Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Mother Name Poems | Mother Poems About Name

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Free verse | |

Love is writing her name in the air with sparklers

Love is writing her name in the air with SPARKLERS!



I need a new heart!
Like the one I had when I was 5,
when I wrote her name in the air.
When the deep red held us up,
and I thought Birds touched Bees Beneath the lilies
Softly, 
because that is how I touched my Grandmother and the cheeks of Horses.


I need one,
that will not grow up.
One that will hunt for carnivals in August.
One that keeps filling. 
One that carries salt and a pairing knife through the garden when it’s hungry.
One that still sleeps on the bellies of yellow dogs.

I need one, 
most importantly, 
that still falls in love.
Love, 
LOVE I SAY!
Love that is simple
and feels like birds must.
When they warble a deep red and
carve the air.
Lifting bees,
Softly.
Like sparklers into the sky. 


If you think you have such a heart I will to pay!!!
I have a savings of over $15,000 and I am willing to have wages garnished.

*an installment plan with interest negotiable.


In the exchange of hearts you will receive mine for as long as is needed or until a 
preferred heart is available.
It is a sort of sad thing this heart. 
Slowly folding over onto itself, collapsing inwards like a shipwreck. 
However, its meter is quite steady and will be an adequate replacement until another, 
more suitable heart is found.


* Serious Inquiries Only!!!!


Details | Ottava rima | |

Kanhapatra - WIN

Once upon a time there lived a dancer 
Shyama, a concubine of a feudal baron
Had a pretty girl Kanha, also a dancer
Quite excelled in playing of the Veena”s tune
Was mortified being Courtesan’s daughter
Sobbing, came to her mother with a question
Calming her down she pointed to God’s statue
HE is your soul-mate will take you away astute

She took to Lord Pandurangam thus advised
As her lover, owner of body, mind and soul
As the classical musician her she was praised
People came with offers, mother turned down all.
Sultan of Vidarbh by her beauty was charmed
Sent order to send Kanha to his serial
She left town at dawn as she had intimation
Went to Pandharpur temple for inspiration.


She wrote, composed and sang as blessed poet
Data was leaked when a man saw her singing
The Sultan besieged the town and held the priest
Quite engrossed she kept on Veena –playing
Chord broke, song disrupted, the statue split
God came out, carried her, the statue joining
Merged with God, piece of scarf stuck in a gap
Kanha got herself in her eternal lover wrap.

                        **********
Once upon a time in the fourteen century, at Mangalwedhe ,Maharashtra State, 
India, the story has taken place. A temple was built later, in Kanhapatra’s name. 
The lucky visitors, who strongly believe in Lord Vithal and his miracles, can see or 
assume the tiny piece of cloth, stuck (at the place near the heart) on the Lord’s statue.
                                                
Contest: Any poem # 3              6th place win
==============================================
*Name of a woman
** Kanha means a belle
*** Veena, an Indian musical instrument
****Pandurangam, a name of the Indian God
*****A feudal Lord of Ancient state Vidarbh of India
******Pandharpur name of the town where there is famous temple of the Lord 
Pandurangam
===============================================
Honorable mention
Contest: The ottowa Rima by Jared Pickett


Details | Acrostic | |

POET - DESTROYER

P-oetess, who is so GREAT and LOVELY
O-n  the pedestal, I look up at her with so much glee
E-verything she writes are splendid and they all inspire me
T-eaching  me unique writing styles, drawing me to pen more with piquancy.

D-estroyer is a nice name  giving me good impressions
E-ncouragement through her comments, destroy all my writing inhibitions
S-o grateful that heaven brings  her as one of my precious gems
T-ruly, I will forever treasure her in reality and in my dreams
R-ight here in my heart and mind, I sincerely admire her
O-h, what a great mother, grandmother and also a sweet friend and sister!
Y-earning to meet her someday,  I still wonder
E-nchanting names she has are giving me puzzles
R-esolve my doubts, who is  Skat and Linda who has the same name as her bf forever?
        





Written: Sept. 6, 2012


10th Place Winner
Contest: Curiosity Killed the Cat Harry Horsman and Mandy Tams
Judged: 10/3/2012
Poet Sponsor: Harry Horsman


Details | I do not know? | |

Doctor Hill's Bill true story

In a little West Texas cow town years ago
There was an  old doctor by the name of Hill
Little man, mild mannered, cheerful until made mad
He doctored old cowboys and drunks when things got slow
His usual cure was a kick in the butt and a pill
He had some regular people that weren't to bad


Doctor Hill had some that lived far out of town
On ranches and God awful places Doc was carried
There was one family that lived on a ranch way far out
There name was Brown
An old mother and two daughters not married
The old mother complained to hurt everywhere about

She claimed to be bed ridden, could walk as good as you and me
She fell out of bed one night, the sister did not know what to do
So the called Dr. Hill at ten
So late at night the got in his car to go see
He had been there five times before, he knew what to do
Laying there on the floor, she had done it again

Doc told them to get a blanket and a pillow and put them on the floor
He made a pallet for her and ten he said
"Let's roll her over on to the mat
Put the pillow under her head , then headed for the door
His little round face was turning blood red
Then he said, "Now damn it fall off of that"


Details | Bio | |

Outside looking In

Im going to tell you a story about a girl.
She was smart, and ready to take on the world.
Had a hard childhood with her mother always ill,
but her father worked hard and struggled to pay the bills.
My name is Pam and the poem your about to read,
Is a interesting poem, all about me.
I started to feel depression and pain,
at the age of 15 I was snorting cocaine.
I got pregnant at a young age and wanted to explore,
So I walked right out of my families door.
Time went on and I was still not around,
My mom grew sicker and dad wearing a frown.
Not much longer until I experienced this change,
and tragic horrible hurt and feeling of pain.
I walked in that room ,and climbed in the bed
I layed down beside him, and layed down my head.
With my hear I could hear his heartbeat.
The next thing I new we were burying him six feet deep.
At the funeral they said she was in a better place,
but it just wasnt fair to see that look on her face.
My mom that is she died with my dad,
She may have been breathing but always so sad
Two years later she decided to give up,
her faith was gone and hope for luck up.
Thats when I really started to struggle,
barely getting by and forgetting that i was mother.
She seen me drift into a dark place,
I started loosing weight in my stomach and my face.
Before I new it I was always getting high,
Weeks became months, and time flew right by
Its to bad that I chose this new path I was on ,
Because on August 11Th I got a call saying my mother was gone.
Like a replay I walked into that room,
to see her lying there as stiff as a broom.
I layed down beside her and rubbed my fingers
through her hair , but the pain I was feeling I just couldn't bare.
You would think after loosing my mom and my dad,
Anything else wouldnt seem near as bad
Within four years I had nothing left,
My child was taken for my foolish regrets.
Just me and my addiction no more tears to cry,
so many different ways that I could get high.
I would like to introduce this powerful drug,
It bring nothing but bad when I was searching for love.
The name is crystal, Crystal Meth
The one thing in the world, I wish I had never met...


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 | I do not know? | |

WHO AM I BY NAME ALONE

written 10th Aug 2013



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

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


Details | 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 | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The number the brand

When I met her , a very old lady she was , yet inside lay a frightened child .
I felt my heart cry , I felt as if I was touching history itself , as I made this older lady, child,  chai .

I remember the day , and so many tears I have cried
I have cried before she and I met 
As a child , so many tears, left confused inside .

Not understanding Why , and how could we stand by and live our lives as if this never happened ?

It happened , we are left in dismay of the movies seen the accounts taken of History 
My self ..I have caught stereotyping the very people whom did this to she , the rest of her Family erased .


The white candles we light , we try and forgive , or just simply block this pain out completely.

It occurs , over and over , as it has been said History will repeat .
When thinking of my children , when I think of that little girl losing ,  cold and scarred , feeling only defeat .

There is a lesson here and I pray , that all whom have been taken from life , have no pain and are gifted spirits throughout eternity . May they be warmed with love,  and reunited with the ones they lost .

The first time I met her , her old hand I took and warmed it with mine , I held it for a long time . 
You could not,  but notice ..the Evil imprinted on skin , the Evil only to remind.
This very old Soul , in her eyes you could see . 
The child that once lived , so innocently free, not aware yet,  of the Hostility .

I speak of a Little girl, I speak of a old woman , I speak of a Jewish,  chosen Religion.

There as I held her frail , old hand  , a brand , a number stamped in Evil a long time ago .   In 1945  , once in our distant, yet Frightening  past . 

We should never forget , never forget it happened , never forget all the names .
If we do , we have learned nothing , A World living in Shame .
                                " Etta Babooshka Kofman  "


Details | Quatrain | |

The River Gomati-win

O grandma *Gomati, was born on thy bank
And born of a mother bearing your name
On all the yesterdays your water I drank
Am still the part of your pattern and frame.

My blood flows in thy stream meandering
It’s a kind of earthly immortality,
I stand by you and feel kinship endearing
Know not much about gods but your affinity

I learnt to strive, to sink and to seek depth ever
Simply Hydrogen and Oxygen doesn’t make water
Something third is needed to make you what you’re
Nobody knows except you Ma and your Creator.

                             *******
Dr. Ram Mehta
June29, 2011

Twelwth Place win in

Contest: best dedication poem by P.D.

=================================

*Gomati is the name of the river in Gujarat State of India. My home town Dwarka 
where Lord Krishna ruled once, is on the bank of River Gomati. 

My mother too was born there and she was christened as Gomati after the name of the river.

Please click on the links below to see the pictures of River Gomati and the town Dwarka 
==================================================
Copy and paste the links below to see pictures:( Please share it on my blog if this doesn't work)

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--
mnJsfgKoNc/TgpR_pUcaGI/AAAAAAAAAWY/r3OxvDhVhlU/s1600/Gomti+River+for+PS.jp
g 
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-
urY7xEhqWe4/TgpSDtfX4OI/AAAAAAAAAWc/g63z_gsliPA/s1600/Dwarka+with+Gomati+
Ghat.jpg
=================================


Details | Blank verse | |

Mother, Forgive Us

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Details | Free verse | |

My Darling Girl, My Black-Eyed Susan

My Darling Girl, 

your big dark eyes  met mine

against your pale skin and yellow hair

this name sang in my heart, Susan,

my Black-Eyed Susan.

A wild flower you’ll be, you’ll be a

kind friend,

loving wife,

strong mother,

sweet grandmother

and always you’ll be

my darling girl, my Black-Eyed Susan


Details | I do not know? | |

This is the TRUE Story of Six Sisters Part 3 The Guestbook

The Guestbook
I signed the guestbook, hoping that _____, Jenny’s mom would get my message and get in 
contact with me. In the mean time, every person who signed it, I got updates about.
Then, one Saturday, I got this e-mail saying someone had signed the guest book, so right 
away, I read it. It was someone named ________, from Ohio…and that she was Jenny’s 
biological sister, and she left a phone number. Now…I know this name…because my birth 
father’s mother had told me that name when I met her in January. So, I nervously picked up 
the telephone and dialed the number. Thank goodness the machine picked up, LOL…I said 
hello, my name is Melissa Powell, I am in Indiana. Jenny was my biological sister, by the 
same birth father, and I think that you and I may be sisters too. Give me a call when you 
can. Two hours later…the phone rang…it was ______…confirming we were indeed sisters! 
Then she dropped a bomb on me…I had another sister _____! Wow…I lost one sister 2 
weeks ago…and today, I find out I have two more sisters! What a blessing! So in the mean 
time, ____, _____ and I are getting to know each other, and our families. So we get to 
talking about possibly looking for other siblings because out birth grandmother has told us 
there are indeed more of us out there. So we look on Facebook with the names. ________ I 
wrote to about 20 _______ Even though when I saw her picture when I wrote her…I knew 
she was my sister…we could be identical twins! So a few weeks go by…then on April 3, I get 
home from Good Friday Church services and there is a e-mail from ______…Call me, I found 
_______… Not only did we find _______…we found _____!

So with the tragic death of our beautiful sister Jenny…it brought all of all us together!
Now we have the rest of our lives to be sisters and get to know one another. God works in 
mysterious ways, and we all believe that he brought us together using Jenny as our northern 
star. And there are even more of us out there! Current count…Six girls and we are told we 
may even have some brothers somewhere!




Details | Rhyme | |

Romancing Distant Moments

Romancing Distant Moments



I am romancing with distant moments
Distance, I keep trying to connect by dreaming
In a time difference, so hard to get a full time so meant
For my child and wife, I longed for reaching

God is so kind bestowing us a child
As we never thought we could have at least one
The passing of time charmed and leave us beguiled
But in prayers, answered us by granting us a son

We gave him a Christian name Pio Noel
Derived from the name of Saint Padre Pio of Pietrelcina
And Noel from my name, a kind idea of my wife Cecille
A name he will carry as his insignia

I listened to their voice over the cell phone
Or watched their videos, I took during my last vacation
Still longing for more moments of them to be shown
To alter depression with deep sign of elation

Through messages, I cherish the distant moments
As my wife will relay to me my child’s notable deeds
As I record every details on my diary as my attunement
Of his daily childish act finely registered on my head

For a picture of table, Pio tells ‘it is table’
For a picture of chair, Pio tells ‘it is sit’
My wife will not dare to show him that it is laughable
But gave him a nice lecture to improve his wit

Whenever he sees his grandfather with fellow friends
He will run to them and kiss their hands as a sign of respect
An instance, my wife eagerly drew a rabbit using a crayon pen
And hardly could be identified as rabbit, but Pio proudly said ‘rabbit’ in all aspect
(My wife kissed him and said ‘Pio you are very clever because even though my drawing is 
hardly could be noticed as rabbit but still you interpreted it very well’)
 
At the age of 1 year and 6 months, Pio knows how to save money
Upon seeing coins inside my wife’s bag, he got this in his hand
And pointed into small piggy bank and dropped in the coins so eagerly
Dirty clothes out of the basket, he willingly put this back without a command

Every time my wife’s cell phone will beep or ring
Pio immediately bring this to my wife and tell her that father text
Pio is fond of watching television and get a chance to lip-sync
He enjoyed for someone blowing on his tummy and find his mother to play suplex

Upon entering our room, Pio will point to our family picture
And loudly will recite ‘this is Pio, mother and father’
Every distant moments of them, I need to capture
While away, I am romancing distant moments sweeter but farther



Previously posted in voicesnet.com poetry site
Written last October 28, 2009
By: Noel N. Villarosa


Details | Free verse | |

My name has a meaning

My name, Bojosi
Is a fire which started
In my mother
And consumed 
Her inside
When she delivered 
Me to this world

She says
“ When I was imprisoned
   in a maternity ward
   at the hospital
   at the time of your birth
   son
   I was alone, none
   of them 
   I call my relatives
   I call my friends
   visited me 
   when I needed
   their love most
   and when they asked
   me, the nurses in white
   what name I give to you
    I called you Bojosi ”

my name, Bojosi
short as it is
is a poem
that my mother
composed 
when joy and pain
of giving birth
prevailed in her life

my name has a meaning…..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bojosi is translated loneliness

**10th place winner on the contest " April Poem" sponsored by Destroyer Poet**


Details | Quatrain | |

The Birth Of A Girl The Birth Of A Boy

In a forest a girl was born   
A girl born oh so poor
This girl then caused this world now torn
Her birth opens a sore

But we do not now this girl mourn
She was left some money
A thrifty woman not to scorn
Then a taste of honey

She met a man she was forlorn
Bore a son Alois
Unwed and aging, no ring worn
No ring, so still a Miss.

Her bastard son none could be warned
When his mother did wed
He gave a name the world did scorn
A name that all wished dead

If his mother knew what was born
Hitler the name we know
I wonder would she have  been torn?
To give him birth, or no.

© 09/01/2013 ~GG~

Contest Entry.


Details | Free verse | |

I love you more

What can I render to the Lord for all His gifts to me
His love
His Grace 
His forgiveness
His sacrifice
His faithfulness
His Joy
He who took MY SINS
His abounding Mercy
His fathomless love
His total commitment to my salvation
To my wholeness
To my welfare
To my emotional stability
To giving me eternal life
He gave a pure white robe to cover me with HIS RIGHTEOUSNESS

Because of Jesus-I now know Him as an adoring Father. 
A Brother who will always walk so close I feel His presence and who always watches over me.
A mother whose words and affections surround me daily with care like a Mother hen
Proverbs:1:8

What can I render to the Lord who took my pain
Who in His own body was wounded and bore the sorrows and my grief I was to going through and the mistakes and the sin ready at every moment to try and trick me out through my life-time- 
He sent His WORD- His LIGHT to enlighten my darkness and show me clearly the road I should take-(Proverbs: chapters 1to 9)

Yes YOU were always ready to defend me, a helpless orphan- for without YOU as my Dad and as my mother- I was abandoned to this world-
But Now I can cry with all my heart- ABBA FATHER I love you - But YOU say
          
               I 
     LOVE  Y  MORE 
              O
              U 

What can I render to the LORD- MY God- whose precious pure blood was spilt to bear the sins of all our humanity- I will take ‘the cup’ of Your salvation and honor your name with my life- For only your pure blood is worthy to pay for all sin-I will confess your name before the world for which you died to save -and I will call upon your HOLY name - for your name alone is WORTHY- JESUS.

© Brenda V Northeast 28th  January 2012 


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 | Pantoum | |

The Christ Child

“This Christ Child” shall the Savior be. 
The animals have come around	
to this mother name of Mary,			
as angels make a joyful sound.	

The animals have come around	
the kings who traveled from far away. 	 
As angels make a joyful sound	
they must leave at the break of day.	

The kings who traveled from far way	
report that danger doth abound.         
They must leave at the break of day.	
Safety from Herod must be found.    .      

Reports that danger doth abound , 
sent to the Earth from Heaven above.	
Safety from Herod must be found,     
warnings for precious Child they love.	

Sent to the Earth from heaven above,    	
to this mother name of Mary		
warnings for precious Child they love.	
This "Christ Child" shall the Savior be.	

By: Joyce Johnson 11/21/10	


Won 5th
For Paula Swanson's contest


Details | I do not know? | |

Drowning in love part 2

she got safe and very fast,
he slept out in the boat because he wanted the night to last,
unfortunatley he didnt know the boat had a leak,
by the time as sunrise he died and lies at the bottom of the creek,
at 7am she woke up and ate breakfast then rode her bike by his house,
she knocked on the door, no one answer it was so quite she could hear a mouse,
she went back to the river but as she arrived she noticed there was a big crowd,
and the whole town was there but it was his mother crying out loud,
she dropped her bike and ran with a ball of speed,
asked his mother whats the matter? " she said my heart bleeds"
so she pause and look to the left and placed her hands on her head,
there he was her lover lying on the ground dead,
she ran to him hugging him crying "saying baby dont do this please talk to me",
get up come on stop it this is not funny,
friends gathered around to move her when the y saw the undertaker,
when he tried to cover his body she broke away and layed on top of him they 
needed her to move but they couldnt make her,
they held her face down it began to rain,
she wiggled but couldnt break free so she watched him got carryed away in great 
pain,
everyone soon after left but she stayed until night crying,
she said i feel very much alive but i also feel like dying,
she saw the very same boat up on the grass wiped her eyes and began to blink,
she went in it knowing it would sink,
she knew she had to die to see him again so she didnt hesitate,
as the boat sank she closed her eyes and kept her faith,
before she reached the bottom she felt her spirit left her body,
she felt this hand lifting her up to the dock and there he was......it was bobby,
he was holding her and calling her name in a loud voice like he was screaming it,
then she woke up in the fields next to him calling her name he said its ok i'm her she 
cried and began to smile she realized it was fake..................she was just dreaming 
it............................


Details | Free verse | |

NNEKA: MOTHER IS SUPREME

Use my name with conscious
I love care and safeguard all
Those of the opinion 
And those of the contrary opinion

I unify tribesmen from different tribes
Advances interests for all
I cultivate culture of unity and harmony
Truly, a mother for all

Slaves can’t insult kings
But they will never be slave’s eternity
As time to usher new will come
I guess you are because they are

Honesty is source of pride
We are tired singing praise
Even when you fail
Use my name to build not insult 
Yes mother is supreme


Details | Blank verse | |

Root

A long time ago, in the dark lands of the gentile pagans
The people where like giants and our twelve spies; ants!
The spies’ mission went sour and they were almost captured.
Ten managed to escape to our lovely desert camps; enraptured!
The other two made themselves scarce, to the inconvenience of a woman
 Who hid them in the roof of her house and lied to save their hides.   
By and by, our brave woman married one spy and another gentile woman
Married the other spy…oh the dreadful tides!!!
It so happened that our promiscuous spies both died, and at the same time too.
Their distraught mother (for they were brethren) decided to return home.
But the woman who had first hid them made bid to return with her
But Old Childless Mother said “turn away my daughters for thou hast seen I have 
No sons and am too old and ugly to attract a man, for surely any man attracted to
Me in this state must darn well be impotent or desperate!”
The second saw reason and turned back home to her shows for her name was Orpah Winfey.
The one who had first hid the spies refused and said (with courageous theme playing in 
The background) “intreat me not to turn aside, for wither thou goest, I will go and wither 
Thou lodgest I shall be thine squatter and where thou diest I shall be present for the wake keep!”
When she saw that her determination was deeply ruthed, Old Childless Widow sayest unto her;
“Damn, why the hell not!”
So it came to pass that Ruth came to dwell with us, the chosen people.
But she was an outright lazy pile of bones, what with all the sitting all day under palm trees
And gisting and gossiping with passersby.  Well some folk thought she was a prophet
His name was Barak Oboma, he was dark and handsome and he was our leader.
She made him start a war with the people in the East whose military was whispered 
In dark places to be to be “The Talibansers” but that is a tale for another day.
Here ends the unnecessarily protracted and adjusted story of Root: the harlot turn
 Wife turn widow turn immigrant turned prophet.


Details | Classicism | |

to the Lord

Oh, Lord 

Oh, Lord we belong to you from the pea size of your magnitude
Oh, Lord we are yours lest we fall away swallow by sin and temptation
Oh, Lord there can’t be other gods greater than your utmost eternal vision
Oh, Lord we love you and praise your holy name above all name at the far end of 
earth 
Oh, Lord I was drowning in sin and through trial and worse circumstance you 
reach out and save me. 
Oh, Lord I don’t know what to say, but to stumble upon a transformed heart you 
did convert my life
Oh, Lord Furnish my life in your pattern on the road of contradiction.
Oh, Lord I have failed to obey your words and instead of believe that you were 
there I bend over my doubtful philosophy.
Oh, Lord you have done all that you can to keep me away from upcoming danger.
Oh, Lord you made my mother known in strength to carry us when we were in 
need.
Oh, Lord you made my mother known in strength to nourish our thought to make 
the right decision
Oh, Lord, give us this strength to carry her till today.
Oh, Lord I give thee thanks, when I had not a bit a penny in my pocket.
Oh, Lord you bought us out and gifted us with your marvelous grace.
Oh, Lord there is non other that can surpass all that we ask for, it is in you the 
greatest love cometh.
Oh, Lord romances our passion and desire to seek you everyday , and do what is 
righteous before you.
Oh, Lord you are the creator
Oh, Lord your words is true 
Oh, Lord youre everything to us
by stanley jeanjacques 



Details | I do not know? | |

A PERSON/ A PAPER/ A PROMISE

Once on a yellow piece of paper w/green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A & a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's &
He had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it.

Once on a piece of white paper w/blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A & asked him to
write more clearly &
His mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint & the kids told him 
that Father Tracy smoked cigars & left butts
on the pews & sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames &
The girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot &
His father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about & his
professor gave him an A & a strange steady
look & his mother never hung it on the
kitchen door because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went & he caught his
sister making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked & the girl around the corner 
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly.

Once on a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.


Details | I do not know? | |

once

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Chops"

because that was the name of his dog

And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A



And his mother hung it on the kitchen door


That was the year that Father Tracy

took all the kids to the zoo

And he let them sing on the bus

And his little sister was born

with  no hair

And his mother and father kissed a lot

And the girl around the corner sent him a valentine signed with a row of X's

and he had to ask his father what the X's meant

And his father always tucked him in bed at night

And was always there to do it.


Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Autumn"

because that was the name of the season

And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A

and asked him to write more clearly

And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

because of its new paint

And the kids told him

that Father Tracy smoked cigars

And left butts on the pews

And sometimes they would burn holes

That was the year his sister got glasses

with thick lenses and black frames

And the girl around the corner laughed

when he asked her to go see Santa Claus

And the kids told him why

his mother and father kissed a lot

And his father never tucked him in bed at night

And his father got mad when he cried for him to do it.


Once on a paper torn from his notebook

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Innocence: A Question"

because that was the question about his girl

And that's what it was all about

And his professor gave him an A

and a strange steady look

And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door because he never showed her

That was the year that Father Tracy died

And he forgot how the end of the Apostle's Creed went

And he caught his sister making out on the back porch

And his mother and father never kissed or even talked

And the girl around the corner wore too much makeup that made him cough when he kissed her

but he kissed her anyway because that was the thing to do

And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed

his father snoring soundly.


That's why on the back of a brown paper bag

he tried another poem

And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"

Because that's what it was really all about

And he gave himself an A

and a slash on each damned wrist

And he hung it on the bathroom door

because this time he didn't think

he could reach the kitchen.


Details | I do not know? | |

Patricia

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



Details | Rhyme | |

Death Is Nothing: The True Story Of Nat Turner - Part 1

The original version of this piece is too long for me 
to post in its entirety, so it had to be sectioned off. Of 
all that I've written, I am most proud of this work due 
to its historical accuracy. I hope you enjoy it as well. It 
was an honor to write this.


Lying in this shallow ditch I hear as they arrive, the 
miracle of God is all that's keeping me alive,

and it is that belief in God to which each day I strive, 
surprised at this much faith? Just simply gaze into 
my life.

Was born in 1800, month October 2nd day, and knee 
high to a hopper when my daddy ran away,

before you climb your soapbox and begin to think 
that way, remember these are times when all the 
black folk here are slaves.

Imagine being sold like stock, to work when cold or 
hot, the overseers beatin people if they're old or not,

do not defy the owner, best believe you will be sick, 
of getting 10 to 20 lashes from the master's whip.

My last name wasn't given at my birth and that's a 
fact, my given name's Nathaniel but they choose to 
call me Nat,

the surname of my owner Samuel is what I claim, 
you put it all together yes, Nat Turner is my name.

I think about Old Bridget, that's my grandmother you 
know, they snatched her out of Ghana, brought her 
here to freezing cold,

she ran the Coromantee who were known for slave 
revolts, she watched the seeds get planted in me 
grow and take a hold.

I thought myself the lucky one for I could read and 
write, it brought me to The Bible and I learned to 
read it right,

then spent my childhood years admidst the Spirit up 
above, it fit my needy soul just like a mitten or a glove.

I ran away at first when I was only 22, I should've 
stayed away because I really wanted to,

but 1 month later, picture this it's me a black man 
free, a vision told me that I should go back and that 
was key.

The visions I receive I know are messages from 
God, Old Bridget had religion shining deep within my 
heart,

I will inform the brethren and won't stop until they're 
saved, The Prophet is the name that I was called by 
fellow slaves.

As 6 years pass of this I know it never is too late, the 
hands of the Almighty have me primed for 
something great,

I carry heavy shoulders for a man of 28, until I 
worked the master's field one faithful day in May........

To Be Continued 


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Etched on my Heart

Etched on my Heart I carved your name on the track today, Lilianna is now etched there forever. Each letter is already on my heart, Nothing will ease its weight. On the other side, I stand at your grave, There your name is carved in stone. A mother should never bury her child. But since I’ll never forget, you are still here.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Boatman's Song 24/ Many

The Boatman’s Song  					24/Many 

The Princess was briefing the Boatman about the guards
Of her Uncle and she continued ..

There are two hundred soldiers, in side the fort and Palace [repeated line from 21/..]
And rest outside the fort, who live in the army camps
Scattered here and there,
Apart from main fighters, who have gone on a battle
Evoked by a notorious neighbor, 

That traitor keeps always nearly twenty persons around his chamber
And some around King’s chamber, to keep a watch so that no one can meet the King
As he fears that some loyal army men, may go with the King
And his silent designs may get foiled and his efforts may go in vain 
Especially when the Chief of Army has gone for a battle and is quite away

Now, it is up to you to make the next strategy
To finish all the vicious men and their chief
To protect my father and this Kingdom
I will see you now, O my dear love, 
Around midnight in my mother’s chamber

She showed the boatman the secret door, leading to the 
Chamber of her Mother the Queen
The Princess left the boatman and his small army of men
And very silently she vanished from the Temple,
Before anyone could have noticed anything

The Boatman waited for the midnight to come
And took the same route, as was shown by his love the Princess
He reached the chamber of the Queen along with his ten men 
And found the Princess was waiting for him, with her mother the Queen
She introduced him to her mother and briefed
That he has come to help her to get rid of,  
The treacheries of that man, whom I call my Uncle

The Queen spoke very slowly, “My dear Youngman,
I see only darkness all around me and every where,
This is a trial of your sincerity and bravery,
After meeting you I can say that you will 
Come out as a Savior, on whom, the King and
The Kingdom would be proud of”

Chandragupta* greeted the Queen of Malla* and said, 
“You keep trust on me and on your daughter’s courage
By tomorrow only, you will find a complete elimination 
Of your enemies”
“I will see you next only tomorrow morning, O mother like Queen
And now would like to take leave with my team,
Without wasting even a moment’s time”

Ravindra					to continue on  25/…………..

Kanpur India  23 January 2010   

      * Chandragupta.  Name of the Boatman. His full name was Chandragupta       
   Maurya, Born in 340 BC
      * Malla. A name of the Republic of ancient India of  400BC
      * Chanakya. Name of the great teacher of Chandragupta & a great politician
         





Details | Blank verse | |

Root

A long time ago, in the dark lands of the gentile pagans
The people where like giants and our twelve spies; ants!
The spies’ mission went sour and they were almost captured.
Ten managed to escape to our lovely desert camps; enraptured!
The other two made themselves scarce, to the inconvenience of a woman
 Who hid them in the roof of her house and lied to save their hides.   
By and by, our brave woman married one spy and another gentile woman
Married the other spy…oh the dreadful tides!!!
It so happened that our promiscuous spies both died, and at the same time too.
Their distraught mother (for they were brethren) decided to return home.
But the woman who had first hid them made bid to return with her
But Old Childless Mother said “turn away my daughters for thou hast seen I have 
No sons and am too old and ugly to attract a man, for surely any man attracted to
Me in this state must darn well be impotent or desperate!”
The second saw reason and turned back home to her shows for her name was Orpah Winfey.
The one who had first hid the spies refused and said (with courageous theme playing in 
The background) “intreat me not to turn aside, for wither thou goest, I will go and wither 
Thou lodgest I shall be thine squatter and where thou diest I shall be present for the wake keep!”
When she saw that her determination was deeply ruthed, Old Childless Widow sayest unto her;
“Damn, why the hell not!”
So it came to pass that Ruth came to dwell with us, the chosen people.
But she was an outright lazy pile of bones, what with all the sitting all day under palm trees
And gisting and gossiping with passersby.  Well some folk thought she was a prophet
His name was Barak Oboma, he was dark and handsome and he was our leader.
She made him start a war with the people in the East whose military was whispered 
In dark places to be to be “The Talibansers” but that is a tale for another day.
Here ends the unnecessarily protracted and adjusted story of Root: the harlot turn
 Wife turn widow turn immigrant turned prophet.


Details | I do not know? | |

MY MIRACLE

The birth of a child will make you smile 
A beautiful baby boy, what a joy 
Brings tears to my eyes 
Because of the joy that is inside 
His name, what should I claim 
Dewayne is his name 
Exquisite 
Worshiped 
Author 
Young 
Noble 
Educated 

The name of your father 
Who I love so much 
My pride and joy 
I will always thank God 
above for giving me so much love 





The birth of a child will make you smile 
A beautiful baby boy, what a joy 
Brings tears to my eyes 
Because of the joy that is inside 
His name, what should I claim 
Dewayne is his name 
Exquisite 
Worshiped 
Author 
Young 
Noble 
Educated 

The name of your father 
Who I love so much 
My pride and joy 
I will always thank God 
above for giving me so much love 



Details | Blank verse | |

Root

A long time ago, in the dark lands of the gentile pagans
The people where like giants and our twelve spies; ants!
The spies’ mission went sour and they were almost captured.
Ten managed to escape to our lovely desert camps; enraptured!
The other two made themselves scarce, to the inconvenience of a woman
 Who hid them in the roof of her house and lied to save their hides.   
By and by, our brave woman married one spy and another gentile woman
Married the other spy…oh the dreadful tides!!!
It so happened that our promiscuous spies both died, and at the same time too.
Their distraught mother (for they were brethren) decided to return home.
But the woman who had first hid them made bid to return with her
But Old Childless Mother said “turn away my daughters for thou hast seen I have 
No sons and am too old and ugly to attract a man, for surely any man attracted to
Me in this state must darn well be impotent or desperate!”
The second saw reason and turned back home to her shows for her name was Orpah Winfey.
The one who had first hid the spies refused and said (with courageous theme playing in 
The background) “intreat me not to turn aside, for wither thou goest, I will go and wither 
Thou lodgest I shall be thine squatter and where thou diest I shall be present for the wake keep!”
When she saw that her determination was deeply ruthed, Old Childless Widow sayest unto her;
“Damn, why the hell not!”
So it came to pass that Ruth came to dwell with us, the chosen people.
But she was an outright lazy pile of bones, what with all the sitting all day under palm trees
And gisting and gossiping with passersby.  Well some folk thought she was a prophet
His name was Barak Oboma, he was dark and handsome and he was our leader.
She made him start a war with the people in the East whose military was whispered 
In dark places to be to be “The Talibansers” but that is a tale for another day.
Here ends the unnecessarily protracted and adjusted story of Root: the harlot turn
 Wife turn widow turn immigrant turned prophet.


Details | Blank verse | |

Root

A long time ago, in the dark lands of the gentile pagans
The people where like giants and our twelve spies; ants!
The spies’ mission went sour and they were almost captured.
Ten managed to escape to our lovely desert camps; enraptured!
The other two made themselves scarce, to the inconvenience of a woman
 Who hid them in the roof of her house and lied to save their hides.   
By and by, our brave woman married one spy and another gentile woman
Married the other spy…oh the dreadful tides!!!
It so happened that our promiscuous spies both died, and at the same time too.
Their distraught mother (for they were brethren) decided to return home.
But the woman who had first hid them made bid to return with her
But Old Childless Mother said “turn away my daughters for thou hast seen I have 
No sons and am too old and ugly to attract a man, for surely any man attracted to
Me in this state must darn well be impotent or desperate!”
The second saw reason and turned back home to her shows for her name was Orpah Winfey.
The one who had first hid the spies refused and said (with courageous theme playing in 
The background) “intreat me not to turn aside, for wither thou goest, I will go and wither 
Thou lodgest I shall be thine squatter and where thou diest I shall be present for the wake keep!”
When she saw that her determination was deeply ruthed, Old Childless Widow sayest unto her;
“Damn, why the hell not!”
So it came to pass that Ruth came to dwell with us, the chosen people.
But she was an outright lazy pile of bones, what with all the sitting all day under palm trees
And gisting and gossiping with passersby.  Well some folk thought she was a prophet
His name was Barak Oboma, he was dark and handsome and he was our leader.
She made him start a war with the people in the East whose military was whispered 
In dark places to be to be “The Talibansers” but that is a tale for another day.
Here ends the unnecessarily protracted and adjusted story of Root: the harlot turn
 Wife turn widow turn immigrant turned prophet.


Details | I do not know? | |

November 27th

Dear Mother:

Nov 27, 1985 There was boy name Nicholas Jones as I was conceive by Tracey 
Washington and Todd Jones. But I

Stood out the only child in my mom eyes. The only man she really needed at the 
time. Not really depended on a man that

could walk on his on two feet. but a person that she know will always be there 
and stand right by her. An when Nov 27 

of 1985 came it came her man. Nicholas Christopher Jones an 20 years later we 
still go at it like we Shaq and D.Wade.

you want catch one with out the other because I stay in the post, I want to know 
who said we couldn't love are moms 

more than dad's. nutthing against mines but just know he wasn't here all twenty 
years, He Like Lindsay Hunter he was 

there for the first 7 years and then got traded, But then I say around 2000 he 
come back like everything suppose to be 

aight you know I'm jus playing My defense correctly so he would never walked 
over my D.wade again because I would 

hate to have to face him like Kobe had when Chris Childs gave him a five figure 
discount. An i want be sure that my 

defense is played correctly. Correctly i say i will be 20 on this Day just a different 
year and different Decade 2005. I 

want to thank this women for keeping me the way she could all these years It 
took heart and help from the man upstairs

because i knew she couldn't do it all by her self, not one time have he gave up on 
us as a family he stood there and said

he will be in good hands when you dropped him off at school out of your eyes. He 
still would be watch. Allow me to 

Re-Introduced Myself My Name is N.I.C.K. Ceo of my family, got the hottest 
mother on my team just let me told you

how i defend her 85% from the field because i can't miss. baby i'm hot out here 
just like she called me i'm her one and 

only. Because how i feel Only God Can Judge Me. all that to say Happy B-day I 
made it. Love you Mommie


Details | I do not know? | |

Motherland

             Motherland
             Journeying into the unknown
             Journeying into a deep soil
             Into a trunk, which has been uprooted and stripped of its branches
             Removed from its natural soil and thrust in cold and bitter climate
             Of an unknown land


              
             Motherland
             We have come
             We have survived
             We have come to embrace our motherland
       
               
             Motherland
             Forgive me if I don’t understand
             Nor speak my mother tongue
             For we have been away for too long
             Forgive me if I don’t answer when you hail at my name


             For the name mista smith gave me 
             Has a different tone, an unfamiliar beat
             To the name you persistently call me with
             Like a frightened mother who screams for her lost child
             And only to hear the echoes of her own voice



           We were stolen
           Captured like hunted antelopes
           Only this hunter had no love
           We were herded of onto a boat 
           And shipped of to an unknown destination
           A land that had no sunshine
           A climate that was so cold it cracked my soft skin
           And offered no shea butter to grease my cracked wounds



           Motherland
           Forgive us if we do not bear our tribal marks
           Forgive me if my hips do not move ceremoniously to the drumbeat
           For I’m of mixed breed
           Part British and Part Spanish


           I am a descendant of a slave girl
           A property that mista smith could enjoy a t his own convenience
           A property that he could explore
           Benefits of hips, and my upright breast
           And the rhythmic of my waist-beads


           Motherland
           RAPE
           I heard you cry out
           RAPE
           I cried back


           Motherland
           I was your untouched child
           But I became part of mista smith property
           Part of his wealth and livestock
           And a property cannot be raped
         

           Motherland
           Hush, do not weep
           For we have survived, we have journeyed home


Details | Bio | |

Me

I'm not afraid of the devil you made
Because you made me the devil
I must confess, something's grown in my chest
It hasn't made me a rebel
Make my hell into something you can sell
But something no one can ever love
You cannot sedate all the things you hate
Though you may have blinded some

Me, a name I call myself
But not my real name
Just a disease you've passed onto me
To stay the same

You are afraid of the reasons you stayed
Because you stayed for the fear
Be glad you can choose which limb you lose
Whenever life isn't quite so dear
If you suggest we die like the rest
I'll leave you here to rot alone
But if you force me to carry misery
I'll come to find all my life is gone

Me, a name I call myself
But not my real name
Just a disease you've passed onto me
To stay the same

I wish I was an only son
Death is my sister, my brother is a gun
I wish I was an only son
Your name is one
To me, it's none

Me, a name I call myself
But not my real name
Just a disease you've passed onto me
To stay the same

Just a disease
Just a disease
Just a disease
To play the game


Details | Bio | |

Stressing

STRESSING
Stop your stressing 
Look at this life is worst than the great depression 
Ma looks at the gun 
Yeah I got a pistol but I'm not the only one
You got to realize I’m not just your son
I’m the gutter son
And this pistol is among many ma
Because the gutter got so many sons 
And for me not to carry 
It would be scary 
Because homie down the street said it was no need 
Now remember ma yesterday old dude was buried
School is not going to educate you 
To watch your back 
Get money fast enough to feed you today 
Protect your life and save your life before tomorrow
I can’t borrow from the textbooks, money 
I need to eat I need shoes on my feet 
Now stop your stressing ma 
Yell I be out there with my daddy
You know his name the streets 
Though it’s not a person it’s the only thing that reaches me 
The Conner block sign should have been my last name 
Because I stay posted and I state claim 
So stop your stressing ma 
I’m being a man, I’m not afraid 
This life is testing 
And I’m going to pass it today 
Now listen to everything you say
Because in reality it’s not the gutter way
So stop your stressing ma
Yeah your son carrying a gun 
You got to understand this one is among so many ma


Details | Blank verse | |

A Best Achivement

IRA; a strong idealogic and separatists,
At last surrender to the democratic values,
Over decades, after a long fight to achieve,
Thousand innocents blood on their name.

When a religion has a fight against a religion,
What a person can achieve in this invisibility,
He can kill himself on the name of a religion,
With a belief God will honour him in heaven.

But God never honoured to anyone,
When Lord Jesus was fighting for justice,
Tarrents hanged him innocently until death,
A miracle was disappeared to punish cruelity.

Lord Mohammad was fighting for justice,
To deliver a better service on the name of God,
But no power came to save innocents,
They were martyred as Hassan and Hussain.

Lord Krishna pretends that a man borns,
For his duty, he has to do that as he did,
Million people were killed in a battle,
As respect for a lady is a story of Mahabharta.

Lord Rama has a fight for his honour,
To defeat King Rawana who was seeking justice,
For his sister she was insulted to cut her nose,
Is Rama respects for ladies as Sita was banished?

Guru Govind Singh when declared a Khalsa,
Society killed his innocent family to stop him,
To establish a religion in a religion’s boundary,
And killed thousands innocently who followed him.

At last they admit that religion can’t survive,
Without a state power and a state power,
Can’t deliver peace without a belief in God,
They also surrender at last to democratic values.

Democracy where a person can enjoy his liberty,
Thousands lost their innocent lives to replace,
A better system to remove dictatorship,
As Iraqi nation is fighting for democracy.

Democracy is a best from for governments,
If they know how to respect and honour a law,
Law is superb in democracy, law fails there,
A system is corrupted, nation has no respect.

All likes peace because peace is only a tool,
That provides sources to develop personality,
To understand a cause of birth to identify him.
Who achieves a best achievement of nature?


Details | Free verse | |

A Mother Pleas

A Mother Pleas
A True Story
He was only seven when she lost him. Her name is Francis eye did not get his 
name but he is 23 now and if you can read this poem boy your mother is in 
Tucson alive and riding on the bus. My name is not important and eye look for no 
reward just contact pleas your mother for she is aPARENTly annoyed at missing 
you at last and wanting love. What is a life real life worth at least a poem and a 
hope. A love eye heard her speak so calm about you she is never given up.


Details | I do not know? | |

Jayden Makieh Kelly (Part 2)

Jayden Makieh Kelly
    
  As each day and the third month passed by I was still shocked.  But, my love for you was solid, set firmly in place and locked.  At four months pregnant I felt your fluttering, and at first, thought it was quite bothering.  I also got to hear your tiny heart beat.  The sound was so sweet and pleasing to my ears of course, but at the same time it reminded me of a galloping horse!  At five months I started to feel a little less sick and even got to feel your undeniably, strong kick!  Now the feeling of you moving around and kicking, nestled in my stomach where you resided,  comforted me because it allowed me to know that you still safely existed right there inside me.  From the beginning, my family and I had been hoping that you would be a girl and allowed that feeling to deeply sink.  We went to stores looked at all the girls clothes and imagined how pretty you would be in pink.  At twenty-two weeks on October 13, I had the ultrasound that would determine your health and sex.  Deep down inside I knew that I wouldn’t hear the news that I had expected.  The doctor typed on the screen ‘Boy’ alongside your little wee wee, and I must admit the news kind of upset me.  I was upset because I had gotten used to thinking about all of the pink and the girl names, however no matter what my love for you would undeniably be the exact same.  Boy or girl it makes no difference, because for life my baby boy I am in this.  At almost six months, your name was decided and planned with good meaning behind it.  Jayden Makieh Kelly is who you will come into the world as.  Your name starts with the letter ’J’ just as your dad’s.  Your middle name is Makieh and was derived from a very special person in my life.  He recently passed away and his name was Mack William Sandidge, Junior.  I could not give birth to you and not include him as part of our future.  For almost twenty years he did things that I don’t think could be done by no other.  He provided and took care of me as if he was my father.  Even though biologically he wasn’t, psychologically, and every other way he was.  There wasn’t a limit to all that he gave, all that he shared, all of his love.  I still don’t think I could ever thank him enough, so with your middle name I provided  a small token of such.


Details | I do not know? | |

DREAM

EVERY SECOND OF THE DAU I WISH YOU WERE HERE
SO I WOULD NEVER STRAY.

EVERYDAY I PLEADE AND PRAY FOR TO COME BACK
AND FANILY STAY.

I ASK GOD WHY HE TOOK YOU AWAY, BUT I NEVER
GET AN ANSWER. SO I STRAY DRINKING IT UP
HOPEING MY PAIN WILL SOON GO AWAY.

I LOOK UP AT THE SKY JUST AS A SHOOTING 
STAR FLY'S BY. I WISH YOU WERE HERE AND MY
PAIN WOULD GO AWAY, BUT THEN SOON AFTER 
WISHING GOD WOULD JUST TAKE MY LIFE 
AWAY.

I TRY TO IMAGINE YOU ARE HERE AND JUST 
EXALTY WHAT I WOULD SAY...

WHY WEREN'T YOU AT THE COURTHOUSE THAT DAY?
I WOULD HAVE NEVER SINGED THOSE PAPERS THAT 
TOOK MY LIFE AWAY.

ALL I EVER WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO COME AND 
TAKE ME AWAY. 

MY FUTURE IS GRIM AND MY HEART IS GRAY. I SEE
YOU IN THE CEMERATRY, I CALL YOUR NAME BUT 
YOU DON'T ANSWER.

I RUN TO YOUR SIDE AND FALLTO THE GROUND. 
AS I READ ALOUD MY NAME ON THE STONE I 
SCREAM GOD I'M SORRY PLEASE TAKE ME HOME.

THEN WAKE UP SCREAMING IN MY ROOM, WITH HER 
BY MY SIDE TELLING EVERYTHING WILL BE 
ALRIGHT.

BUT I KNOW IT BECAUSE YOUR NOT HERE
AND NO MATTER WHAT I DO OR WHAT I SAY MY
HURT AND MY PAIN WILL NEVER GOAWAY.