were carrying her casket to the hurse. My sister fell and dropped the casket and several of her family members were yelling at her. Helen the women who these dreams are about sat and said she loved all her grandchildren even if there not blood related.

I believe Helen answers my questions in my dreams.


Details | I do not know? | |

Happy Mother's Not

Thank you mother,
you birthed me,
you nursed me,
you fed and clothed me.

You loved me,
when seems, the word had loathed me.
I'd not want that love in vain.

However this is not your day.

Thank you mother, 
for your support,
and your optimistic sheen,
it's inspiring
and always has shaped the person whom I am.

But this is not your day.

It belongs to the greeting card companies.

Who've robbed another holiday.

Robbed it of all meaning, 
all substance and heart.
Robbed it of it's very soul.

Deformed it,
corrupted it,
chewed it up and spat it,
till it's obscure meanings long forgot;
faded into history, a mother's not.


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

Dedicated to my mother, whom I love. 
Also dedicated to Julia Ward Howe who invented a holiday meant to end war and poverty.  And to 
celebrate all families.  Who died before her dream could ever be realized.

And...to Anne Jarvis who forced through the holiday, hoping to continue Howe's work and end war 
and poverty and create a better world for all,  only to see that dream shattered as Greeting Card 
companies and greedy conglomerates perverted it's ideals to nothing more then lip service 
dedicated to selling cards and candy.

To celebrate some mother's publicly, while other's have their health care raised and their social 
security stolen.  While single mothers have to risk their health and their lives to barely feed their 
children.  

This holiday is an abomination.  It doesn't celebrate motherhood, it degrades it. Women don't need 
to be celebrated nearly as much as they need a good world in which they can better raise their 
children.  A world in which they can feed their children. This holiday is a Mother's Not and so is this 
world.


Details | Free verse | |

A woman's body

I dream of a woman's body 
and of wrapping it in my arms
and watching as it gets slushy
and as she progressively 
becomes more slutty.
 
I'd like to play with it 
like a fishers price toy.
And go fishing until 
I've reached the treasure.

With a woman's body the fun
is never really over and I'll 
keep scobba diving until 
I've seen all four walls.
And pushed each and every lever. 

Some women than like to sever 
all ties and be the player. 
But when I dream of a woman's 
body I dream that time is frozen.
And that this one sensuous moment
could last forever.

But I haven't found her body yet.
I regret....    

  


Details | Free verse | |

Unborn baby's dreams

In this dark haven
I wonder what it means to breathe
What it would be like to see that light
Dreaming everyday ,of being in her lap
Longing for her soft touch
My ears yearning to hear that lullaby
I dream of hugs and kisses
I dream of a loving family 
I dream of seeing my future dreams
In my mother’s eyes


for Scribe's contest....unborn babies dreams
27/9/2012


Details | Narrative | |

The Contest

Of course, as soon as a new poetry contest was posted I had to immediately enter.  In this 
contest, you had to email the sponsor to get your own, unique theme.  

Off went my email; back came her reply: “Write a poem about what inspired you to write 
poetry.”

She even included one of her poems as a sample of what she was looking for.  A beautiful 
poem indeed; relaying the story about how her Grandmother inspired her to write.  

So, I tried to emulate her with my story.

I wrote a poem about my football coach who taught me real men can write poetry without 
feeling emasculated.  A nice poem, albeit, total fiction.

I penned a verse about my first love encouraging me to write about our romance and how 
the subsequnt breakup inspired me to write about the sorrow of love lost.  A passionate and 
beautiful poem, although pure BS.

I rhymed the touching story about how my mother, on her deathbed, confessed that she 
knew I was writing poetry by reading my secret journal for years.  Her last words to me 
were to follow my passion and write poems for her in heaven.  Problem is, my mother is 
alive and well and has never shown any interest in reading my poems.

The fact of the matter is, I cannot pinpoint a moment in time; a person; or, an experience 
that inspired me to write.

Just as I need no inspiration to breathe in order to stay alive; I write poetry as a reflexive, 
survival instinct.

Just as I need no inspiration to eat in order to satisfy my hunger; I write poems to placate 
my yearning inside.

Just as I need no inspiration to dream when I close my eyes at night; words, rhymes and 
stories fill my mind whenever I find a moment of peace in my hectic day.

Whereas, I envy those who know where their inspiration came from, I am less blessed with a 
birth of inspiration and am more cursed with an innate need to write.

In my email to the sponsor, I bragged how I was up to the challenge, but, alas, she 
presented me with a theme I cannot relate to.

I will continue to breathe words of poetry through my keyboard.
I will continue to nourish my hunger through prose.
And, I will continue to dream in rhyme and meter.

But, I have no story to wow you with about what motivated me to do so in the first place.

The irony in all of this?  After admitting this truth about myself to a complete stranger in an 
otherwise meaningless contest, I am inspired to continue to feed my curse and write poetry 
forever more.

Thanks…damn you.


Details | I do not know? | |

Who am I

I am beautiful, intelligent but yet I feel lonely
I motivate myself yet am not a woman enough
By thoughts, imagination I am a woman
But nature disagree with me, who am I?

Oh nature have mercy on me
Make me real and proud to be a woman
A true reflection of neighbourhood, hope, care and love
A key of family but who am I?

Why does it feel bad, embarrassing?
But hope move through my heart
And you mind, give me sad and insecure thoughts of giving up
But land of homeless, motherless and fearless applaud me

For ubuntu the spirit of survival, but who am I?
Without one cry in my arms to show and give hope, life and emotion
Who am I? Who am I?
I am a woman, a community, a pillar and unity
A smile yet heavy inside but strong and brave

Who am I? Who am I?
W- Wonderful
O-Over protective
M-Mother
A-Active
N-Never give up
I am a woman, love and laughter
I am perseverance, I am a woman


Details | Lyric | |

I Had a Dream





                                      I Had a Dream

                         I had a dream. Oh I had a dream.
                         I sat in a chair in despair thinking
                       of the love and memory of my mother.
     In my dream I built a stairway to heaven with tears to hug her.
              Halfway with out a sound or word in the silent skies
                              an angel appeared upon me.
                        It was a precious and beautiful site.
Oh! I said could you for me ask God to cross a rose and lilac together
to create a bush with large clusters of white, purple, and pink flowers
                             and the fragrance of memory
   And give it long green stems so it can stand free and gracefully.
        Also ask him to it a name, a special name ‘ Kollock ‘
          and let it represent never forgotten love and memories.
                       In my dream God did this for me,
                     and gave it to my mother as a gift from me






Details | Free verse | |

Mother Steps Out

Smiling forever , caring me for nights ,
how can I forget my mother , who was all time apposite ,
Crooner thy lullabies' , thy anger quite meek ,
will thee come back , mother , when I seek .

Never I dream , but now I see ,
thy majestic shadows , which had flee ,
thy smile too laud , which provide remembrance a lot ,
remembrance of our almighty , praying for thy immortality .

Bonn voyage my mother , for beginning the journey of death ,
I could not feel thy feelings , the feelings of thy last breath ... ,
thinking and crying for thy disappearance , thy disappearance changed my eyes very Brut ,
thinking in the sense for thy journey , crying in the sense to know the journey route .

Oh mother , keeping me touch since the past nine months ,
the touch was painless for me , but painful for thee , 
 it was thy soft hand , which , taught me to grunt ,
 never I thought present condition of mine , for creation last a moment and then to flee . 
Smiling forever , caring me for nights ,
how can I forget my mother , who was all time apposite ,
Crooner thy lullabies' , thy anger quite meek ,
will thee come back , mother , when I seek .

Never I dream , but now I see ,
thy majestic shadows , which had flee ,
thy smile was too laud , which provide remembrance a lot ,
remembrance of our almighty , praying for thy immortality .


    							


Details | Couplet | |

That November Day

I will never forget that cold day in November.
It will be a day I will forever remember.

Anxiously sitting in the courtroom,
Praying that this day does not end in doom.

All the testifying that day is said and done.
I am nervously awaiting my fate and that of my sons.

The judge is gone but only an hour,
The expression she is wearing is quite dour.

She sits down at her bench and gives her verdict to me.
They are going to take my sons, the three.

She says I am not a good mother,
She says her choice was no other.

I sit there in disbelief and stun,
I cannot believe they are taking my sons!

She won't let me say goodbye,
I am not given the chance to try!

I sit there in that vile room and cry,
Please wake me from this dream and tell me it is a lie.

Unfortunately it is no dream and I lose my breath,
This is hell for me, without the death.

I try to make sense of this some, 
But I cannot, I am way too numb!

Life without my babies, this cannot be,
Please someone just answer me!

What I have ever done,
To make me lose my sons?

I thought I was doing right,
By asking for help that night.

God, If only a warning had been given,
I would not have made that decision!

You would think the pain would go away,
It does not, it is still with me today.


Details | Free verse | |

Morning Smile

Morning smile replies to sunrise
To leave a dark, quiet and cool cave.
I made a far trip to visit a beloved
Who has babied me 
Spoiled me with pleasant voice
Medicated me when I was sick
Showered me before bedtime…

The alarm clock drops a dense curtain
Closing the joyful episode: A happy time
To be nearby a blurry image. 
The player moves to the back stage
To return to a real life.
The sun rises up to the high noon
Then settles in the horizon… 
A single day is similar to a single life! 

The blurry image lasts in my mind
I smile to the dawning
Giving me hope to survive
I follow the enlighten morning.
What a sweet dream to meet 
My beloved mother. 


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

My Mother will not curse me

Mother, your insanity is my blessing!

Your cry, like a creaking door,
Opens to a lawn of sour,
Your eyes, like a flame of candle,
Pierce to my heart that fails to handle.

And, your insanity is my blessing!

Because, I am not a son of your dream,
The essence that dripped out of the cream,
The life that burns as a wooden window,
The deep woods that drenched with heavy shadow,

Mother, I am not a son of your dream.

The dream of becoming a morning dew,
A song that moves a failing crew,
A dawn, a dusk and a poem with lovely words,
A canoe in search of unknown world,

And, I am not a son of your dream.

See, I am a warrior of a losing battle,
The blood was washed through the rains that clatter,
I see the children playing on the streets,
I do not know, is it sickle or flowers for them to treat?
 
I am not a son of your dream and still away from your curse,
Mother, your insanity is my blessing!.


Details | Ballad | |

Berceuse

Sweet dreams, to you, my precious child,
May you frolic in the meadow of a fairyland.—
Let angels keep your sleep beguiled,
As o'er your cradle doth the sandman softly stand.

Sweet dreams of golden elfin glades
Where the babble of a brook will sing a sleepy song, —
As round your bed float winged shades
To lullaby each slumbered hour the darkness long.

Sweet dreams, until the dawning break
Steals the night away with rosy gleams of beaming sun.—
Then you, my baby, will awake
To gladden days of treasured pleasures every one.

So soon a mourning dove will coo—
There I'll be with loving arms to hold you.
Sweet dreams, and never need you fear,
Blessed babe, for you shall always find me near.

Though happiness may come and go,
For tomorrow joy or sorrow in our fate could lie,
Just dream and grow, my child, to know
Always your mother everlastingly I will be biding by.


– Harley White  

< 1987 >

[Song lyrics to music of 'Trämerei' – by Robert Schumann, (1810–1856) ]


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mom

I saw you Mom! 

I have passed through the thin silvery mist.
scattering the letters like feathers.

Watched it fly over hills then disappear. 

Ah _ how silly I was in the dream! 

Too silly to know how death
would take your smile like wings, 

make of it strange heavenly birds, 
In strange unearthly place,
where nothing withholds the sun but fog.


Details | Free verse | |

Heroin

I am 18 years old
I just found out that I spend most of my time sleeping, 
I am obsessed with it. 
I have lived for 9,460,800 minutes
Most of which I waste on sleep
Sleeping is my personal heroin,
It lets my arms as a pair of wings  to fly me  to paradise.
When I want to escape from reality,    
I shoot it up my veins.

One day, my mom was chatting with her friends, 
When they discussed my studies, 
I looked down at my shoes while their children smiled smugly.
Their smiles struck my wings like lighting
The path to my paradise began to disappear 
I thought I could use my broken wings to open their eyes 
so that they would see my true face
But this was just my imagination
I needed a hit so bad that I slept for 3 days
Feeling likes a puppet, no pain as my strings are pulled
My dream leads me into that sense again,
I looked at their lips and heard their words, proudly I say to her friends, “I am better than your child.”
When I awake, I feel my emotions flood back to me stronger than before

When I was in high school,
I worked so hard but I still couldn’t achieve a score to be proud of
When I see my father’s rough hands, I am shamed by my B Grade Paper.
Then I begin to think what I can do for him, 
I ask: “DAD! Can I go to get a part-time job?

“No, getting back to your studies!”

I prepared to take another shot of heroin
To help me pretend as if nothing happened
I used to think that sleeping would solve my ailments
    But I realized 
I realized that I am escaping
   Like boxers hide behind their gloves 
Like timid warriors escape from the battlefields

These years, I am search in for peace
But opiate feeling blinds my eyes 


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Caesura Aquatica

Voyagers, convene thyselves to return, among us...
Caesura, crown nigh clod, a sylph unwept,
elision thy silhouette, meno thy minuet...
Thine late occurence on thee, wake of cerise sand

Thou belief, like a billow, upon your whitish cheek,
'Twas marina bay, her twaddle a garb of mer,
A henchman docks, thy quay, girdles stymie ebbs,
but he cannot dream aloft a dream she confers...

O'er to woo hand in hand, thou overture unto Sirocco,
Plagues thy pirate ships, quakes men with mar,
His and his only demand, an aegis for lagoons amidst...
Once deluged, sun askew above, one abyss of bagatelles

Deters a tocsin, feign mooting mammals, thy kin a boon,
Aquatica, thee damsel for diminuendos, spurns thy sire,
Her gentle mettle, calls thee, His fervor season calentures...
Aloof thy celestial kisser, nay thy nine, vim domiciles solitary

Doomed skulls ravish, an age id by ice, culls thee, for chastity,
Some may not know, we died to have our love live, over and again,
Amity vows posy littoral seaflowers, buoys colonnades of adventure...
thence, cradles await upon matins, sail thy Oceanus genesis, amen.



Details | I do not know? | |

Patricia

Patricia is the name I always heard 
From the people they called our neighbors 
They said,she's a widow for almost 13 years 
She's to be proud someday by her children 
Because she's a mother who had a great dream 
Not for herself but to her good children 
Behalf of hard work under the heat of the sun 
She use to bear every pain she had 
Just to earn to support every financial 
That her children might get when they needed 
I heard them say that Patricia dream 
To see her children walk in different road 
Where the way of living is smooth 
Years pass,I grow with understanding 
About Patricia I now understand everything 
Why I feel proud when I heard her name 
I feel honor to know the owner of the name 
She's a woman who gave me a chance 
To see the beautiful handmaid of the lord 
I treasure Patricia because she is my Mama. 



Details | Personification | |

My Mother will not curse me

Mother, your insanity is my blessing!

Your cry, like a creaking door,
Opens to a lawn of sour,
Your eyes, like a flame of candle,
Pierce to my heart that fails to handle.

And, your insanity is my blessing!

Because, I am not a son of your dream,
The essence that dripped out of the cream,
The life that burns as a wooden window,
The deep woods that drenched with heavy shadow,

Mother, I am not a son of your dream.

The dream of becoming a morning dew,
A song that moves a failing crew,
A dawn, a dusk and a poem with lovely words,
A canoe in search of unknown world,

And, I am not a son of your dream.

See, I am a warrior of a loosing battle,
The blood was washed through the rains that clatter,
I see the children playing on the streets,
I do not know, is it sickle or flowers for them to treat?
 
I am not a son of your dream and still away from your curse,
Mother, your insanity is my blessing!.


Details | Narrative | |

The Road To Peace- part four

I like to think that I learned how to be a good mother
By never doing it the way that you did.
I know that no matter how hard it gets
I never will take one second with them for granted.

I will love them every moment I have with them
And succeed in making sure they know it.
So that they can grow up surrounded in trust and love
And never be too afraid to show it.

I would never allow their fears to go un-noticed.
I would die trying to protect them from that world.
I will never rush them, or fail to protect them.
They will be free to enjoy being little boys and girls.

Pride will fill me where jealousy filled you,
As I nurture them and watch them grow
Though I cherish their childhoods more than anything,
I look forward to watching their lives unfold.

Of them taking on the world, enjoying its beauty.
Becoming strapping young men and lovely young ladies.
I dream of them finding a love like I found with their Daddy
And of holding my perfect Grandbabies.

I used to want you to pay for my pain.
I used to dream of ways to make you feel like I did.
I still wish you had had more compassion than to lean on me.
You were my mother, I was just a kid.

But I no longer wish you any more pain or revenge
Because I have risen so high above that, I can’t even see you.
Because you’re still in that world I ran so far away from,
Surrounded in that pain I once was so used to

And knowing that I will have everything you denied yourself
Because of your hideous and unforgettable actions,
I am finally free to find more worth while adventures,
Other uses for my emotions, and my passions.

This finality is like cutting through the last bar of the cage
And finally freeing that dark and abused beast.
into the sunlight where she is free and beautiful
Because unlike you, in my children’s eyes, I found my peace.



Details | I do not know? | |

The Dream Of A Baby

Me and my mom sit all alone 
as she hums a very slow tone 
i close my eyes as i dream of life 
and what i will be a girl or a wife
as i drame of what i will be 
i thought of when she sets me free 
i think of what will happen today 
i will always be a step away
i dream what could really last
this beautiful world goes by so fast 
i open my eyes to find it right
the answer was as plain as sight 
it was my mom and what she will be
because at the time i was only three


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Boatman's Song 21/ Many

The Boatman’s Song                                                  21/ Many

The moment the Princess turned, after making her prayer 
She saw him standing and waiting, 
Waiting for her like the Prince charming, 
She had met on the bank of river Ganges

She could not believe for a moment
Whether it was reality, of a dream come true
Her love the dream man was very much there
Standing before her, with a smiling face,
Like the god of love

Next moment, both of them were in each other’s arms
And remained there, for a very long time
His hands touched her silky hairs, and lips touched gently her eyes
She felt as if, she was flying and flying,  
Amid the joy of clouds and love was raining every where,
While her soul feeling, a serene piece within
And her body floating like a bird in the air
She was feeling once again, joy of the moments of ecstasies
Which she had found, in the arms of her love, the boatman,

Her face started blooming, from the stage of glooming
A light of life like brightness, started sparking in her eyes, 
While her confidence and strength, started rebuilding in her heart
As she was struggling, for the last many many days
To find a way and a chance, to see her love the boatman
To save her kingdom from clutches of those,
Who were spreading, their vicious circle everyday 

The boatman knew, that he had not much time in his hands
And both recovered, without wasting that precious time
She briefed him, all about the story of his father the King
And the men, who were trying to dethrone or murder the King,
And even the Princess
She also gave him a sketch of his Uncle, the traitor
Which she made on a piece of cloth, telling him that 
He was the person, to be mainly taken care of  

She also briefed him, where exactly his chamber was
In the Palace and while telling the number of men,
Who may be there to guard that traitor

The Princess said, there is a secret door from the Temple
Which directly goes in the room of the Queen 
So that, her old mother can come directly to this Temple
As and when, she wants to come to see her deity
Without a bunch of guards and without the knowledge
Of any one 

She said, I will be there in the chamber of my mother the Queen
And you can reach there with you men, when every one goes to sleep
There are three hundred soldiers, in side the fort and Palace




Ravindra						to continue     
21/……………..
Kanpur India 23rd January 2010


Details | Free verse | |

Baby Thoughts

            Baby Thoughts

Hugs are babies’ first official language
Followed by triangles, circles, with assorted symbols
Infants pay special attention to white pillows and quilts
Sleep is always on their minds
Flowing over yellow ribbons of light and energy
Babies contemplate squares and rectangles lifted from the fog
They think about animals as fury toys and perceive them thusly 
Images come slowly and they focus on shiny things
They feel their tiny fingers and toes to stay in touch
Letters and numbers are foreign to them now
Yet they understand some things about them in their world
Pink and white dreams of billowy clouds bounce by
They think to take this ride a lot
Streams of life with limited visibility color in the blurs
Shapes of things to come take form in these meanderings 
They know two mountains warm with riches wait for them
Breasts filled with vitamins and milk
They cling to these mounds for nourishment
They rest their heads and think goo goo gaa gaa
It is the foundation of a doctoral dissertation later in life
While mothers voice flows over them like thick warm honey
Babies think of deeper sleep