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Mother Memory Poems | Mother Poems About Memory

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

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Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Sleepless Night

***
Pillowed feathers,
Caressing a precious moment around my tender skin.
***

Teardrops, bagged eyes, a way of sin
The mirror reveals a lost eternal soul
A conniving move against tonight's phantom glow
Voices circle the insomniac moon
Like magic and beauty, "I AM" gone with the wind

The idea of love, 
broken like yesterdays wishbone.
She is leaving
her arms, my shelter
her wings
her teardrops gone forever. 
Never will she suffer-
Never will she return-
All I have is one last memory
tracing what is left
one last breath
tequila vice
washing away the pain.....


At Last Now I See!
Under the drunken stars 
I had an epiphany 
Striking like a match
A sunken treasure 
At Last I Knew
you don't belong 
you were there for the taking
Weak and sick, no longer sane
Memories lost, no longer -her
My Mother! 
What has become of her?

You're a demon, who played us all
made us cry, while you slowly took her away
the way you ravaged her body
nip napped both her legs
fed her through others
the way she rapidly forgot
our names:
our faces:
I hate you Alzheimer
I hate the way you took her the first time!
I hate you Death
I hate the way you took her that final moment!

Sleepless nights and pillowed feathers,
Caressing a precious moment around my tender skin
Pretending my mother tucked them in
Anything to help me get past my sleepless nights.

by:PD


Details | Free verse | |

Recalling Her

It is thirty six years ago, and I am with her in the garden,
where July is a picnic of egg sandwiches, cress-stippled,
the fuzzy down of peaches, acid-yellow tang of lemonade.
Her fingers have the delicacy of dancers
as she deftly mixes paint on a palette blue as the sky -
blobs of acrylics bright as sweet shop candy.

Summer is a sizzling colour wheel, spinning in its heat hues -
cadmium orange, pyrrole red, gold ochre -
those fever flames that blaze across her page.

My small world is warmed by the sun in her smile.

Russian vine stitches a delicate doily over the shed roof.
The heat-glazed garden shimmers and buzzes.
There is a twilight world under sweet clusterings of lilacs:
a cool shock of shade, pendulous-legged black flies
hovering in the murky mauve.
China white stars of jasmine light my way.
Please keep me close. Let me stay.

*

It is twenty six years ago, a morning of mourning,
and the notes of the dead bells toll
as, mist-muffled, they roll
through November's sleet streets.

I close my eyes and the sun in her smile parts the clouds.

Sober-suited people crush and cluster in pews;
row upon row of perylene black, winter-pale faces titanium white.
Stained glass windows filter and warm the ash-grey light
until her coffin is a vibrant palette of rainbows.

There are stories - lots of stories - anecdotes,
a crimson-backed journal she wrote,
a painting she painted, coffin-propped,
a poetry reading - one of her own -
Tapestry is a wondrous thing, in it the lovely colours sing. . .

Creamed rice-colour roses heap sweet
on her stone - a slate plate serving up a dead name -
and carnations splash cadmium scarlet
like blood throbbing from the gash of grief's raw wound.

*

It is now, and I am alone, taking a short cut home
through evening's rich palette.
Elegiac elms shed viridian tears,
and the sky is a burnt sienna explosion.
October's umber seeps into November's sepia tones.

My mind is coloured with her and then.
I hold a small cameo box that held
the colourful spill of her pills: kaleidoscope planets
orbiting my loneliness, spinning off into nothingness. . .

Dark figures fill the park: silhouettes, shadows
following me home; spirits stepped from her portraits,
faces pushed down into coat collars, crinkled with frowns.

Paint-pinned people in their primaries and pastels,
on canvas, under glass; stopped heartbeats of the past.
Trapped moments on paper and boards.

I close my eyes and see the sun in her smile,
recall how, since her passing, life has become a free fall,
a parapet leap without parachute.

And the smudged charcoal lines of memory
are beginning to blur, fading like her watercolours. . .





in memory of my grandmother


Details | Free verse | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
 
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell


Details | Quatrain | |

‘The Airplane Crossing Clear-Blue Sky'

My white-washed bars surrounded me -
they held me as I slept;
they soothed me when the days were long,
and mother’s blue-eyes wept.

A baby girl, six months or less,
awakened from my sleep -
stood up legs as sure as hope;
as strong as flat is steep.

My hands, my saviors, gripped the rail
so I could peek outside –
the bluest sky I’d ever seen,
As tall as it was wide;

came into view - between the blue,
an airplane gliding by,
its smoky streamer like a flag,
across my memory’s sky...

The memory is a simple one -
a window, sky, and plane -
but in my heart, it's heaven's door
and there it shall remain.

I’ve hung it on my memory’s wall
Between that life and this –
It covers every hole I’ve dug
In sorrow’s vast abyss.

This picture brings the special peace
I knew when I was small –
Where mother’s just beyond the door,
and waiting for my call…



*Inspired by Danielle's Earliest Memory contest. I have blocked out almost every memory 
from my childhood, and only a very few gems remain - this is the first. and I will treasure it 
always...


Details | Free verse | |

Childhood trifles

those days the sun flew like corn flour 
freshly ground at the millrace 
even in winter it was yellow  
when I pressed it down with my thumb 
like an unfastened button on my chest 

I hardly cut my way with a stick 
through the tall weed field 
until my knee high socks 
were filled with thistle tassels 
jumping over the fence like a thief 
into our apple orchard
so no one knew where I was 

when the Big Dipper rose over the barn 
I slipped on the manger’s opening
inside freshly cut grass 
stealing my grandma’s small chair for milking  
singing for the young foal with caramel skin 

those days all hearts were red and warm 
in the shape of a gingerbread heart 
each star was a story 
whispered by fairies in the daffodils’ glade


Details | Rhyme | |

Your Eternal Flame

During the Christmas holidays a candle is continuously lit.
       It is in your memory to let you know I'll never forget.
Each year that passes gets harder than I like to admit.
       I sit by the fire reminiscing while I smoke a midnight cigarette.
Your vanilla scented candle burns on the coffee table.
       I admit when you passed I wasn't mentally stable.
You would be proud of me because eventually I pulled myself together.
       I remember you warned me so many times you wouldn't be here forever.
You were my superwoman, I believed you were tough as steel.
       This candle along with your memory helps me to heal.
It's kinda like you're right here with me.
       I think of you as I put each ornament on the Christmas tree.
Tears roll down my cheek as I whisper your sweet name.
       Inside my heart resides your eternal flame.



*I love you momma Merry Christmas Queen.....
Billie Jean Alexander Lopez...May 1, 1937 - July 26, 2007


Details | Blank verse | |

Mazel tov Cinda

At old age you chose to risk again The pain of begetting a child in your sixties You chose to give love to another soul in the world Papa doesn’t know what is going on But there is something going on You just don’t know how to say it It has happened and you cant deny it Another child is coming Like Sarah you don’t understand this How possible can it be? Yet you believe With God all things are possible You feel it and you can now see all the signs You are expecting The pain knocks You bite your lip With your hands Hold your tummy With a twist And strength It has been long since you last went through this There is nothing like experience Pain is pain Each pain is dynamic It’s the same pain but different Papa knows now You are about to deliver He puts down his cup of tea Forgets his hat Because of the noise He knows that sound As each inch of your muscle tightens Your scream is heard in the city Its like you are pulling your lip over your head sweating and panting You realize it now done A smile of victory shines on your face News spread A poet Has given birth to a poetry tot And its A baby boy Born to the Carter Mazel tov! Cinda


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Reflections of You

Somewhere in deep recesses of my mind
I try to picture my great- grandma's face.
She left no photograph of self behind,
But I dream of her dressed in bits of lace,
Tatted perhaps, by her artistic hand.
Her sewing genes survived but not in me.
She lived, labored and loved and then she left
No memories for future progeny.

I've traced her name, it is all I can do
To give her substance and to make her real.
She was a living being who could cry,
Could laugh and all other emotions feel.
There was a time I could have asked my mom
If there were things about her that she knew.
That chance is gone and is forever lost,
No one is left who could offer a clue.

Dear Grandma I lend you my willing pen.
Reflect upon the life that you once led.
Be free to speak about your memories
And say the things you wish that you had said.
There must be lots of stories left untold
And lessons great-grandchildren could have learned.
Dear Mollie Blosser, I'd love to record
The place in hist'ry you have richly earned.


By;  Joyce Johnson


Form  Iambic Pentameter



Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

My Dad

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 .


Details | Free verse | |

Grandma

There's not much to say.
I knew her, know some things,
but certainly not all.

I know how little she put up with fools,
how her cooking surpassed so many others',
how simultaneously sweet and hard she could be.
I know about her smoking,
about her jewelry, her faith,
all these I'll hold close to me.

Every single spark, every star,
shines with such a glow, such a marvelous radiance,
that we can't gaze too closely at it,
lest we cause ourselves pain.
And yet, despite ourselves, again and again,
we do;
because it's not within us to resist
the sheer beauty of it all,
of stories and of life.

A bouquet of tulips for you.
We all miss you already, Grandma.
I miss you.
I know Heaven's got you, taking no guff as always,
making sure we're all doing alright.
I love you.
Andrew James (McGillicutty) Sprouse


Details | Rhyme | |

White ghosts in Granny's kitchen

it started for me and my grandma always 
on those rare  but special Saturdays
the grandmother and granddaughter festival of preparations 
for Sunday's after-church celebrations

the backing of the best  cinnamon-sugar -cake
grandma's and my quality time to bake
we talked and shared our secrets of life
I was even allowed to use her sharpest bread knife

just the two of us throwing remaining pounce  
creating our beautiful and beloved  floury gowns
laughing loud with tears all over our white faces 
and countless most heartfelt warm embraces

cleaning the antique black and green kitchen was another highlight
as well as the two missing slices for our well-deserved sneaky bite
grandma's great excuse: the cake broke into two 
our secret two-disappearing-slices-of-cake coup 

all those emptied flour sacks we could never hide
were  transformed into something itchy, white and wide
I wore them always with the hugest possible smile
despite and thanks to the formless but exclusive floury white-ghosts style

©Ellie Daphne

PS. She did not give me 'just' h e r recipe for this great cake but also her recipe for 
my life..................


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 | Light Poetry | |

ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU

I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.


Details | Free verse | |

Midnight Lullaby

I wrapped all my tears, to see you smile.
you are the best, always by my side.
I tell you my feelings will get you crying,
you must think I’m out of my mind.

You don’t know, what I know,
all the angels let me go.

We were born to teethe and die,
you will grow to be so fine.
Fall in love, feel your softer side,
Remember me when life is kind.

When you go, let me know,
don’t walk away like the world and go.

Life is rough and the world unkind,
fight them down and you will be fine.
The truth of live is a brutal sight,
make no mistakes, you can learn from mine.

You have a strong heart, you are unique
I treasure times when you smile at me.

Live the life, I could not find,
be there for me, when I say goodbye.


Details | Verse | |

Sweet Little Girl Nursery Rhyme

Missy, missy little girl
With your blonde hair in a curl
Daddy's baby, momma's dream
Come let us catch a moonbeam

A moonbeam for your night light
A shooting star your wishing rights
Daddy's baby, momma's dream
Let us catch and hold a moonbeam

 
To the rhythm of : 
Fishy, fishy in the brook
Daddy caught him with a hook
Momma cooked him in the pan
And I ate him like a man

A nursery rhyme that my mother taught me as a child...

Sponsor: Debra Squyres
Contest: Nursery Rhyme


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 | Narrative | |

A Genuine Memory of Love

Wish I could rewind the hands of the clock,
Only love songs with you I'll slowly rock.
There's many things I didn't get to say,
You left me & gone on a rainy day.

I still didn't give you that gift,
Just once more in my arms, you I wished I'd lift.
Your many attributes & words I did admire,
Like Jesus is the only way to escape Hell's fire.

A granny so awesome you showed that you care,
And a strong shoulder needed you were always there.
Teach all daily to do what's right,
And there's victory for us if we unite.

How can I forget whenever you call,
A short prayer was said for me & all.
I'm ever thankful for your blessings & love,
I'm guilty for not giving you what you deserve.

Through grief & pain you were holding strong,
Still hoping your days on earth were more long.
But you will always stay deep in my heart,
Because of the great things to me you taught.

"Don't trod the road that's broad & wide",
I'm trying hard so I'll see you on the other side.
Surely you're up there looking down,
With flowers, white dress & a golden crown.


Details | Free verse | |

For An Abused Child

If I Could Have Gotten Your Embryo
Before You Were Born
I Would Have Sheltered You Safely
and Protected Your Form ...

I'd Have Put You In My Womb
& Flowed You Knowledge Like In A Tubric
& Patted My Expanding Belly
As I Played You Music

And As You Got Ready
To Arrive From The Birth Canal
You Would've Known My Breasts
Would Be Ringing Like Welcome Bells! ...

Eager To Suckle You
Breast Feed My Own Flesh & Nourish
So You Could Grow Strong
... In Love's Encourage

I Would've Held You In Wonder
& So Close Tenderly
Amazed At This Little Bundle,
Breathing, Piece of Me ...

And When You Turned One
Or As You Sucked Your Thumb
Or Eating Baby Food Jars of Plums
... I'd Have Given You Trumpets & Drums

... And Building Alphabet Blocks
& Superman Capes
& Stuffed Teddy Bears
& Oatmeal Cookies & Grapes

I'd Have Read You Stories
From Capt. Adventure Books
You'd Have Known You Were Loved
By My Proud Mama Looks

I'd Have Spent Time With You
Showing You How To Tie Your Shoe
Rocked You If You Caught The Flu
or Any Sniffles You Went Through ...

I Would Have Played With You
& Prayed With You
From Crawling To Walking
Paved The Way For You

Yeah, I Would Have Fussed At You
& When Needed Even Spanked You Too
& I'd Meant: This Hurts Me More Than You
'Cause You're The Little Symbiot, Mama Grew

So, You Would Have Known
You Were Loved & Treasured
You Would Have Known
Your Worth Couldn't Be Measured

Nor Compared To Anyone Else
At Any Point In Time
'Cause You Are The Best
Because You Were "Mine"

* * * * * * *

But I Never Knew You
But Believe Me If I Had ...
I'd A Made Sure You Had 
A Loving Mom & Dad

And You Would've Never Been Abused
Or Treated Bad ...
But From Now On Find Your Joy
To Replace What's Sad


            Written & Copyrighted ©:  9/12/2013 
             by:  MoonBee Canady


Details | Couplet | |

What Do I Know About Being German

Born American, sixth generation of great-grands all German,
not much liking sausage or sauerkraut, English speaking all the way,

except the Germany of my ancestry was fought over and broken
so I’m a bit of France, Germany, Poland, Hungary all the Holy

Roman empire, dissolved down, fought over, egotized, horrified 
and remade Into some new state where English is as common as German.

We share a love of flowers in the face of cold and rain, I drink less beer
and wine, meet up somewhere, anywhere around the world on a beach.

From my parents and grandparents, I know to serve up too much food
seven sweets, seven sours and drink and whirl the night away to a band.

Hardworking sorts, unafraid of a little dirt, loving dirt, the turnover
and young sprout brought to fruit, wearing overalls and then washing up.

To sit before a pressed linen table cloth, served up on the finest china,
the cha in my father’s name, the uff da, and other exclamations.

The morning rosaries, the blessed churches where we give thanks for all good
and the setting aside of pride while we work together to make our food.

Sure there are aprons for cooking. Shorts for summertime. A dive into any pool.
What do I know of being German, not much, it's just somewhere in my roots.


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)






Details | Elegy | |

Mom-N-Me

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

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


Details | Couplet | |

Dear Rapunzel

It seems ages since we met over your long, golden hair
an hour glass on the table keeping the meter.

It seems like too many dress up doll days when we played
take me to the river but don’t get our feet wet.

It seems we lost our inner selves painting our faces
painting our nails, singing karaoke at the bars.

Oh, to regain those lost years of our youth, unwrinkled skin
turn back all the pages, like winding gold on a spindle.

Instead we have just leaves, grieves, and grandchildren
with their laser guns, plastic skin and smug attitudes.

They never challenged gamey little midgets with foul intent
they had us to pad them safely with money, love and scent.

Dear Rapunzel, do please let your hair down one more time
and play climb out of the cellar and up the apple tree with me.

Signed Your Dearest Play Mate.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Rain and Wind

The wind blew events all over the place.
Intense emotions and it gave chase.
Lightning lighting to show us the sky.
People try to sleep and not cry.
Wisping by the wind keeps us awake.
The time trying to sleep the storms take.
Chills in everyone gives all shiver.
The clouds surrounded by moonlight is silver.
Heavenly prayers that the rain will stop.
The flood stopped a car the person in it was a cop.
People have seen such devastation.
The road that people made was week in creation.
Rivers near by was over flowing.
Trees that were there was not showing.
By the hour it claimed many.
My father woke up and did not see any.
Floating by was a boat.
Keeping people above water and a float.
My father kept a canoe.  
That some day we would use it, that he knew.
Time to paddle up and down the street.
The rain water kept getting on our seat.
It was so dark after the moon was behind the cloud.
Still the noise of thunder still covered the ears loud.
The smell of moist water never seem to go away.
My brothers seem to still sleep anyway.
My head was bobbing up and down.
I was so tired that I could not hear a sound.
The wind blew back and fourth.
It seems that my mom and dad paddle their worth.
Till all the people we saw with grace.
Help us out with embrace.
The time was so late at night.
Everyone was so sleepy and losing sight.
The fight with the weather was so hectic.
The feelings of energy was electric.
Losing to such natural disaster is hard to understand.
When people working hard to block the river with bags of sand.
With hard workers like my mom and dad.
They make things happen that is not bad.
Rough with weather they experience more than ever.
Leaders they are they are very clever.
From the night light of street lights to the morning glow.
The wind did not stop so.
Bringing in more clouds that ill.
The people who were still tired still had will.
The rush of water and waves blasting push the wall side.
Pushing and the force brought water inside.
The battle of our hour was getting long.
Backup people came to aid us was strong.
Rested they were to keep everyone with hope.
The people stopped the water with the strength of rope.
Heavy rain and loss of homes bring people together.
It is kind of sad that this was the only time to gather.
Chaos comes happiness how true.
This is why we are human that gives us a clue.
It is our nature to keep rain falling.
To know when it is time for our calling.
The winds bring such pain and sorrow.
That is why rain sometimes fallow.








Details | Bio | |

A Man Stood Part II

A Man Stood Part II Story/poem A man was standing by his window on a cold winter day. He was thinking about his past, when a phone call came. It brought him back to reality. He answers and says hello. the other voice says - hello, are you Ben? He says - yes, but who are you? The voice said - before I answer. I have a question. he said - alright. Are you married? He said no. The other voice said - I'm the blast from your past. For a moment, he stood quiet, than he asked - are you my Lucy? The other voice said yes I am. Suddenly the past has come back to hunt him. He reflexes for a moment. Then he asks - where is my daughter? His memorey has not left him yet. He remembers that he has another daughter. many questions he had. He wanted to know many things. He found out that he had grandkids. His daughter was living in another state, but his grandkids were very close to him. He got to meet the oldest granddaughter and her kids that day. He got to meet his daughter two months later. All was going well, until he found out that his daughter was not the perfect child. Their relationship did not go well after that. Of course the mother was to blame. she had not raised her daughter right. The mother is always to blame. all I can say is that we do what we can in life. I got to see him seven months later, after I found him. It had been forty years. A lot can happen in forty years, people change. He looked very different. He said that he had loved me a lot. The thing is that he had a strange way of showing it. The relationship with his daughter is not good. She don't talk much to him. He still lives alone. I got to meet his cat. He never again got married. He now has plenty of time to think. We don't know what the future holds. All I know is that this is not the end. Life brings us many surprises. When the past comes back to the present - what do we do?
01/07/2013 Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo. To be continued


Details | Epitaph | |

Mama Cried

Mama cried when Papa died,
he was killed by a drunk on the interstate;
but Mama stopped shedding tears,
for she had a daughter yet to raise.

Mama cried when Becky died,
she was killed by an abusive husband;
but Mama stopped shedding tears,
for she had a grandson yet to raise.

Mama cried when Bobby died,
he was killed by an IED in Afghanistan;
but Mama stopped shedding tears,
for she had her own life yet to live.

No one on earth cried when Mama died,
she was killed by a deranged drug addicted junkie
for the seventeen dollars and change she had in her purse;
but the angels cried in paradise when Mama died.


Details | Tanka | |

Sweet Raspberry Kisses


Baby, when you’re grown
cradling your own darling babe.
Remember your days
of sweet raspberry kisses,
rhymes and twinkling lullabies.

I will remember
the sweet sound of your babble
through bubbling laughter, 
your pudgy, little fingers  
and wide-eyed wonder, always.


for Andrea Dietrich's SWEET or SALTY? Contest,
10/17/13



Details | Haiku | |

COTTON CANDY

                   "Voluminous sweet
                            She bought me one and then leave
                                      On her grave I give".


Details | Free verse | |

Grandma's refrigerator cake

Times were lean but life was good
When waste not, want not we understood
In the refrigerator all leftovers would accumulate
Come the weekend Grandma scraped it all onto a plate
She really cleaned it out; nothing was excluded
All were mashed and diced with sugar and spice included
Beaten batter with raisin thrown in; placed in the oven to bake
Thick butter frosting placed atop surely completed her refrigerator cake
All the grand kids now gathered about; to taste a slice so savory
Not only did we each get a piece of cake; we also got a memory


Details | Lyric | |

In The Rain

Written June 6, 2013


The preacher read the gospel
And we sank into our tears
Tearing down the curtain
We've been behind for all these years

A baby leaves its mother
An angel drops its wings
Leave me bound against the wall
Dangling by a string

Sitting by the window
Hoping she'll remember me
Sitting by the window
Contemplating memories

Resolve your inhibitions
And you'll find me in the garden
Where the flowers drink champagne
And God is in the rain


Details | ABC | |

To My Mother RIP

We've had our differences, we've had our fights,
Now you're gone, yet I’m doin alright.
A month and ten days it'll be four years,
I miss you mom, and I wish you were here.
It was crazy times and a war,
But I still wish you were here and we'd party at the bar.
I think of you often and miss your voice,
But it's not like we had any other choice.
One day we shall meet again,
And who knows... Maybe next time we could be friends.

Love you. R.I.P. Teresa Marie Reese (8/13/1964-8/18/2009)


Details | Quatrain | |

The Echo of a Soul

The Echo of a Soul 
By Andrew Weeden 

In the windswept hills of vibrant green, 
Here I sit at your lonely grave. 
The bright flower that made my heart beam, 
Is the wilted flower I could not save.  

From the beginning I did not know, 
I was oblivious from the start; 
Cancer’s blade cut away your happy glow 
And would thrust to pierce my very heart.  
 
Consumed in the darkness of raging anger, 
Ten years I stand alone in the rain. 
With death no longer a distant stranger; 
My only companion in the storm of pain.  

Now it seems no one remembers, 
But you did not cease to be. 
Your spirit still burns in glowing embers 
And lives inside the fire in me.  

The storm is passing; I finally see its end. 
Happiness smiles again and shakes me to my core.  
I realize every time I lift my pen 
My Grandma speaks once more! 

Reflections of your love 
Weave tapestries in time. 
As a singing mourning dove, 
Your words whisper in my mind. 

So though you had to go, 
You remain in your begotten; 
As an echo of a soul, 
Gone but not forgotten. 


Details | Free verse | |

Beneath the Furrows Beneath the Lines

Beneath the deep furrows
and the facial lines
clear sparkling
cheeky little girls
playful eyes
still smile
and shine.





''Many a time when I have talked to old people who I love, about their childhood, suddenly
something magical happens. Their eyes sparkle, and they become children again.''



Peter Dome.copyright.2013. Dec.


Details | Narrative | |

Vesper

Her eyes, though once bright, are cloudy,
Shrunken and fragile the form
That long was brimful of vigor
And a will to outlast life's storms.
She stares past a blank horizon
Through a door that I do not know;
The colors she sees are mem'ries,
Scents and sounds of the long ago.

A kaleidoscope of faces
Turns merry-go-round in her mind;
While trees out her window whisper
Soft lullabies long left behind.
The sound of my cheery greeting 
Draws her back to this metal room,
Away from a creaking rocker
And her mama's sweet, gentle croon.

If is not my name she whispers
As I bend down to kiss her cheek,
But a name more dear than ever
Mine was is the name that she speaks.
"Papa," the feeble voice quavers.
I'm no more a part of her world;
The grandma that soothed my sorrows
Is once again Papa's wee girl.


Details | Narrative | |

L O M L Always

The thought of her smiling gave me faith
From when we were little we bathe
My mother and her mother is best friends
They both took care of us and gifts they send
We pulled each others hair
And she was always quick to dare
When I smiled at her she knew it was no good
She learned to pull me up and she understood
I just wanted her attention and that she gave
She knew it in her heart love was my slave
From when we were a child with full of energy I had my way
She was the one who was my guide and she did not push me away
When I saw her cry one day and her eyes was so sad
I gave her a flower and I smiled at her and made her glad
When some one special leaves her heart
I sat by her and never wanted to depart
She is the love of my life always
She is the one who gave me my hope through out my days
So I gave her my heart and love from within
And I did not make it thin
I stood by her side since I was a child
I gave her my support when we were wild
She knew who I was and I let her go the distance
I did not hate her or give her resistance
My mother and her mother are great friends and their virtue will never end
Because of their love they both trusted us to live our ways to transcend
So my childhood friend was my best friend, and now my wife
She new it from the start that we part of each others life


Details | Rhyme | |

One Last Toast

I think that I shall have a drink 
and toast to you and all you think
'bout love & hate & art & war &
what this life is really for. 

Giving, taking, making, breaking 
lonely hearts club band;
reaching, preaching, teaching, leaching 
blood sucking beggars with outstretched hands.

I think that I shall have a stink
and tell the world before I blink 
that all is well as well can be 
So kiss my glass and bow to me.  

Just below my drunken stem
Connected to my brain, my friend
You know the one that makes you bumble 
and people laugh each time you stumble.

Down upon your royal spot
Licking your wounds with all you've got
Until you get right back up again
With a head that aches & pounds & spins.

And I think that I shall pour another
in honor of my departed mother 
and dad as well who passed away
Here's to where they are today. 


Be they high up in the sky 
Or somewhere quite unfathomed
Beyond our wildest hopes and dreams 
And the completely unimagined.

Where now I reek & no longer speak
from too much of this brew 
where the ice is melting rapidly 
on folks like me and you. 

So one last toast before we're ghosts 
and life was a sweet chardonnay...
Here's to those who brought us here 
And all their love along the way. 


 


Details | Rhyme | |

Mother Tongue

Sometimes i wish/
Her tongue/
Got louder/
When she speaks/

Feeds/ 
Baby tummies/
With history’s breeds/
Sky screening haters/

With her tongue/
She rapes/
Spring-cleaning haters/
She like it when she rapes/
She’s ours/

Though she’s vulgar/
She sees no blunders/
Her tongue grows rounder/
She feeds the universe/
Reaching sky roofs/

Hiding biters/
Verse after verse/
Poetry is ludicrous/
Her kids think/
She burns her tongue/
Sky screening haters/

Trying to taste her rhymes/
Controversies/
Political babies/
In vernacular/
Her poetry is hot/

In mix taped lingo/
Her poetry is fire/
A spark burning liars/
Flat tires/
Tears get verbalised/ 
Daughter of earth/
Born to live forever/

My mother's tongue


Details | Bio | |

ETERNAL GRATITUDE

ETERNAL GRATITUDE

(Dedicated to the memory of my parents*)



My beloved parents,

Humbly,
Before the altar of your memory I kneel
Wishing this little “poem” of mine to offer
A down payment of my eternal gratitude
For bringing me to life

Undeniably difficult it is for me
All you have done for me to name
So, only to a few of your actions I will refer
Forgive me for having only that to say

Worth mentioning, you would agree, 
Are the things both of you have shown: 
Your heroism, your suffering, your selfless sacrifice
For up to bring the family and to keep all of us alive    

The nights, I remember vividly, you passed 
Standing at my side, trying to help me as you could
When the threshold of death I approached 
Thrice, ready for the dark oblivion to fly 

Also the days when both of you valliantly
Struggled a slice of bread to find,
To feed all the six of us
To help us to survive

Your health, your youth, your leisure
Both of you, did, for us surrender
Leaving thus this ephemeral world
Just in your early forties

Your anguish only to imagine I can 
How alone we would survive
For all the six of us children were
From three and up fifteen 

Your souls now aware are 
That orphans are by GOD adopted
Each having nothing more to fear
For are by HIM PROTECTED

In peace let your souls rest
Close to our divine FATHER
For your children, children have
And they, in their turn, have children!


© Demetrios Trifiatis
   09 February 2013


* I come from a very poor family of eight. Two died when infant, the other six have survived and live in four different continents: Europe, Asia, America, Oceania, having children and grandchildren. Thus my mother’s Wish to have many children so they spread out and “Occupy” the whole world, has been  materialized in the most part! Thank GOD for granting my mother her Wish! Myself have lived, studied and taught in Canada for eighteen years. Members of my family live there and they have children and grandchildren.   


Details | Quatrain | |

Time

They say that time heals all
Yet there never seems enough
To say the words, to give your love
A mother always dies too soon

You try to make it linger
As her age increases yearly
You pray that God will spare her
Because you love her dearly

But when the days get tedious
She’s sick, alone and weary
You pray that God may take her
Because you love her dearly

Mother, we will miss you,
Your love, your care and support
You have given us your all
And triumphantly defied life’s challenges

You were so busy caring for others 
That you forgot about yourself
In honour and in gratefulness, we say
Sweet mother, dearest oma*, may you rest in peace

Rest peacefully now your time has come 
May angels guide your way
The time has come...yet 'tis oh so hard
To see you on your way

*Oma is dutch for Grandmother


Details | I do not know? | |

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims.


When hot lead tears the flesh of a 14 year old girl,

ripping through her skull,
leaving her to bleed out and die,

does Allah not recoil in horror,

to see His child whimper,
to see His daughter cry.

Where is the indignation,

the anger that often boils over and manifests itself as flags and books and videos are burnt in mass orgies of hollow piety,

where are the voices that scream so loud,
that denounce all but their own creed,

where are the men, the impotent men who crave for nothing more than their fascist egos to feed,

where are the voices that so loudly proclaim,
enemies here and enemies there, always quick to condemn,

where are those voices when the enemy walks amongst them.

14 year old Malala Yousafzai was shot in cold blood,

her crime?

Advocating the rights of girls to an education.

Shame on you, men of bigotry and men of cowardice.

Shame on you, silent and mute accomplices in this carnage.

Shame on me,
for my inaction,

Shame on us all,
who proclaim lofty ideals,

yet are conspicuously silent,

when a 14 year old girl is shot in the head,

by fascist fundamentalist bigots who only worship bullets of hot lead.

Not in my name!

Not in my name,
shall the cowardly men rain down abuse,

Not in my name,
shall the bigoted men light the communalistic fuse,

Not in my name,
shall Malala Yousafzai be shot in the head,

left to bleed out,
while countless mothers' tears are shed,

not in my name,
shall religious murderers,
be left to wander free,

not in my name,
for I dare all believers to open their eyes,
to see!

To see,
the innocence of a 14 year old girl,
wanting only an education,

as the men of the cloth,
prance around with their pathetic self-righteous indignation.

I write this today,
the anger raging in my veins,

yet I fear,

that I shall write more of this,

unless we stand up and say 'no more',

I fear that I shall be writing this again,

until we all,

reclaim the true principles of humaneness,

until we silence the voices of bigotry,
of rage,
of fanatical insanity,

I fear I shall be writing this again,

and,

until the muck-ridden bile,
is not excised,

I shall continue to say,

NOT IN MY NAME!

Or else I shall have nothing,

but my unending shame.



(for Malala Yousafzai, 14 years old, in a critical condition after being shot in the head by the Pakistani Taliban, for her work as a young activist advocating the rights of girls to attend school)


Details | I do not know? | |

REST IN PEACE MUM ANN BROWN 18 AUG 2011

MUM ...

WHERE DO I START? I DON'T THINK THERE IS WORDS , TO EXPLAIN HOW I AM 


FEELING ABOUT THE LOSS OF YOU... BUT I WILL USE ALL THE STRENGTH YOU HAVE 


GIVEN TO ME , SO I CAN GET THESE FINAL WORDS OUT THE GUILT , SADNESS AND 

REGRET  FROM NOT SEEING YOU LIKE I WANTED TO  SO ****ING MUCH ,

 THEN THE PAIN OF NOT HAVING  A CHANCE TO SAY "GOODBYE" TO THE MOST 

BEAUTIFUL MOTHER COULD WANT, AND YES MUM I'M TALKING ABOUT YOUTO HOLD 

YOUR HAND, TO SEE YOU SMILE , TO HEAR YOUR VOICE, WOULD MAKE MY LIFE MORE 

WORTHWHILE. YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO LIVE, BUT YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO 

LIVE WITHOUT YOU I MISS YOU SO SO MUCH MUM, BUT THE LOVE IN MY HEART FOR YOU , WILL MAKE SURE 

YOUR LIFE , LOVE , WARMTH AND TOUCH , WILL LIVE ON FOREVER , 

IN ME I KNOW THAT YOU CHANGED ME , JUST FROM YOUR 

PRESENCE...THATS'S HOW STRONG YOU WERE MUM I KNOW YOU HAVEN'T LEFT ME , 

FOR THE LOVE IN MY HEART REMAINS , YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO SUFFER AND YOUR 

BODY WILL FEEL NO PAIN...... GOD TOOK YOUR HAND , AND MADE US PART , HE CLOSED 

YOUR EYES , AND BROKE MY HEART ....FOR ALL THE TIMES WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER,

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR FACE.

THERE IS NO MOTHER ANYWHERE LIKE YOU,

NO ONE COULD TAKE YOUR PLACE.

IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE LEAVING,

I GUESS I EXPECTED YOU TO FOREVER LAST,

ALL OF THE DREAMS OF US IN THE FUTURE,

ARE NOW BUT MEMORIES OF THE PAST.

GOD TAPPED YOU ON THE SHOULDER,

HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW,

THAT YOU WERE GOING WITH HIM,

TO THE SKY SO BEAUTIFUL BLUE.

ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER SEE YOU MUM,

ARJAY WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE,

HE'S GONNA HOLD YOUR HAND,

AND LEAD THE WAY,

FOR HE WILL BE YOUR GUIDE.....

I LOVE YOU MY MOTHER.....
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU UNDERSTAND, 
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU KNOW,
DON'T TELL ME THAT I WILL SURVIVE,
HOW I WILL SURELY GROW.
DON'T TELL ME THIS IS JUST A TEST,
THAT I AM TRULY BLESSED,
THAT I AM CHOSEN FOR THIS TASK,
APART FROM ALL THE REST.
DON'T COME AT ME WITH  ANSWERS THAT CAN ONLY COME FROM ME,
DON'T TELL ME HOW MY GRIEF WILL PASS,
THAT I WILL SOON BE FREE.
DON'T STAND IN PIOUS JUDGMENT OF THE BONDS I MUST UNTIE,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO SUFFER,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO CRY.
MY LIFE IS FILLED WITH SELFISHNESS,
MY PAIN IS ALL I SEE,
BUT I  NEED YOU,
I NEED YOU YOUR LOVE UNCONDITONALLY.
ACCEPCT ME IN MY UPS AND DOWNS,
I NEED SOMEONE TO SHARE,
JUST TO HOLD MY HAND AND LET ME CRY,
AND SAY, MY FRIEND I REALLY DO CARE
Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me


Details | Senryu | |

The Kids of Divorce

Mom and Dad divorce; the kids are damaged for life; but some are relieved.


Details | Senryu | |

Senyru

, one, two, three eleven, her son counts
,


Details | Free verse | |

Hanging Roses in Windows

I learned from my grandmother
To dry roses in windows
Hung, upside down, from a string-
Maybe because that way
All the red would flow to their head
Like when one does handstands-
Handstands are never something 
That I learned how to do
Particularly satisfactorily...
I've always been a bit too-
Off-balance-

I learned from my mother
Not to hang around windows,
That I am not a rose
To be put up to dry...
When you spend so long
Leaning over windowsills,
You can only ever be-
Off-balance-


Details | Rhyme | |

In A Hotel Room

Why did they go? They always go,
Whether they saw me I simply don’t know,
They’re here for a night and then go away,
And leave me behind, all alone I must stay,
And wait for the loved ones to whom I belong,
But I’ve been waiting now for ever so long,
I’m starting to think that they’ll never return,
But I remember those faces so full of concern,
On the day that I fell into the old hotel pool,
I never did master swimming at school,
But somehow I pulled myself out from the deep,
And came back to this room where my parents did sleep,
My Mother’s blue eyes had turned red with her tears,
Just as any mother’s whose child disappears,
I don’t understand why they just didn’t see,
That I was standing there just where I should be,
Then they were gone, leaving me here in this room,
Sometimes full of life, sometimes cold as the tomb,
Why did they go? They always go.


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 | Light Poetry | |

Typewriter

When I was little my mother and father took me to my grandparents place
The reason was they had school and work so they dropped me off and took haste
My grandmother who was always writing had brought out a case
I always wondered what it was that made her heart beat in an odd pace

Little I did not know what she was smiling so much about
So I watched her run around making snacks all out
I was little and about to touch the case, but I heard a shout
When I heard her she had a look that made me pout

My grandmother smiled and said to me that machine was special to her
But what was that machine because it was odd looking, for sure
As a little child nothing looks more interesting than a new figure
Finally she sat down with me by her side and a cup of coffee to stir

With a big smile she told me a story and first it was on paper
As she spoke I heard her voice with ticks and taper
I could not concentrate because of sounds and I was looking at her 
She spoke with kind words and words that I will know in the future

I giggled when she said a word, because it made several noise I heard
My grandmother smiled at me and really knew that I like the sounds that occurred
Little things are not so little she smiled and looked at her coffee and stirred
She pointed at the machine with paper rapped in it with a pattern that lured

As she spoke to me I watched it snap at the paper with precision
I was kinda amuse on her finger making a quick decision
The machine was so fast and her fingers was too, I could not use my vision
She was so happy to see that I was starting to understand the occasion

After a while I got bored and she put me down on the floor
She kept smiling and making music beyond the door
When it stopped I felt empty some how to the core
She stopped it was just because she could not find words no more

I ask grandmother what is that machine you are using as I was griping
Grandmother why wont you play with me as I was smiling
She said that she was doing some stuff, I guess she was not done working
But the thing was she was so happy as she said the machine is a Typewriter for typing


 


April 18, 2013


Details | Rhyme | |

Cream Cake

Little cream cake on the train from France 
Lit a fire in my mind and my heart began to dance 
Memories buzzing through my brain 
Thanks for the visit, I'm glad you came

Filled with fondest memories
Of days spent with you, heart full, carefree 
Loved and adored, my moment in the sun 
No doubt in your eyes that I was number one

Long ago you and I made a pact you see
You said, if you could, you'd come back to me 
It's been a long time, didn't know how long you'd take 
And just right then, you jumped out of my cream cake

I know love has no end cos yours is still with me 
Whispering I'm here and will always be 
For you I live my life like my life is at stake 
Thanks Nan for your visit and for my cream cake


Details | I do not know? | |

For Anene Booysen 1996 - 2013

Hamba Kahle Anene Booysen! (1996 – 2013)


Dead at 17, brutally raped and left to die,
in the dirt,

 

at a construction site in Bredasdorp.

 

‘horrific’, ‘repulsed’,
‘brutally raped’, ‘shocked’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

murdered at 17, brutally raped and left to die,

in the dirt,

 

at a construction site in Bredasdorp.

 

Anene was raped,
savagely mutilated,

 

Her 17 year old body tossed aside,

 

by the hands of men.

 

Men, always men,

 

cowardly, beastly, perverted, twisted men.

 

‘Beastly’, ‘perverted’, ‘twisted’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

who now lies cold and dead.

 

How many Anene Booysens will it take,

 

for us,
society,
families,
people,

 

human-beings,

 

and,

 

men, especially men,

 

to excise the ghastly menace,

 

of the heinous capacity that resides,

 

within men,

 

always men,

 

to brutalise, rape, mutilate, and murder.

 

‘Brutalise’, ‘murder’, ‘rape’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

murdered at 17, brutally raped and left,

 

to die,

 

in the dirt,

 

at a construction site,

 

in Bredasdorp.

 

 

Anene Booysen
(1996 – 2013)

 

* – Hamba Kahle – “Farewell, Travel Well” in Zulu

 

** – Bredasdorp is a small town near Cape Town, South Africa


Details | Bio | |

THE LADY IS EIGHTY

Eighty years ago this day
A lovely cry announced your birth
No girl before, and not one since
Could ever outshine your worth
 
On that great day so long ago
I wonder was the sun shining bright?
I may never discover that answer
But their couldn't have been a sweeter light
 
Your sweetness shown now for eighty years
Felt most intimately by your family
Words are completely inadequate
To describe what you mean to me
 
How can I explain these amazing feelings
That come from deep within my heart
From my first memories of childhood
To this very poem I sat down to start
 
And every day that has come between
Not just for me, but all our family
Your abiding bright love has never dimmed
You shine now, and to eternity
 
Eighty light years have been worn so well
Your incredible life has been a psalm
We all rise and call you blessed
Happy Birthday Mom!

Feb. 2014

Sponsor: Leonora Galinta
Contest Name: Poem for Mommy


Details | Free verse | |

Cold Shadows of Subconscious

Cold shadows form
Blacker bars from locked window
Fall upon the remaining light and I
Wake caged memories as animals
Metaphors arouse the senses
Silence louder grips regret
And all I can do
Is think to run
But, instead I again hold on tighter
To my waning sanity
No signs insist on warning
Moments like rocks are falling
Always continue to pile up images within
That now stirs the soup thick dark 
And begin to play out
An unspeakable act 
Every year upon this very day
I watch from balconies, stuck 
In tragedies portrayed
And now I see…
What I forgot
Mother, lying
Covered about her sins
Beneath, I’m a child crying
Guilt turning always finds its way 
Around the coo-coo clock
Of hands and helpless
To time’s army, life’s ending, ticking, plot
If, but for an instance
I could be free
Free from what
A reality without her
And her needed love
When is enough, enough!
Please, subconscious just let me go…
And I promise
I’ll keep on… going and forgetting


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Black In Time

Let`s go black in time
Come with me black to history
Black to the mother land
Where we rightfully belong
Black in time before the Europeans
Tried to whitewash our
Skins and minds
Black to the kingdom and ancestry
Black, way black before slavery

Black am I 
Not just the color of my skin
The pupil of my eyes or the hair on my head
But black at heart, black in my thinking
And black in my thoughts

Black in time
Black my story, every sentence, every line
Black every rhythm and every rhyme
Black the days on their slave ships
Heading across the ocean lines
Black the shackles and the chains
Black the whips that cut our veins
Black the blood that stained the lands
Black the heart of every whiteman
Black the husbands and the wives
Black the circumstances which changed 
our lives
Black the mother and the father
Black the separation from each other

Black, black, black, black
Black the struggles and the fights
Black the system which took away 
our rights
Black the midnights we tried to make 
our run
Black the rope on the tree that hung the ones
Who wished to be free

Black, black, black, black
Let`s go black and turn the world around
Let`s take black our civilization
Every continent and every nation
Let`s take black the white man`s dominion
Let`s take black our rightful rulership
No more subjection under
The whiteman`s dictatorship
Let`s black out the pages 
of the white man`s days
And attribute the praises 
to the black liberal race

Black my eyes and the things they see
Black the visions of those who preceded me
Black Marcus, Selassie and Mandela
Black Obama and the Christ
Black the life I live because of their sacrifice


Details | Narrative | |

My Earliest Memory

 I was in a museum. I suppose there were many displays of animals mounted or posed in 
their realistic forms to show them as they appeared in their natural environment. However, I 
recall only one display. It is the one that has stayed forever emblazoned on my young 
impressionistic mind. There in front of me they stood, in all their bloody glory: two wild 
animals. One (I cannot recall now what animal it was, only that it had hold of its victim’s 
throat.) Perhaps it was a wolf; maybe a wild boor. What matters most is that it was clearly 
the aggressor and it was the victor over the other animal in its natural habitat. The other, I 
am sure, was a deer, a poor innocent deer. Though its eye sockets were now filled with dark 
marbles, I could imagine in those eyes, terror beyond words. Whoever had put together this 
display had done a most realistic job. Heavy blood matted the neck of the deer and flowed 
down its body. Blood also gushed forth from the attacking beast’s mouth. I do not know what 
thoughts were running through my mind as I beheld this scene. I only remember standing 
there utterly transfixed.

Years later, I told my mother that my earliest childhood memory had been of two animals 
posed in struggle at a museum. So much time had passed, I was not even sure if maybe it 
had not been just a dream. My mother confirmed for me that I had indeed witnessed it and 
that it took place when I was around three years old. She then told how I had stood in front 
of the display for many minutes, perhaps fifteen, just staring and staring at it. She said that 
she and my dad could not tear me away from it, and they finally had to drag me away. Why 
that is my first memory I do not know. Perhaps because it was my first visual impression of 
violence. I wish I could remember what went through my mind as I gazed on it. Later in life, 
I was to witness acts of violence in the “real world” which greatly disturbed me, particularly 
those acts of cruelty involving man against man. However, I am someone who is able to step 
outside myself and view things in an analytical and detached way. I think this makes me 
sometimes misread by the "too feeling crowd." Furthermore, I always find myself strangely 
titillated by scenes of the macabre in horror movies. I do not enjoy gore. But I very much 
enjoy a good psychological thriller. Just something about me. I don’t know what it means. 
And I have no room to explore it here! 

For the Contest of Leighann Anderson: 
Sea of Words


Details | Free verse | |

A battered old saucepan

It may seem strange to write about a battered old saucepan
but this was no ordinary one 
it sprung a leak the other day
sadly without thinking
I threw it away
and now it's gone.

It had been in my family
before I was born
and it was used every day
it broke my heart after
to throw it away.

For all the delicious soups goulash and past
it had contained
the mouth watering delectable smells
from the kitchen
the shouts from my parents

''Come on now set the table dinners made''.

All the red hot broths and porridge we'd scoff
before school on a winters day
all the laughs tears and conversations around
the dinner table before it was was washed
and put away.

It was more than a simple saucepan
because it held a lot of family memories
now my parents sadly passed away
it was one of the last things to remind me
of how things used to be
and mow I have to buy a new one
and accept it's demise
like my family
it's gone forever.

Peter Dome.copyright.2012.


Details | Narrative | |

Barbara Rose

Barbara Rose

Barbara Rose her prayer she would pray for all:
 
I wish for the beauty of thoughts and beauty that come through life's walk through the soul
 and heartaches and laughter and love of each other..
the memories of what could have been and the life song for the future..
I wish for the beauty in words to come alive in the mist of our souls,
to show the world what words of beauty could really accomplish in peoples hearts,
that the ecstasy of life could blossom in each person lives and sing the beauty of songs and 
to reach the hardest of hearts and just be friends.
I wish for love for each of one of you..
 
With melodies flowing
the day is long
Blessed are those that love
and wait the wait
Enthralled and enslaved by the char
of those sparkling eyes for all the world to see
Empowered by Saviors grace
 
Her eyes spoke of things to come
A Love of the master for all
Compassionate feelings of her hearts
Were of her family That she had been so blessed
Her name was Barbara Rose
 
Dear Momma,
I love you so much
One day I will be there all the way up there
In glorious heaven with you
to dance with you
And walk the streets of gold
I miss you mom
Your wonderful smile
Your gorgeous laugh
Our long talks
You being so wise
Telling me all about Jesus.

You always told me,
Love life
Life will love you back
Love people
People will love you back
Pour out your love my daughter
Love will pour back....

Keep extending love and your will receive
Be found faithful and your will be rewarded.
Thank you my momma
Love you dearly
With all my heart
Love you: Brooke

This mothers day is hard without you mom... I miss you so... 
but all the memories from you is the best I ever had... 
Love you so much.... 
Brooke....
This is my dear mom that left us back in July 2011.. 
She had a long hard illness but everyday to her was a blessings with a big smile on her face.
 She loved all and all loved her.. Blessings to each one of you..

Happy Mothers day to all...


Details | I do not know? | |

REST IN PEACE MUM ANN BROWN 18 AUG 2011

MUM ...

WHERE DO I START? I DON'T THINK THERE IS WORDS , TO EXPLAIN HOW I AM 


FEELING ABOUT THE LOSS OF YOU... BUT I WILL USE ALL THE STRENGTH YOU HAVE 


GIVEN TO ME , SO I CAN GET THESE FINAL WORDS OUT THE GUILT , SADNESS AND 

REGRET  FROM NOT SEEING YOU LIKE I WANTED TO  SO ****ING MUCH ,

 THEN THE PAIN OF NOT HAVING  A CHANCE TO SAY "GOODBYE" TO THE MOST 

BEAUTIFUL MOTHER COULD WANT, AND YES MUM I'M TALKING ABOUT YOUTO HOLD 

YOUR HAND, TO SEE YOU SMILE , TO HEAR YOUR VOICE, WOULD MAKE MY LIFE MORE 

WORTHWHILE. YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO LIVE, BUT YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO 

LIVE WITHOUT YOU I MISS YOU SO SO MUCH MUM, BUT THE LOVE IN MY HEART FOR YOU , WILL MAKE SURE 

YOUR LIFE , LOVE , WARMTH AND TOUCH , WILL LIVE ON FOREVER , 

IN ME I KNOW THAT YOU CHANGED ME , JUST FROM YOUR 

PRESENCE...THATS'S HOW STRONG YOU WERE MUM I KNOW YOU HAVEN'T LEFT ME , 

FOR THE LOVE IN MY HEART REMAINS , YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO SUFFER AND YOUR 

BODY WILL FEEL NO PAIN...... GOD TOOK YOUR HAND , AND MADE US PART , HE CLOSED 

YOUR EYES , AND BROKE MY HEART ....FOR ALL THE TIMES WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER,

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR FACE.

THERE IS NO MOTHER ANYWHERE LIKE YOU,

NO ONE COULD TAKE YOUR PLACE.

IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE LEAVING,

I GUESS I EXPECTED YOU TO FOREVER LAST,

ALL OF THE DREAMS OF US IN THE FUTURE,

ARE NOW BUT MEMORIES OF THE PAST.

GOD TAPPED YOU ON THE SHOULDER,

HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW,

THAT YOU WERE GOING WITH HIM,

TO THE SKY SO BEAUTIFUL BLUE.

ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER SEE YOU MUM,

ARJAY WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE,

HE'S GONNA HOLD YOUR HAND,

AND LEAD THE WAY,

FOR HE WILL BE YOUR GUIDE.....

I LOVE YOU MY MOTHER.....
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU UNDERSTAND, 
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU KNOW,
DON'T TELL ME THAT I WILL SURVIVE,
HOW I WILL SURELY GROW.
DON'T TELL ME THIS IS JUST A TEST,
THAT I AM TRULY BLESSED,
THAT I AM CHOSEN FOR THIS TASK,
APART FROM ALL THE REST.
DON'T COME AT ME WITH  ANSWERS THAT CAN ONLY COME FROM ME,
DON'T TELL ME HOW MY GRIEF WILL PASS,
THAT I WILL SOON BE FREE.
DON'T STAND IN PIOUS JUDGMENT OF THE BONDS I MUST UNTIE,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO SUFFER,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO CRY.
MY LIFE IS FILLED WITH SELFISHNESS,
MY PAIN IS ALL I SEE,
BUT I  NEED YOU,
I NEED YOU YOUR LOVE UNCONDITONALLY.
ACCEPCT ME IN MY UPS AND DOWNS,
I NEED SOMEONE TO SHARE,
JUST TO HOLD MY HAND AND LET ME CRY,
AND SAY, MY FRIEND I REALLY DO CARE
Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me


Details | Sonnet | |

Surprise Spider Lilies

Sheer fine batiste settles in the hollow
Like a ghostly creature who at night roams
Longs to float over dewdrops who follow
'Til sun's rays bring the hearse and funeral home

Surprise Spider Lilies blossoms' stand straight
A reminder of mother's few flowers
Ones she planted then she's have to wait
For those soft spring showers to empower

Down where the rain lilies now blossom
Without any soft rain 'pon the garden 
Where death of summer's flowers a problem
And elderly who live there death certain

Will there linger any flowers alive
In memory of life's beauty abide


Details | Rhyme | |

HOW WONDERFUL INNOCENCE WAS

Passersby stared at me and complimented mom
for her gorgeous child 
who smiled very tenderly,
and being moved by how 
I sang my nursery rhyme,
they applauded saying, " Oh, it's so pretty! "    


A few days ago, being bored I searched
for a rare coin collection sold
to me by the Bradford exchange,
but surprisingly I found a forgotten picture between
the pages of a book written by James McQueen,   
and in that picture there was me at a tender age.


The more I looked at it, the more that shy and fair child resembled me,   
and being amazed by my discovery,
I started living the thrill of childhood days:
remembering spring afternoons and how wonderful innocence was!


Written by Andrew Crisci
for Deb Wilson's contest, " Maybe I'm Amazed! "
2/ 19/2013


Details | I do not know? | |

They Left so Abruptly

They Left so Abruptly

(for the countless South Africans, of all colours, who dedicated their lives for freedom and democracy)

the valiant ones
countless
many known
many more nameless

the truest sons and singers
husbands and poets
lovers and wives
daughters and farmers
workers and sisters
brothers and friends

they left so abruptly
with quiet pride
steely courage
gentle dignity

they left so abruptly
leaving us our tomorrows
brighter
hopeful
filled with promise

they left so abruptly
so that we may breathe
the breath of liberty
the air of freedom
the warmth of justice

they left so abruptly
leaving with us their parting gift

freedom
inkululeko
swatantrata
liberte
azadi
vhudilangi
libertad

they left so abruptly
yet we remember them all
today
in the days that slipped away
and in the many more that we await

they left so abruptly
yet they remain
hewed into our memories
etched in our consciences
engraved in our hearts
they left so abruptly
and yet they endure
with us
within us
now and forever more


Details | Rhyme | |

Flour Sacks

Oh, yes! I recall them well,
those pretty prints as flour sacks.
They only needed hemming
added to Mom's dishtowel stacks.

I don't remember dresses 
made from them for Sis or me.
Sewed together for table cloths,
they were pretty as could be.

They brightened the old kitchen 
when hung as window curtain.
My dear mother wasted none
of that I can be certain.

They are making them no more,
I suppose to save some cash.
All flour comes in paper bags
which is fit only for trash.

11/13/2013


Details | Rhyme | |

Petite Mal Epilepsy: The Perfect Child

           
I have a disability I’ve had my whole life long.
My memory disappears whenever things go wrong,
My first memory was wondering where and who on earth was I.
And who were all the people that I did espy, 
When we moved to our first house, it struck me yet again.
Thank goodness my brother came along on his bike just then.
My mother came outside, and looked familiar so I followed her within.
I actually thought that I was normal, when I was very small.
They took my hand when I went out, so it mattered not at all.
Ingrained habits kept me in the yard, with my friends, and at their knee.
I was such a quiet thoughtful child, they were happy to let me be.
Who am I and where am I, became my quiet refrain.
But I didn’t worry because they always there to call my name.
My parents never caught on, no not once, never at all…
I actually acted like everyone else when I was very small.
I looked normal to others so alone I had to carry on.
Then I went to ballet class, I studied so very hard… for oh so long.
The day of the recital I lost it all in front all where I wanted to belong.
My mother thought it stage fright, and finally took me from the throng.
What good was it doing, she thought, if I did not want to learn the dance?
And then I realized to live my life I’d have to work hard for every chance.
And if I had an argument with a friend, it was over oh so fast.
For the stress made me forget and my life became recast.
So if they didn’t come around for a while I didn’t really care.
Because I would soon forget they had ever even been there.
Eventually they would come back and my memory would come back. 
Then off we’d go to play again as I studied how to avoid another attack.
When asked what I wanted to play, I’d smile at them you see…
And they’d be happy as I said, “whatever you want is ok with me.”
But do not think to pity me for my stubbornness is truly limitless.
After 12 and ½ years in college… I became for 30 years, a true Chemist.
I raised a son and held my own in a world that couldn’t understand me.
But with all those bouts of confusion the world still became my cup of tea.
Quiet, stubborn, hiding my pain, and with lots of daily notes…
Lots of time spent studying ways around my problems, I would devote…
My family had no pity, just the charge to get out there with mankind.
And here I am successful at 58, now with poetry on my mind.


Details | Rhyme | |

Whispers In My Mind

Whispers In My Mind

The spirits of my ancestors cry out to me tonight
Wanting to help me through this darksome plight
Whispering wisdom from beyond
Telling me to ever strongly hold on
Filling my mind with memories dim
Promising to reveal from within
The one who tortures my very soul
And with a quick word my peace stole
Listen to us they whisper urgently
To the past keep looking diligently
Never give up what your heart sees as right
Keep moving forward to win this hard fight
Listen sweet child to your ancestors pleas
Only then can you finally and forever break free
From the chains that bind and hold you down still
From the crushing pain that seeks to devour your will
Listen to me a voice rings out clear
I have always helped to wipe your tears
Never have I left thought it seemed that way
Remember now the name from that day
But before my mind can grasp the news
My ancestors are quieted just like my muse.
(10.16.14)


Details | Free verse | |

Did your mother ever tell you

Did your mother ever tell you,
Did you know?
(Some of us have a penchant for the inscrutable)
Did, your mother ever tell you
(These bonds are primordial and immutable)
In one of those intimate conversations
Between mother and child
(Mostly wasted on superficiality of dopamine significance)
About your origin and your age?
(Neither carbon-14 nor red shift light can date us)
 
I supposed 
With your superior knowledge written on official paper
That provide the data of your birth
You think it not worth the bother
To have such small talk about origin.
Mothers knew the world before the big banging bang 
Or you measure your life with time like baking flour.
Trivial, trivial, three scores and ten is distorted denial.
Did your mother ever tell you
About her memory of tomorrow?

Did you know
That every child comes mass produced from heaven
The female foetus has 7 million oocytes to begin
The tomb stalks us from the womb because of sin
Death comes early to siblings we forget tomorrow
When the memory of the future fades
She is born with only one million eggs later on
O that I could tell the brothers or sisters in one year we lost
That by puberty only 400, 000 eggs are not gone.
Was that random love
Or the beginning of my purpose driven life,
O mother, will you remember now?

Did you hear 
The whispering of my siblings telling me "go first!"
I was Jacob, coming last despite my bossy siblings
Who 7 million with me were only potential until my birth;
This perhaps, the Electra complexity eluding Freud
Matters not, mother knew
I never took orders very well
That is why on the Wanderer I was not in the hold
But many many died in the wretched womb of our beginning
When slaves grow green and slavers search for gold.
I came long after laughing 
And could not believe what birth certificates taught in writing
Did they not know the entire universe is one age
That God rested from all his work and his creation that he made from then
That time sequenced us like products on an assembly line
That all eggs existed simultaneously 
So that I age vicariously and erroneously
Mother said nothing to me
So I beg you, talk to your mother again.


Details | Free verse | |

My Mothers Doll

Weeping on the window sill.
A long pass love to give.
A doll that with stand time.
Like wear and tear on its strings inside.
The sand that flows in an hour glass.
Is a way to find a love that pass.
My mother holds it once again.
A cool person who love to give.
She gives it to my brothers daughter.
With it sitting on a spindle it can spin.
To thread it back into its former self.
It begins a new love with in.


Details | I do not know? | |

Mom's Cobbler Pies

Mom slaved over cobbler pies for a dinner-time surprise! Applauded, she sighs...


Details | Rhyme | |

Roses For Mama

He's drempt of his mama in her garden of love,
surrounded by angels in heaven above.
Peaceful waters flow through a bubbling brook,
where her roses grew in every little nook.
She cherished the roses he had bought for her in life,
capturing their beauty and the colors of their sight.
When she was ill he knelt beside her bed,
and handed her roses with the tears that he shed.
She said don't cry for me it's beautiful over there,
where they climb so gracefully up Heaven's golden stair.
He visits her grave and places roses in her cup,
rest assured with Jesus she forever sup.
The rose bush he planted for her still grows today,
just as it did when Jesus took her away.
No sickness nor pain she can smell once more,
as she embelishes in her roses surrounded by her door.
She said plant you some roses in rememerance of me,
as you stroll through my garden waiting for you I'll be.


Details | Rhyme | |

Path Warn Down

The shore is what I have seen since I was little
     when I grew up it was so far in the distance to see.
Walking the distance when I was a child I was so brittle
     to notice the path was so warn out to me.

The little strides I took was not so bad
     it was just how it ended up when my mother had my hand.
She pointed out to the horizon to make me glad
     that I could look out and see the sand.

The look in her eyes was so beautiful 
     it was one of those moments that can be captured.
My mother showed me the path and told me to be careful
     to not worry about the pain she pictured.

The final walk up to get home was a bummer
     because it was the sign that ended my time their.
My time at the beach and the sea was the end of summer
     that is when I said, I will be back I swear.

The path might be warn more and more out
     even when time passes and when I get older.
My memories of my mother and I will last with out a doubt
     with time I get smarter and much bolder.


Details | Free verse | |

sleeping with grandma in summer haiku

pulling down the shade,
i can still feel the cool breeze
still sticking to sheets


Details | Free verse | |

Laughter As A Cure

When that boy 
Spotted our carpets 
With guilt,
My mother said to me 
Don’t worry 
We will laugh about it
One day.


Details | Free verse | |

on memories, the soul and gentle breezes

She has seen so much before Her eyes 
they have lost their sparkle 
She sits in Her chair to watch the hummingbirds 
flit and sip at the bird feeders She has prepared 
She has made those for years 

i remember sitting with Her and talking 
about boys and schoolwork 
and how beautiful the hummingbirds 
sounded as they zipped past the screen door 
we know they will return 

Her taste for pecans never 
prevented Her from collecting them 
off Her land for pies and candies 
Her legs hurt from walking too long 
how i miss picking pecans with Her 

as i grew time was lost 
and i visited Her less and less 
with regret i think of 
all the talks and fun and laughter 
while we canned fruits and jellies together 

i wish i could bring back those years 

the summer before i was married 
we talked of love and happiness 
and i was privileged to know how 
Pa and Ma met when she asked, 
"Do You Believe In Love At First Sight?" 

we stayed up 'til morning talk of 
mike and how She believed he was an 
angel and how She met her first husband 
and the birth of mimi, i know She has 
always love me 
i am Her pride and joy 

She has lived a long life that was hard 
but worth it because She has produced 
a wonderful family 
that babies Her in Her old age 
oh, how She hates that 

She talks about Her last days as if 
tomorrow Her soul will take flight 
and wonders why God hasn't sent for Her yet 
perhaps She is not done 
or He wishes Her to see something precious 

i wonder if it is for me (how narcissistic) 
to see my wedding or the birth of the daughter 
that will carry Her middle name 
She cried when i told Her that 
but that's how much She means to me 

i vainly pray that She will live long enough 
to see these things that are important to me 
when She will be able to hold 
with Her middle name 
Her great-great-granddaughter, LEE ellen 

now She sits in her rocking chair 

watching the hummingbirds 
Her soul takes flight upon a gentle 
breeze that carried Her far away in time 
when She could pick pecans and can jellies 
when She and Pa met 

or when Her children were born 
i know many stories from Her past 
and i am proud that i am the only one 
that has taken the flight with her soul 
on one of those gentle breezes


Details | ABC | |

Forget

Oh, how I’d like to forget, walkin in with you on the bed.
You appeared to me as though you were asleep,
But little did I know you were already deceased.
Never seen you the night before, was scared I’d get beat,
to avoid you yelling at me, and trying to keep the peace.
I wish I could forget those memories,
They're burned in my brain and still in my dreams.
If I could have just one wish for me,
I'd wish for just one day that you could be here with me.
Even though according to you I was a disappointment,
I wonder if I was also your regret.
I always let you down, everything was my fault,
I said and meant that I was sorry, and yet it never stopped.
If only... If only... I could rewire my brain,
And forget all the memories that cause me pain.
Because of you I have this fear,
I want to be angry but I end up scared.
Apart of me always wanted to say “F-off,”
Even though I love you and miss you a lot.
When you died I never had the chance to stand up to you to say things I needed to say,
I still have a lot of pent up anger and pain.
And this bottle inside me is about to break.
How dare you leave us when you did!
Did you know that it was going to happen?
Why did you keep so many secrets from dad and me?
Why this way, did it have to be?
I want to be angry.... but I just cant,
You made me stronger, yet gave me half a chance.
No more.... Fore I'll get carried away,
So at peace... I hope you are and will stay.


Details | I do not know? | |

For Aung San Suu Kyi

For Aung San Suu Kyi

manacled
you remained unyielding
bruised by their bayonets of power
you remained unyielding
gagged by their coarse brutality
you remained unyielding
today you return
and we salute
your spirit
that remained
and remains
unyielding


Details | Rhyme | |

Sew Sorry

Sew Sorry

A shaft or gear is stuck or broke
The needle won’t make one more stroke
I cannot sew because of them
I can’t repair my pant leg’s hem
I cannot make a blouse or skirt
I cannot sew – my heart is hurt
That old machine was once brand new
My mother had it – it was due
I remember it in mother’s room
The needle flew – the motor zoom
The fancy gears for button holes
And even more for fancy scrolls
And even now I can recall
The sewing patterns from McCall
The bolts of cloth that she picked out
Though all we children had out doubts
But then it saw much harder times
Long before I called it mine
Baptized by my mother’s drink
More than once I’d have to think
And scars it bore from cigarettes
Left to burn with no regrets
I can’t recall the very day
She closed it up – packed it away
It just sat there on her floor
And she sewed nothing any more
And as the years crept slowly by
Under piles of trash it lie
Until the day I took it home
And claimed it for my very own
I cleaned and oiled that old machine
Until it sparkled – till it gleamed
I made the clothes that I then wore
I couldn’t afford those from the store
I could make a dress, a skirt, a blouse
And decorations for my house
A table cloth, a pillow case
That old machine kept up the pace
I could make things cool and cute
I even sewed my guy a suit
And when my daughters came along
That old machine was going strong
They wore the clothes that I would sew
As off to school each day they’d go
But they grew up and moved away
And I kept sewing till today
After 50-60 years
I guess I wore out all the gears
I broke a shaft, I cracked the case
I guess it’s time now I replace
That old machine that served me well
If it could talk – the tales to tell
Of lonely nights in mother’s hands
Her dreams, her thoughts, her many plans
Mistakes and triumphs through the years
The sounds of laughter, pools of tears
The scraps of cloth that made a quilt
The life that this machine had built
I think of it – my eyes go starry
And all I can say is I’m sew sorry 


Details | Verse | |

Tribute to Mother's Love

TRIBUTE TO MOTHER'S LOVE

Mother your sweet smiles cheer us,
Your strength and love showed no melancholy or tears,
Your embrace warms us on empty days.
The life you molded for us to always be free and discreet,
The life we live is all our decision and defeat,
Humble beings, but proudly you fulfilled our needs,
As time passes, empowering us with your wisdom,
Kindness was never lacking in our life of Grace,
Behold us, as we honor you and everything you do,
As your truth protect our path to greatness,
Even if only for a day of rest or recognition for all you are..
MOTHER your love is far above all.
MOTHER  you have kept us in wholesomeness
From generations past and generations to come.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY MOMS EVERYWHERE..?


Details | Free verse | |

Babies and Kids Struggles

Everyone in the world thinks babies and kids have no struggles we are wrong.
We forget the hardest times of our lives is when we were infant our hearts beat a song.
When we were hungry we would cry, little hands could not grab anything that lye.
We had help to hold our bottles and we felt so helpless in our everyday struggles.
Our eyes did not open till the time that we were able we saw everything huge in size.
It made our heart throb fast and nothing made sense for all the words were gurgles.
The little ears we had we did stress with sound so loud and so unknown made us cry.
The fathers and mothers with kind word almost calmed us while they whispered.
They held us with fear, we had fear just knowing that we could not handle stress alone.
We grabbed things and we just wanted to hear the heart beat of our mom and dad.
That was the only thing in our minds that made us calm and glad.
The first touch of rough skin and strong hands were most comforting, yet scary at once.
Trust gradually grew when whipped our mess and hind ends, which were still scary.
To the large people out there the mind of a child is so simple but they still struggle.
They still need food, love and security that is all they need to grow.
To their lives is what they cling and no one is there to protect them from sorrow.
There are less fortunate kids that never get to hear their mothers and fathers hearts.
They soon empathize with everything around them with an emotion that struggles.
When sleeping on our own we cannot defend ourselves so we have fears.
That's why we cry nightly to sigh relief, we get exhausted and we run out of tears.
Remember the times you seen a child fall down their first step or bump into things.
It is scary when knowledge is lacking and get into things, which are a signs of struggles.
Children is future, it is nice to just watch them study, play and learn who they are.
Babies and Kids smiling, playing loud, and just sitting, they are still people they struggle. 


Details | Quatrain | |

Down Memory Lane

 
I took a walk down memory lane,
My heart reliving the scenes
I visited with loved ones now gone
The ones I see in my dreams.
 
Each picture tugged at my heart
Some even brought down a tear
I felt a special kind of glow
For I felt each loved one near.
 
There was my mother alive and well
I felt the warmth of her arms
I knew that I had been loved
And kept safe from all harms.
 
I took a walk down memory lane...
I held my baby girl tight
She was fast asleep on my chest
Unafraid of the dark night.
 
The man of my dreams was there
Back when passion meant fire
I stared at his youthful face
Was once more filled with desire.
 
 Tonight I walked down memory lane
The journey was ever sweet
I saw myself as I had been
Oh, it was such a joyous treat!
 
One day I’ll reach the end of the lane
That lane that is called life
And I’ll look out from a picture
A smiling mother and wife
 
And when she looks at my picture
I hope my daughter will smile
Remembering that she was loved
Which makes life’s journey worthwhile.


Details | Free verse | |

WHEN YOU WERE BORN

When you were born
I was sure you were 
the most remarkable thing
on the planet
as you grew         I knew it was true
everything    I had experienced     paled
in the light of          who you were
and the     privilege    of knowing you 
an   empty   life became   full
darkness        became    light
no   thing men value         could compare
to what         is you 

How many cries   beneath  those eyes
how much of you will    I ever see
guess you're         a lot like me

I have never celebrated     my body
I never        cried for you 
I shared        nothing 
but you        asked me to 
and I         never asked you 
I told you          no stories
for I cannot       share the pain
as I was          taught
that my outside     should never betray 
my inside
What I feel         I must never show
so that you       would never know
"to be seen          and not heard "
not allowed         to speak any word 

your body is for        service
close your          eyes    and MIND (behave)
I'm sorry my children     that
I gave this              legacy to you
the mother     you never knew
I have so few memories            of kindness
and nearly            none           of love
I have tried          to give    you
all that           I had and 
I don't believe       in myself  that 
it could ever        be enough
I have been      trying all my life
to learn         how to love
I must let you go
to make this         journey yourselves
I would         be privileged
to make this           journey with you
and I really don't     want
you focused            on the past anyway
I want       you        looking for love
and   happiness      cause I'm still
looking for it         too 
but you all         have given 
my happy memories
(and I still think for you they were too few)

Psalm 139
3 For you formed my inward parts;
    you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
    my soul knows it very well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
    intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
    the days that were formed for me,
    when as yet there was none of them.

COPYRIGHT © 2014 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Details | Pantoum | |

The Train-Zoom!

The Train…Zoom!

As the memory drifts in again 
Capturing the richness of love.
Reminiscence my heart did win.
Visits with grandmother, beloved.

Capturing the richness of love.
We, arm in arm, adventure bound.
Visits with grandmother, beloved.
Two on a train ride to a nearby town.

We, arm in arm, adventure bound.
The day trip grandmother had planned.
Two on a train ride to a nearby town.
The picnic basket was in her hand.

The day trip grandmother had planned.
She and I together, enjoyed the park.
The picnic basket was in her hand.
We stayed and played ‘til almost dark

She and I together, enjoyed the park.
It was the first train ride we two shared. 
We stayed and played ‘til almost dark
It was special; I knew she cared.

It was the first train ride we two shared. 
On the way back, we had our own room.
It was special; I knew she cared.
Lullabies, whistles, and sounds from the train…zoom!

It was the first train ride we two shared. 
Reminiscence my heart did win.
It was special; I knew she cared.
As the memory drifts in again 


© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 24, 2010

Dedicated to one of my two wonderful grandmothers... They both live on in my heart.


Details | Narrative | |

The Curse of Unlimited Time

“Don’t forget to take your dose.”
My stomach in knots, as I shakily spoke.
“Baby, you know my death is coming close.”
“But mommy, I don’t want you to go.”

Doctors walked past,
Blurs of white stepping in and out fast,
As my mother and I tried to make the night last,
Pulling out memories and revisiting the past.

All of our ‘remember when’s’,
Made me wish I was there again,
Back when I thought there was time to spend,
With my mom, on who I could always depend.

“Why’d this have to happen now?”
My lips trembled as thoughts were spoken aloud.
“How can we change it, baby? Please, tell me how.”
“Cancer can’t take you! It’s not allowed!”

I crawled up beside her,
Beside my hero, my mother,
I heard the slow heart of my source of will-power,
And cursed the sickness that absorbed and devoured.

My mind rushed with things I needed to say,
Secrets that I kept so they’d stay out of the way.
But I was cut short as time ticked away,
And only one memory in my mind began to play.

“Remember when I started to cry,
That one day you never told me goodbye?
I always knew it was a silly reason why,
But you came back anyways and this was your reply.”

“My pretty little princess, I love you!
And I will always know you love me too.
So if I forget to say bye, please don’t be blue,
Because our bond is strong and will always stay true.”

The memory made up for things I couldn’t tell her,
And in this moment it made me feel the slightest bit better.
But yet all these emotions were flooding like water,
As I knew I was going to lose my mommy forever.

“I promise I love you baby, that’s all you need to know,”
And this time it was her voice that shakily spoke.
“I’m not scared of death, I’m just scared of letting you go.”
She winced in pain, death was too close.

“Mommy!” I screamed, scared out of my mind.
She smiled, then it faded as she laid there and died.
It’s indescribable what loss and longing I felt inside,
My mind went numb as I couldn’t bring myself to cry.

I need you,
I want you,
I miss you…

I love you mommy.


Dedicated to all who have lost their moms.
In sickness or old age,
Whatever it may have been,
This is for you.



Details | Free verse | |

Black

The black cloak wrinkled from a restless night 
Worn that day despite its negative appearance
Deep, deep black eyes look darkest from grief
Time only wears away the cloak's black color
Washed to a dull gray-black lacking luster
The fabric worn nearly through from its constant use

Each night's journey into the land of terror
Accompanied by the cloak so real that coated every dream
She would sleep, rest, and dream of reaching for her baby girl
Relive the horror of those black eyes a mirror image of self
Staring back at her set in death's grip, wide open and black
A dream that never went away for it was real life event
Dead at nine months old from pneumonia
Found by those living, deep black eyes that never lived again


My adoptive mother and father had a baby girl who died at 9 months old from pneumonia..My mother fed her at 2 A.M. and when the baby  did not awake in the morning as usual mother went to see about her and she was dead..


Details | Rhyme | |

Pretending

Pretending
____________________________

I long to see your face,
to touch your hand once more
let's be close once again
as we have been before.

I can only use my imagination,
I talk into thin air
I pretend you are still here with me
to let you know I care.

It doesn't feel like you're gone,
but I know that isn't so
and the hardest thing i've had to do
is simply let you go.

But one day when the time is right,
I know we shall meet again
and you're always in my heart
my Mom, and dearest friend.

6/10/2014-Jessica Thompson