Submit a Poem
Get Your Premium Membership
spacer

Lost Mother Poems | Mother Poems About Lost

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

12345
Details | Narrative |

Precipice of a Lost Innocence

I am standing outside my bedroom, on the precipice of lost innocence.
Wide eyed, and barefoot on cold hardwood.
Someone is hammering on our front door.
My father, looking a bit annoyed, shuffles anxiously down the stairs.
Tussled hair, a bewildered vein bulging in his forehead,
wearing his old, blue plaid robe, the one with the woven rope belt,
he looks like a lightweight boxer, ready to enter the ring.

There are two grim faced policemen waiting on the front porch.
My mother, at the top of the stairs, clutches the neck of her gown.
She looks as if she might choke herself.
Confused concern, reflects in sleep swollen eyes.

They ask my father,  “How well do you know those folks across the road?”
As they notice me standing on the stairs, they quickly lower their voices.
In a hushed, rather husky monotone, they explain to my father... 
whispering something about a boy who has taken a shotgun out into the hills… 
He has taken his own life…and has been identified as the boy..., 
the teenager, who lives kitty-corner across  our road.
The same kid who mowed our grass when Dad was sick for a spell last summer.
The one who bags Mom’s groceries at the local A & P.
They think I don’t hear them            ……but I do…
and I hear them ask my father, 
      would he,  please, come along to help them break the news?

My father, glazed eyes, and head low, steps away a moment, to quickly dress.
I remember hearing my mother gasp, then suck in a  sob,..
But then is right behind me, pulling me towards her…..
and I can feel her heart pounding, through flannel of my pajamas.
She is squeezing my shoulders..so hard that it hurts,.... somehow I don’t mind.
I look up seeking reassurance,.... her eyes are huge, …
                      and she knows that I have heard…. 
And we both know,...that nothing will ever be the same. 
After this day is over,  the childhood of yesterday, will wear a different face…

Father pulls a coat over his pajama tops, …he gives my mother a touch on the arm.
With a desolate look at me, he touches my head.
He steps out into the darkness of a not quite dawn.
And through the window,  I can see the line of shadows on the lawn.
Three men, like hunched over soldiers, walking slowly into the wounds of a new day.

.............................................
(Sadly,  this is based on a true story)


Details | Free verse |

Motherland's Funeral

In the past, my country
cradled me within her womb,
but our roles reversed.
I held her in my arms,
felt her slip away.

I lost my country today.
Gave her up to synthetic medicine,
deficit spending, 
and pie-charts overseas.

They wrenched her from my arms,
took her from my loving arms
to poke, to prod and draw blood.
I prayed while watching attempts made
at her resuscitation,
as greedy hands held out pens,
prodding me to fill in the proper forms.

The world is on lithium,
the drug has defiled the last drop of clean water.
My country was on lithium,
for her, the vibrant colours turned into dull grays,
and in the end, her heart gave way 
from having spent too many decades 
trapped within a gilded cage.

She had an organ donor card -
her organs were sold off one-by-one
while she still clung onto life.
Her organs were removed,
replaced with waving flags
and roaring stadiums.

Men from every standing, race and creed,
groped Motherland's body
after causing her to bleed.
Many men had laid with her. 
Oh, how they did.
At least some men showed decency,
graced her with meaningful caresses.
But they were far and few between -
between the rape, miscarriages and spoils.

Lithium is being slipped into my drink,
into my food, into the very air I breathe,
so daily I purge,
horrified by my country's overdose.
She looks decrepit, splayed out in the morgue,
a cardboard ticket hanging from a big toe
like an empty, whorish price tag.

I will have to give her a proper burial in my mind,
for they are going to have Mother embalmed,
encase her in a glass coffin,
and put her on display.

Our Mother passed away,
yet the land is here to stay.
I will walk across clear-cut ridges,
pass through neon-lit distractions
as a gypsy vagabond.
From now on, the territorial lines
mean nothing more to me than rules to follow.
The shell of this country remains, 
Nationalism has turned empty-hollow.

I lost my country today.
Gave her up to synthetic medicine,
deficit spending, 
and pie-charts overseas.

I lost my country today,
held her in my arms,
watched her slip away,
felt her slip away.





April 30th, 2012


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) |

The Other Mom

I was laying on the beach
On a hot August morn
A sudden pain in my gut
I knew that something was wrong
It's Eddie.  I felt it so strong
I Picked up my cell and I called
The emotional pain of it all
My body curled up in a ball
I sat up again to be sure, 
the solar plexus was sore
Why to I question these signs
I know that there isn't a cure
For the feelings I want to ignore
He never answered the phone
I packed up my stuff and went home
I worried all day and all night
The sunrise brought more than just light
The loud banging began at the door
I peeked through the blinds to be sure
There were cops all over the street
Guns drawn made the picture complete
I opened the door full of fear
Oh my God!  Why are they here?
My heart dropped, I wanted to hide
When he said "Sgt. White, homicide."
Is your son home he wanted to know
With his foot in the door I said no
Do you mind if we just have a look
And I backed up after biting the hook
They swarmed through the house 
Guns up in the air
Upstairs to his room
They looked everywhere
My solar plexus was right
I'm glad I came home last night
But where did he go?  I needed to know
His innocence still in my sight
The officer said have a seat
Let's talk about where he could be
A boy was found dead in the street
A witness put Ed at the scene
Don't worry he said as I pulled my robe tight
Your son was a victim of robbery last night
I know he's afraid to come out in the light
I didn't believe him.  But I knew he was right.
My son was afraid and now I knew why
He took someone's life who's mother will cry
He was just seventeen a year younger than Ed
Why do these kids seem to be so misled?

What happened that night is a mom's biggest fear
A child was lost in the drug war I hear
The exchange in the alley of weed for the cash
Was a set up to rob him of all  that he had
When the kid put a gun against my son's head
Said 'empty your pockets' or soon you'll be dead
He had no idea that the pocket was packed
With a 38 special protecting the cash
The rest of story is packed in a box
The panic, the fear, the action, the shock
He emptied the gun and ran for his life
While Nicholas bled on the pavement that night
My heart cries to God asking why must I be
The mom of the kid who killed her baby
I cry for her loss as if it were mine
I beg her forgiveness, and I offer her mine.
You don't want to be either one of these moms
Our children at risk, a sign of the times
God please shine Your light on this good Earth today
We're all human beings who've just lost our way.


Details | Free verse |

Jesus You Know His Heart

Once soft meadows so full of life,
now hold shadows, blocking the light.
Words unheard, and dreams untouched,
once your eyes laughed so much.
Distant sounds, still call your name,
within a body silenced by the game.
Love can't touch, and tears can't clean,
that part we know as self esteem.
Yesterdays of you, bring me joy,
recalling back when you were a boy.
Shiny blonde hair, and smiling blue eyes,
my heart forever hypnotized.
As tomorrow comes, and life goes on,
somewhere happiness must belong.
My prayer for you I humbly ask,
may light surround you within God's grasp.
A blessing for me, when you were born,
but somehow evil has sent this storm.
Jesus You know him, but he has lost his way,
hold him tight, don't let him stray.
Bring him safely to me once more,
as the waves get higher on unknown shores.
Lost is lonely, and screaming for help,
but I can't save him all by myself.
I give him to You, as I sit and cry,
a mother in pain, I cannot lie.
Your mother watched, as you died on a cross,
a mother in pain, for her son she had lost.
You gave her comfort, You called her name,
now I give You mine, my heart feels the same.
Bring him safely back into the flock,
as You guide a lost vessel from hidden rocks.
Let him know joy, let him feel rain,
as Your Love gently brings, my son home again.





Details | Elegy |

ELEGY TO LOST CHILD

                                        Elegy to Child Lost


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Victoria Anderson-Throop ©


Details | Lyric |

Solipsist

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
your failure!

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 




Details | Lyric |

Heaven Gained an Angel When I Lost You

Heaven Gained an Angel
When I Lost You

I remember as a child you were always there
Just a phone call away
Is what you used to say
Your voice was always so calming to me
I wish I could hear it now
As my heart is breaking
& 

Heaven Gained an Angel
When I Lost You

I remember when I would hear you were
Coming I would count the days
And then on the day you arrived 
I would ditch dad to go be with you
I was a daddy’s girl yes 
But I was more of a
Grandma’s girl for sure
&

Heaven Gained an Angel
When I Lost You

You knew how to lift me up
When my spirits were down
So many times you gave me 
A shoulder to cry on
You could make me smile even 
When all I could find was a frown
&

Heaven Gained an Angel
When I Lost You

So many times in life when I have been
At a crossroad and didn’t know 
What way to go
All I had to do is think to myself
What would Grandma say?
And I always knew 
What to do
&

Heaven Gained an Angel
When I Lost You

I am going to miss the wisecracks 
You telling me what to do
I am going to miss 
Your wisdom you so readily shared with me
I will always miss the talks we had 
Most of all I will always miss 
You
& 

Heaven Gained an Angel
When I Lost You

So many times you made me laugh
When I felt like I was going to cry
You were the mom I never really had
A Grandma and a
Friend
I really wish time
could stop for just a few
Give me a chance to really say
Good Bye to you
& 

Heaven Gained an Angel
When I Lost You

I know you are
watching down on me
I know your love will always be there
I even know you will always be a part of me
However right now 
In this moment my heart is still broken
It feels as though
someone punched me in the gut
I can’t even catch my breath
I know it will take time
And it has only been a few days
&

Heaven Gained an Angel
When I Lost You

I know my life will go on
I know you would want it that way
However it will never be the same
I don’t know if I will ever get used to 
Not being able to just pick up the phone
Whenever I think of you
Or need someone to talk to 
I have a long road ahead of me 
I wish you were here to walk with me
But I know you will be watching over me 
So here is to you
All the love we shared 
And all the love we will share 
Until we meet again 
Grandma I love you
&

Heaven Gained an Angel
When I Lost You


Details | Villanelle |

mother WHO i HATE

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!


Details | I do not know? |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


Details | I do not know? |

The Women



The Women



(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)






12345