In the world of all comforts,
In the world of absolute care and affection,
In the world of motherhood.
Ten months I was basking, in my mother's womb.
Happiness running down my spine – I thanked God,
His blessing in disguise, rather he in disguise – My mother,
Who is she? How she will be? - I don't know,
Am I her replica? Am I her miniature?
I struggled day after day to open my eyes.
To look at her dazzling beauty and to admire her.
Her hands were made to carry me,
Her arms were made to hug me,
Her shoulders were made to bear me,
My mother, the only person on this whole earth to love me more than I do myself.
I longed to see her face,
Why this ten months vigil? Why not now? My heart bumped!
Days rolled and months passed.
I kicked my way.
A pat on my back,
I cried, it was tears of happiness.
Where is my mother?
Place me on her hands, let me sense her breath,
Let that be the first air I breathe.
With great joy oozing out I slowly opened my eyes.
To see her eyes which is longing to see my eyes.
Mom! With great excitement I gazed.
But it was the blue sky that welcomed me to this new world.
Where is my mother? Where is she? Is she not carrying me?
I searched for her.
Then where am I placed? I looked around.
The cradle squeaked.
Sudden fracas and turbulence hit my ears.
In a fraction of a second I was surrounded by people.
Nobody like me and nobody liked me.
I moved from one hand to another.
But I never smelt my mother.
My mom was missing.
Did she leave me?
I was in a fix.
Yes, she left me.
What made her to hate me even before I was born?
She left me alone in this callous world.
Branded me an orphan,
Made me languish in pain,
Agonize in vain,
My day turned dark and despondent,
My life turned bleak and impotent,
But still my heart longed to see my mother.
I can never in my life hate her.
Because I was in her.
My ire was directed only at God,
He wrote my fate,
He took my mom, what more can I ask,
Nothing can replace her in my life.
I said “My God my first and last wish,
Give every child the power to see even before they were born,
Children like me, who are so unfortunate
Can see their mother's face at least from their womb.
Copyright © MADHUPRIYA SHANMUGAM | Year Posted 2016
Why must the mourning come
with every dawn?
The sky is crying again today.
I heard her sobbing
as I laid in bed.
She would calm down
for a little while,
then it would start up again.
Did I do something
to upset Mother Nature?
I watched in solemn silence
as her tears
streak down my window pane.
I wonder what I can possibly do
to comfort her.
There are no tissues large enough
to wipe away
a streaming flood of sorrow.
Maybe this is just Mother Nature's way
and soon it will pass.
The newborn flowers
open their blossoms
to receive and embrace
Mother Nature is so beautiful
even when she cries.
May 13th, 2014
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
The moon so bold seems cold
with a halo of midnight glow
I sit mesmerized as the night grows old.
I bleed still, even after all these years
and I wait again through the night
aching in the depths of my soul
that no other seems to know
the Loneliness that has become my companion.
In the darkness we wait and confide in the other
our deepest fears as memories fade
in and out each season of change
the nostalgia tempers the wars of pain
this tempestuous foe of ours
wails at the gates of midnight
howling the warble of humanities last grace.
How the comfort of minds and hearts
turn from light to deep dark in the face
of eternities long time clock...
I ache with wanting, with need and passion
it is a lie that time heals and wounds scar
each night is fresh like the first
when I faced realities shock.
Who can wait with me?
Who can hold this hound at bay?
Who can cherish what little love left in me
and make the broken whole?
I ache to be loved again as the love that burns
and waits inside of me.
Who can comfort this emptiness and fill the void
that so many leavings have left?
Cherish and love to honor and protect
but who can slay these demons that hold my heart in wrath?
Who will walk the sulfur clouds of hell to save my mind
and deliver my world to the gates of heaven
with life, not death bridging the distance of pain?
I sit and wait at the floor of the moon each night
waiting for that bridge to carry me yonder,
this moon who hangs heavy and ripe with the yearning of my soul
with clouds aglow as if I could sweep them across a canvas
with the brush held in your hand
I rage at her as I wait, but still I wait and weep
as Loneliness and I keep each others company
wishing the clouds of that great moon could truly create
a way to find the lost, a pathway to home, lit by the legacy our love.
Copyright © tara jennings | Year Posted 2013
The day my mother was taken from me 'Halloween'
fifty she had just turned the golden years she so much yearned
Left partially in a river her body broken and bruised
hidden from sight alone on a many twilight
Painfully I searched for days to weeks and on
knowing a homicide had occurred in the early morning dawn
A man in a drug induced state with no heart of grace 'Winsette' his name
has left me with a lifelong of memory and pain
At times in my heart for him I would wish to destroy
all the evil thoughts for him I felt I would enjoy
But I have learned to forgive so I could liberate my soul
even though he now walks the streets on parole
So on Halloween night there is no candy to give
only a memory of a mother I have lost instead
As I take the long walk to my mother's headstone
I lay a single yellow rose and a sweet candy kiss upon her head.
Dedicated to: My Mother 1939-1989 Never forgotten on Halloween Night
T Reams 9/27/2015 copyright Contest sponsored by: Nayda Ivette Negron
My Favorite Flower Placed 1st
Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015
I wept and I weep.
All my tears cried since that day,
could fill the oceans.
I counted each gasping breath;
the end came with dawn's bird song.
February 8, 2015
For the contest, Tanka Tears, sponsor Rick Parise
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015
sometimes in mass
as sacred songs
wash over me like rain,
I break free
and again you rise,
your tears flow
as tears fill my eyes,
your dying breath
after so many years,
the knife still cuts
and again, and
(20 May 2015)
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
Mother, I pray for your forgiveness as it was me,
I had to let you go and it never leaves my mind;
It was me who made the decision to set you free,
I was the one they came seeking for papers to sign.
There was nothing I could do to change your fate,
I would have done anything even given my own life;
The decision was so difficult and it could not wait,
My heart was stabbed with a blood-soaked knife.
With each gasping, breath you took in this world,
I kept asking is there nothing that can be done;
Oh I hated what had to be, it still twirls and whirls,
I asked the Lord why, why did I have to be the one.
Can you forgive me mother, for letting you go,
You were so kind and sweet and I loved you so.
September 24, 2015
For the contest, Forgiveness, sponsor, Craig Cornish
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015
It’s not what she hears that day
No. It’s what she sees,
The image very nearly killed her
The neighbours say the scream was heard two blocks away
Though she can’t recall hearing what was said
No. It’s what she sees alright
Even to this day, she can feel the envelope
She can see the “WESTERN UNION” through the milky window
She can see the “THE SECRETARY OF WAR DESIRES ME TO EXPRESS…”
What she doesn’t hear, is what the Telegram Boy had to say
She still has the Telegram
Its yellow parchment a little brittle, the typed words
“HIS DEEP REGRET THAT YOUR SON…” a little smudged, tears she guesses
Though she doesn’t remember any tears, they came later
Along with the pain of not knowing, and the sorrow of knowing
Then almost a year to that day, it’s not what she hears
But what every mother would want to see
What every mother would want to feel
And every mother would dearly love to hear
“Hello mum, I’m home…”
8 May 2015
Craig Cornish’s Poetry Contest “A Mother’s Ears”
Copyright © Mark Trichet | Year Posted 2015
Even though you've been gone for a year and a half, at times I still feel lost without you.
When I feel this way, it's so sad and I don't know what I'm going to do.
While you were on your deathbed, I asked God for a miracle when I prayed.
But he still took you after you had been my mother for over four decades.
When somebody has been a big part of your life for that long, it's very painful when they're taken.
When the doctor said you were going to die, I would've given anything if he had been mistaken.
It broke my heart to see you lie in that hospital bed and suffer.
The situation was bad enough but it was bound to get rougher.
Things became much worse when I woke up and saw that you had died.
At times I still feel lost without you and it tears me up on the inside.
[Dedicated to Agnes Johnson (1948-2013) who passed away on March 6, 2013.]
Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2014
Without you, the days are so long
& sometimes it's hard to just carry on.
You gave life & love to all things
The joy of giving was what you would bring.
I see your smile inside my head,
It just isn't fair that you have to be dead.
I know you suffered though all the while
You held your head high & even would smile.
As I watched you go through it, I always had hope,
Even when we came to the end of the rope.
Everything that we went through
Helped make us closer & more loving too.
Through ups & downs you always were strong
Even when you knew you didn't have long.
Life can be kind & cruel in the same,
But you will live on forever because of loves eternal flame.
Copyright © Aimee Rodriguez | Year Posted 2015
Lost amongst the tattered ruins of yesterdays dreams I wander uncertain of my own fate. Screams in the distance pull me back from the edge of loneliness.
I hold onto the pain to stay alive.
Cruelty is my companion as i journey to a destiny yet to be revealed. Strength escapes me on the coldest of nights huddled alone with my memories. The tears fall drowning the giggles that once filled my ears. His face a distant longing. I almost wonder if he was ever there at all.
The pitter patter of tiny foot steps echo in my fears.
Please I wish for them to leave me, and yet I so cherish their haunting lullaby so I can remember what it is to feel joy.
My son you are lost, but I will find you.
A mothers love never dies.
Copyright © Ashley Dibble | Year Posted 2016
If I could take away the pain
and make a story change track,
If it could stem the flow of tide
to chase the darkness back
To see the devastating agony
that tears apart your soul,
here, I'll keen beside your body
wishing It could make you whole
Nobody deserves these losses
that heaped upon your door,
I know if I looked sometimes,
I'd discover you curling the floor
My dearest sweetest friend
I can feel your pain from here,
know if I had white wings
you'd always have me near
My heart is filling with tears
the ones you've shed today,
I'll hold them close forever
until my last dying day
Your love, it held them dear
it shone with exhaustion's eyes,
you've done an impossible feat
its written there in the sky
Their love will keep you strong
when the pain, eats at your core,
and just when you think it's better
grief will overcome you once more
And when the darkest days
start to hit you with a thud,
don't worry my dear friend
I'll be there, we're best buds
So now, silence will be in our ways
until life's hands draw you back in,
Yes, I'll sit with you and suffer
even when the ices turns thin.
And if the Gods made me chose
I'd say, Grief is the hardest pain,
other than a comforting shoulder
nothing will ever seem the same.
My best friend lost her husband last Christmas, the day before yesterday she lost her mum,
This is just my way of letting her know she will never be alone. The suffering is nearly unbearable.
For Carolyn from Jayne love you infinitly.
Copyright © Jayne Eggins | Year Posted 2016
...our community treasured life;
...she wasn't a deer caught in a headlight;
...the law protected you;
...my words had gotten through;
...maybe you would have been born;
...you would be a cause to rejoice instead of to mourn.
"Children are a blessing and a gift from the Lord."--Psalm 127:3
Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2016
The doctor told me, Mom was going away,
so many tears I've cried since that day;
my tears could fill all the oceans and seas in this world,
Mom said to me, don't cry, don't be afraid.
It seems like yesterday.
She said, I have suffered for so very long,
I have fought a terrible battle and I have lost;
And I am so very, very tired, can you not see that child,
I nodded, dried my tears and held her close.
It seems like yesterday.
I stayed beside her bed and watched her sleep,
Holding her hand and counting every gasping breath;
Finally the end came in the light of dawn with birds chirping,
Allowed to cry now, I wept, I wept.
It seems like yesterday.
July 23, 2013
Submitted to contest, Highest Views, sponsor, Casarah Nance, Fourth Place
Submitted to contest, Favorite Old Poem #2, sponsor, Shadow, Third Place
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2013
Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
My Mother caring about all five in different ways
Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays
My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John.
music a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !
Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
The music takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "
My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food
the yelling , slamming of doors , tempers Flare , passion
Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?
Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee
No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
the Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .
Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
Excited in Chicago ! seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
Cubs , museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `
Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones ,
scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
~ That is the Family I Love ,
that is the Family I choose to miss ~
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
I stand at your grave.
I do not know your name.
I know not where you are from.
Where you fought,
nor where you died.
The horrors and pain you suffered,
were not in vain.
The death and destruction brought you pain.
I weep at your grave,
for the life you gave.
I weep for the Mother,
that gave you that life.
I kneel before your grave.
I bow my head in gratitude to you,
The Unknown Soldier.
Copyright © Gypsyof Essence | Year Posted 2013
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
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
I like to wear mask
I wear a mask everyday
This mask I wear for my mom
This mask I wear for my brothers
This mask I wear for my sisters
This mask I wear for my dad
This mask I wear for my aunts
This mask I wear for my cousins
This mask I wear for my uncles
This mask I wear for my grandma
This mask I wear for my grandpa
This mask I wear for friends
This mask I wear for strangers
I've grown so accustomed to wearing a mask, I've even made myself believe it's my face.
It's sometimes painted.
It's sometimes plain
It's sometimes decorated
But even after all that, when the night comes and I'm sitting alone I remove the mask. And out falls everything that I fear.My scars shows.And the darkness finally is let out.
I can cry, silently
My screams are never heard.
But that's alright, as long as everyone else is happy it's fine right?
To be honest, you just sound selfish.
Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes | Year Posted 2013
I Folded My Mother Up
I folded my mother up
Into a creased peace of paper
Folding memories into intentions.
Flattening the dementia of unstructured emotions
Into a neat, file-able document.
We arc this abyss; tightening ropes over time.
We are not our worst intentions,
but we are the acts that follow.
Like clobbering footsteps tripping over
broken pavements of Being.
We are the not sum of our categories
or the crimes that we have witnessed
But we are the balance
That keeps us falling forwards without stumbling
Over our own shoelace sense of time.
Copyright © Igor Goldkind | Year Posted 2015
My Dad was Chicagoan.
He would light up a room just like my Mom.
He loved to fish ! He loved his beer .
He also designed a Octagon home in the 70's
Built custom by hand . I was very proud of Dad .
Alcohol hit our Family , a curse .
He left my Mom when I was 14 in Illinois.
To renew in California , leaving a trail of tears .
Meeting my step mom , my sisters age .
My 2 sisters they were accepted in her world .
Not I , I looked too much Like Mom . Told this all my Life .
She a petite Beauty , RN , real estate Broker .
I did not see why it was wrong to be like mom ?
I moved in with Dad, His new Wife , and 2 sisters
eventually . All three women were competing for my Father .
I was kicked out at 16 yrs.
Years do pass , you try and accept people places and things .
At the end of Dads life , he was calling me once a week .
I ordered a Engraved Clock for the Fathers day coming.
This was a issue for the Wife and sisters , never invited to his new home , 2 Decades ~My little Brother & I , never wanted .
Dad passed suddenly one sad Spring Day . Not one word from his wife , all 3rd party, how and when, Dad Died . being denied the right to his address , even to say goodbye .
Not being able to send my engraved clock .
"Dad Passed " received call from sister whom just stayed a week with me , I took her all around the sites here . "1st day I get call , you should come , 2nd Day after , Dad's been cremated already . " It was a lie.
I went anyway , finding the funeral home, the Funeral Director was appalled at the denial displayed.
He insisted I was given 10 minutes alone with Dad , my Birthright to say Goodbye , he was in dismay over the Hostility towards a daughter ~
I get to this room of mean relative's. His sisters , Mine, angry looks , hearing from a Aunt "What is she doing Here ! " I can't give nor reason or rhyme.
Shame to you and all that participated that wicked day.
Are you Glorified with Power? Denied the right to grieve ,
Left with no sane answers to give in hatred received by Blood . Some , just Spouses , telling me I had no right to Say Goodbye to my own Father , My DAD .
My Dad wanted me there , I know he did . I love Him and will never forget , his youngest girl whom looked like Mom . I know in my heart and dreams he speaks.
We all see when we leave . May God not allow any Son or Daughter to go through such Evil.
Thank-you Poetry Soup for returning my voice .
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
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.
St. Stephen’s college
Copyright © Suyash Saxena | Year Posted 2013
My mother, my grandmother before has always held a place in my heart.
My father, and my grandfather before has the same part.
I was young and very active with unwillingness to listen fully to what they had to say.
I had a problem, never could be solved without my parents and grandparents till today.
With patience they all come to my aid when I fall on my face.
With little dishonor I listen to them and what they had to say, I embrace.
Over the years I go to them with no doubt a feeling of no dismay.
Over the years I go to them and they help me solve problems that to me is O.K.
Now I am getting a bit more aware of what had happen to me when I was growing.
Now I remember how the ride was in my beginning: it was a trial of not knowing.
With the guided words of my parents and grandparents I survive through them all.
With it some being a problem that I remember I recall.
My mother and my grandmother always said to be patient and it will be easy to solve.
My father and my grandfather always knew that I would grow and evolve.
I could wonder everyday what if my parents and grandparents was not in my life.
I could just think that would be fatal like a stab with a knife.
With knowledge that they had past on to me of what they had experience.
With their proof of teachings they had past on to me is their self existence.
Over the years I grew with life so full of happiness that was because of my families love.
Over the years it showed me the path that led me to all the above.
Now cherish those words that help me through my troubles in my new family.
Now I listen to my parents healing words of wisdom and except them gladly.
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Let the Deicide commence.
You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.
I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways
Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own personal reality
Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2013
In the Quiet of the Breeze My Spirit Must Look Back too..... a Darkness that took place.... Unfathomable to Face.... What I didn't See.... Is such a Disgrace... How could I not know.... How could I not see.... How could I not feel How could it be..... I have no one to Blame but Me!! I am so Sorry!! My Darling Daughter xo that ' THIS' has come to be!! May God in his Mercy bring Peace to Your Soul an Set You Free..xo
Copyright © Ninette Carey | Year Posted 2015
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
Copyright © Gokul Alex | Year Posted 2013
I look up high and see a bright star,
That must be my angel
Yes shes a star,
Mom I bet , its so beautiful living
In a castle up in the sky,
My mommy is an angel ,
I wish I could see her fly,
when sum days are hard ,
And reality sets in ,
I breakdown and cry ,
then I see a sparkle and really
Thats when it all made sense ,
I got comfort , from the bright star
way up high
Thats my mommy , shes an angel ,
sitting on the sky
The brightest star,
I love u mom , and think of u no
matter how far
U are ....
I can c u watching down on me ,
Where ever u are...
In loving memory of my mom
Pamela Sullivan -Sheets
Copyright © Jessica L. Sparks | Year Posted 2013
Mother, mother can't you see?
How much are you putting the needle,
Deep inside of my heart?
I know the pain won't go away!
I know you are blind to see the truth!
Pain pain pain,
When will you go away?
Anger, hate & discouragement
Always comes my way!
What am I supposed to do?
I feel alone deep inside,
I feel the empty pressure against my chest,
In a prison of hate,
I am sick of the people who I love,
Betraying me & ruining the trust,
God above who sees your actions,
I hope He will never forgives you,
For you who keep on sin.
One day you will see
Throw my eyes & my pain,
One day you will stop on pretend,
Realize your mistakes,
It will be too late,
I will be gone far away,
I will never come back again!
Copyright © shirin neshat | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)
Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,
they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.
They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,
and white was right in South Africa back then,
but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,
you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.
You, my mother, would not, could not break,
You stood firm, you stood tall.
You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.
You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,
the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,
my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,
by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.
You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.
You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,
you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,
you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.
Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,
all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.
I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,
the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.
I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,
you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,
of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.
I salute you!
(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
Maybe the guff was empty—Cancer full moon eclipse
Left field call on the black wall phone
faint cry from the distant end
spoke with throat lump of capital
disaster and a troddened womans most
everydom—lost before found—somehow Jan
knew and put forth a celestial no comment with
I-hope-I-am-wrong-love gesture for the
love torn bull awaiting a cancerfold friend
offspring no spring-perhaps next spring. Anna
soild Anna so poised of classic stock sometimes
never bending to an antiflexible Taurus mood
was caught in a never place, why of questions-
depleted character strikes. Will the blood
hordes rally for the fallen “fetalrade” and
heal the internal emohurt temperature
inferno of unknown bliss. Does it ever come
at the right instant? Like where’s a cop when
you really need one—maybe 7-11 therapy would
bring solice and peace. Forgive the forgiver
and pass your sense into another ability
Keep your mind and your soul for the little
lost egg. I don’t know know or could never compromise
no more of a complex juxtaposition of life
and death than that of biobeings so
closely connected that share the same
existance, one within-one yet
percent infinity bonded in a tidewater
liquid symbiosis that no manbeing in time
past or future will hope to match let alone
entertain. Be that as it may, you’ve felt the
sting of life and the creation of flesh for a brief
moment of time in time and time is that holder of all
events we hope to achieve—your time in both
will come to be—you will share
and create from within, and not waiver
about the fallbacks we run down for
no explanations from anyone will suffice
or reason to make a whole sense of such
a fathomless inconsistency. I felt your
loss deep in my knees and thoughts flew
to your little soul upstairs. There are words
and there are no words—my deepest senses
to you and Dana—I know it will happen for you
as all things come to pass for those deserving dave collins
Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013
Born into a life of poverty crime and squalor
where hunger and cold winds bite
and disease is rife
and it was a daily battle to stay alive
and find some food to stay alive.
Uneducated illiterate caught in the poverty trap
drinking polluted water
from the same polluted cholera riddled tap.
An impoverished woman
sells her body for a cheap bottle of Gin
and a lodging for the night
while a pickpocket and mutcher
look for a pocket to alight.
The deafening clunk and clatter
of horses and carts on the cobbled ground
and shouts from the street market traders
echo all around.
Children play and run through the narrow
dressed in rags no shoes upon their feet
The putrid stench from the gutter
and thick choking bellowing
smoke from factories
make one heath and make it hard to breath.
Dilapidated hovels and buildings
covered in black soot
horse manure and raw sewage
Beggars with large mournful eyes
reach out pleadingly to the passing gentry
to fill their empty bowls with plenty.
A peeler pins a notice of a forthcoming hanging
at the local Gaol for the few who can read
upon a rusty nail.
A Mother desperate to feed her hungry children
steals a loaf of bread from a market stall
but is soon captured in the sprawl.
The judge sentences her to 10 years
penal servitude far over sea in Botany bay
but she dyes aboard the ship of fever
upon the way.
Her 9 children are sent to the workhouse
for the poor to gain some education
and work hard behind it's hellish door
never to see their Mother or escape poverty
Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2012