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Mother Women Poems | Mother Poems About Women

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

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Details | Narrative | |

Will You Tie My Shoes When I Grow Old

You were beautiful, 
my tiny child, 
wrapped tightly in my arms, 
close to my heart.
I listened to you breathing.
I counted your fingers
and your toes.
Helpless, 
you cried out to me
and I loved you
with every ounce of my soul.

Will you hear me
when I cry out? 
Will you hold me close
as I held you then? 

I remember the day
You took your first step.
There was no stopping you.
Your feet gave you freedom
to explore the world
like never before
but danger lurked.
I opened those doors anyway, 
cautiously, 
and introduced
you to the world.
Where will you be
when my legs
no longer run? 
no longer work? 
Will you realize
that I love
freedom too? 

I laugh
about that day
you first tied your shoe.
We tried and tried
to get that rabbit
in that hole
and you finally did it.
You pointed your toes
for everyone to see
how proud you were.

I am proud too, 
of my writing
and my drawing, 
of my needlework
and my cooking.
But my hands are beginning to ache
and my fingers will not bend.
I will lose the things
that make me proud
except for you.
Hopefully not you.
Will you let me
brag on you? 
Even tell wild stories
that are a bit beyond the truth? 
Will you be proud of me too? 

I waved good-bye
that morning when you left
on that large, yellow bus.
I was so scared.
I know you were too.
You waved at me bravely
through the dusty window
but I saw the water
forming in your eyes.
You came home, however, 
full of pride and joy.
You sang the alphabet song
and got most of it right.
You practiced for hours
until you could sing it
even in your sleep.

But 
I'm afraid.
I forgot
whether I took
my pills today or not.
I forgot
if I told this story before.
I even forgot once
who you were
and it terrified me.
My mind
is my treasure
the only thing I have left, 
and I heard you make
fun of me
for not remembering
that I gave you the
same gift as last year.
Will you love me
when I no longer
know who I am? 

You came home blushing
from the glow of
your first kiss.
Your first love, 
the one you thought was real.
You talked about him non-stop.
You changed for him. You gave.
But he left you anyway
for a blue-eyed girl
and I held you
while you cried for him.

I too have a
broken heart.
The love of my life
left me after
fifty-six years.
He left me here
to live life on my own
while he moved on
to another realm
And I cry for him too.
I long for his shoulder
and strong embrace.
I feel betrayed
because he and I
made a deal
that we would never
leave the other alone.
Yet I am alone
sitting in an echoing house
with no hands to hold.

You welcomed her home today- 
your tiny baby girl.
She has your eyes
and possibly your toes.
I see you counting them
as they roll me
into the room.
You finally came
to visit.
It has been a while.

You look up at me
with tears in your eyes
and ask
almost desperately, 

"Will she tie my
shoes
when I get old? "


Details | Rhyme | |

Sentinel of Strength

* This one is for my Mommy, her Mommy ETC- the lucky ones.


Nourishment- encouragement.

Minister of all heart's treasure
Donor of the kindest pleasure 
Infinite love, no measure
Powerful embraces, your leisure.
 
Sublime being, forever proud
Never shallow, nor a shroud
Instructing all, love you vowed
Quiet sentinel, strength so loud.

Upon weary days, you'd not smother
Heart enriching, me 'n' my brother
To adore you, there in no other
Divulging to all, the perfect Mother.


This one is for the unlucky one's who have or had no choice.

O' girl born to royalty
From the moment of birth, 
Preened for the aristocracy
Prospect to a King's loyalty-

Fed from another's breast
Mother was busily searching for
your future husband's crest.
Princess's every movement planned,
even to whom would be given her hand.

Aged of thirteen years, 
a fountain of ideas was becoming hers.
Learned in languages, yet 
to never have a tongue
Driven to madness
O' so very young.

"All that is expected of thee
is to be wife and Queen, in this land
of unity. Bear sons and speak not
a whit, after all... you are but a 
woman, silly twit." Her Father, the 
King explained that eve 'fore her nuptial.

"But Father, I know not even who he is!"
The frightened Princess softly spoke.

Yet the argument was always the same.
She was to wed the King of a strange land,
to go with him as always planned.
She was to forge the union of Kingdoms.
To do as told and enjoy all that is grand.

The day of the Union, she met her 
betrothed, walking down the isle
He stood there , some fifty years old,
large, pasty, expectant and with a vulgar smile.

And all her fears, even within her 
young years- drove her instantly mad.
In a rage, she died then and there
rather than to be locked in her Royal 
cage.


These are akin to so many women and mother's alive to this day.
Never should these women go unnoticed.


Details | Free verse | |

SHE'S A MOM,SHE'S THE ONE

She's the one who carried you in thy womb.
Every day she counts until you grew.
A happiest moment she ever had,
Is when she first touched your little hands.

She's the one in charged to everything.
Twenty-four-seven,her duty never ends.
Do the house chores,nanny and cook.
Doesn't receive  salary for her hardwork.

She's the one who kept tears in the night.
Just to assure a family will keep in sight.
She endures all heaviness this life has bring.
To keep her children away from fears.

She's the one  gives unconditional love.
Forgive our sin, no matter how it hurts her heart.
She has a bag full of smiles.
A hug and kiss is all that she wants.

As she gets old, please love her back.
Repay her hardworks and multi tasks.
Take care the way she did for us.
We'll be a mom too,and do what she does.




~~ Dedicated to all Souper MOMs~~

**HAPPY Souper MOMS DAY!!!! **


Details | I do not know? | |

Happy Mother's Day--God's Blessings to all Women--Your Mother and Mine

Your Mother and Mine
Tis Every woman
Whomsoever helps 
Any children.. anytime

Looks after them
Fixes and gives
them something to eat
Cleans them up... 
to smell sweet

helping them to live
and grow.. 
guiding their ways
Edifying thier lives
Within these earthly days

Your Mother and Mine
Always spending their time
Taking care of any children..
Giving from within their hearts
So Children can go on living
 
helping with childs needs
Fixing up 
their skinned-up knees
helping them 
with their broken hearts
Wiping away tears.. 
helping them cope with fears
Watching them 
grow through the years

As there are many women
Within this world.. Care-giving
Whom is Your Mother.. and Mine
Even some  have children of their own
Some are Grandmothers.. Aunts.. 
Teachers, Preachers, Doctors, Nurses
Any Women.. whom gives tender-love
Even women of the neighborhood tis Mothers

All the women whom tend.. 
to look after any children
whom go out of their way
bringing compassion with smiles 
giving many children..  Love everyday

God's Blessings are giving 
within the hearts of many women
Whom choose to be.. for many children
even when they have their own..
These women are tis as I see..
God's Blessings.. of Many Mothers

There are many children
Whom seek so many women out
Whom they choose to call.. them their Mother
Whom shows them Love.. Tenderheartedly giving
For I know.. this without a doubt
For many children come to my house
They.. as All Children are.. Blessings
God gives in many ways.. all women Blessings of Children

Your Mother and Mine
Children say this to me all the time
Motherly Love.. is giving by God above 

Happy Mother's Day!!! 
To All Women.. 
Even Mother's as Mine whom already gone to Heaven.. 

Dedicated to You.. Momma.. 
as You always be.. My Mother 
and many.. You had given Love.. Tenderheartedly unto
Tis be.. Your Mother and Mine...
                                                 "I Love Momma"


Details | Ballade | |

A Mother Like No OTher

I sing of a special mother
One like no other
One bothered about another

A mother who smiles and care
One who did nothing but share
It is great to know she is always there

When tear drops she brought a toy
Her whispers sparkles unceasing joy
Her love is stronger than the Helen of Troy

You taught me from wrong to right
You taught me the difference between darkness and light
You taught me to recite the Lord’s Prayer day and night

Envelope yourself in a mothers Love
For she is like an angel from above
Never trade her love for the price of a dove

As we celebrate all mothers in a special way
Thank you for your fidelity, even when we went astray
And above all, thank you for what we are today

He grants the barren woman a home, Like a joyful mother of children.
Praise the LORD! Ps 113:9


Details | List | |

Qualities of Health Engendering Women

They see strengths
Not the limitations
These are people who will make you proud of yourself
They will tell you why you’re special
Trust you to the point you have to answer their expectations
They make you better than you normally are
You can be proud of yourself
They respect you 
For what you’ve done
Where you’ve come from
They see what you’ve experienced something real
Respect you for your courage
They live by their rules
They do not expect you to follow theirs
They are at peace to themselves
They are not proving anything to you
They are good listeners
Sincere in their interest in you
You feel important
They are available for honest
Genuine discussion
Makes you want to share yourself


Details | Rhyme | |

Mother

She is strong but also weak
with that beautiful smile
so graceful and meek
Her touch is soft
and her words ever so sweet
Never a dull moment
always bright and sometimes lenient
with a positive outlook
even when it's clearly out of the books
She wipes the tears, and forces the smiles
touches the heart
and never you dare cross her child
Mother, Mama, Mom, Mommy
the many names that she goes by
All quite fitting for the warrior inside
with the love giving and super healing ways
she never makes a mistake
Even when you thought she was wrong
give it a day and you'll realize exactly what she was trying to say all along ( you soon realize she was right all along)
She is the all knowing, all loving, super talented and magical gift from the God above


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 | Free verse | |

DEAR MOTHER

DEAR MOTHER

Dear Mother of all
Sweetest mother of all Time
Queen of the world of women
You never aborted me
You raise me with your hard earn
You teach me the way of the righteous
You Bless me with the blessing of your mouth
Who will I praise if not you
Who will I believe if not you
Who will I trust if not you
You that carry me for nine months
You put me to bed on the 17th Day of the Sixth Month of the Glorious Year
You breast feed me till I am fit for the race
You put together your earning for my first birthday
You work under the sun and the rain just for me to be among equals
I understand it is not easy in this part of the world
Yet you gave me a reason to live
And even though I heard I use to be stubborn when I a little kid
Yet your love for me never ceased
Memories fade me not of my past failure
You hold me close to you and whisper to my ear saying
"Foluso The sun still shine, you can still make it"
No wonder I am reaching my goals now because your Sweet words still live in me
Words are not enough to express how I feel
But I have to tell you this Sweet mother
Ain’t a woman alive that can take my mama’s place


Details | Couplet | |

My Mother

My mother takes me to different places
and laughs at all my silly faces.

She runs me a nice warm bath
and helps me with my math.

My mother makes me healthy snacks to eat
and sometimes let's me have a treat.

She takes care of me when I'm hurt 
and cleans me up when I'm covered in dirt.

My mother talks to me about all the dangers
and reminds me not to talk to strangers.

She tells me not to lie
and wipes my tears when I cry.

My mother always brushes my hair
and teaches me how to share.

She claps for me when I'm right
and comforts me in the night.

My mother is 5 feet, 4 inches tall
and she is the best mother of all!


by Ana Espinola Collins

I wrote this poem for children years ago....I thought today was the perfect day to share it with everyone!


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 | Classicism | |

My Weakness made perfect

As we have all come to know and accept
That within certain parameters we find ourselves trapped
It’s either you’re stuck with wearing pants to rule and impress
Or socially considered inferior and wearing a dress
Well, I for one, fortunately belong to the latter
However, at the excruciating sensation of being perpetually overlooked, I shudder

For I know my worth exceeds that of just another fine lady
A woman who ignores harsh Reality and hides behind a smile, looking dandy
A conformist, being looked down on by what is called a man
So from this awkward position of helplessness, to remove myself without delay is my plan
This feeling of constantly being emotionally and socially dormant
Exhausts me – utterly drains my energy, to be used as a dusty doormat

Then carelessly, I am cast into a sea of vulnerability
Viewed by society as a mere object of instability
I, being of greater value, will remove myself from behind Male’s shadow
For I refuse, the social norm of this world, to follow
Even though seen as nothing, for myself I have respect
And to the world, my greatest strengths I shall reflect

Because I possess rare beauty that goes deeper than the skin
So onto my strengths, I shall trustingly lean
Where man exhibits his pompous ways I humbly outshine
For I am a woman of worth and that, the beauty in me shall always define
As a woman, I am made perfect in my weakness
For I thrive, where man tries his best to impress


Details | Free verse | |

My Gift

It turns out, I'm still a little kid.
The little kid who cries.
The little kid who's afraid.
The little kid who clings on to mom.
The little kid who falls every time he runs.
The little kid who gets bruises, wounds, scars--- patching band aids over it.

Now I understand.
I understand why She would leave me, while dropping my siblings off to school
She didn't have enough.
She would come back and bring Champorado. Spaghetti when she has enough.
She would help me dress for school: putting socks over my feet, fix my imperfect uniform, give me kisses for luck.
At times, I would cry when she drops me off.
At times, I would cry with them, every time their parents drop them off.
Most of the time, I would be very happy to see her there, standing, waiting for me.
She would carry me when I didn't have the energy.
She would carry me whenever I'm sick.
She would carry me to show affection.

She didn't have enough.
She works hard every day.
She works hard to keep the house clean.
She works hard to keep the fridge full.
She prays hard to survive.
She prays hard for guidance.
She prays hard for strength.
She raised us with her own bare hands.
She was our father.
She is my Mom.


Details | Narrative | |

Female Companion

                                                     She is so typical
                                                           So critical
                                                   For most part difficult

                                   I never really could grasp her in such way
                                       She just wants me to some how stay
                               She comes to my man cave and makes me obey

                                          Shy she was and now I am scared
                                              In such way I almost cared
                              She thinks she can do everything for me I swear

                         She makes me guess everyday but I keep on believing
     Because it is fun to give her a kiss, while she does not know when she is sleeping
                She stresses out but I will tell her my love for her keeps deepening

                So for the most part I just keep her close to make her smile and me
                                When I do things I do it for her it is always a key
            Call me romantic or call me stupefied, but it makes her so, so, sooo, happy


Details | Haiku | |

What People Were and What People Are

People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from

Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move

But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.

Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.

Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.

Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.

Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.

Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Nevermore.

Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Forever.


Details | Free verse | |

Unspoken Love

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

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


Details | Sonnet | |

AFRICA

In the kingdom of the Waters
She sits enthroned on its womb
Flanked by the silver facet Atlantic-Indiana
As the barking tides wrestle her marble feet

In the court of the Tropics
She is robed in green foliage of ancient savannah
Adorned with pearls of arid sands,
With ivory mountain and cincture of rift

In the mythic boarder of the Equator
She rests at the footstool of the fierce sun
Comforted by cloud’s tears
And caressed by solemn winds

In the royal neighborhood of Continents
She locks horn with Europe
In the witness of Asia
And her offspring Madagascar 


Details | Epic | |

Statutory Rape 101

Everybody knows that it's against the law for grown men and grown women to date all of the underage boys and girls,. let alone a 14-year-old boy or a 15-year-old girl. The law also states that any adult who tries to have this so-called "intimate sexual relationship" with any of the underage boys and/or girls would likely go to jail for a period of time and upon release, they'll have to be register sex offenders for the rest of their lives. It seems that those teen girls would rather date men in their 20's or 30s than guys their age and those teen boys would rather date women twice their age than girls their age, as well. but luckily, their parents (the mothers and the fathers) are here to prevent these so-called "May-December" relationships from ever happening, especially when they're protecting their teenage offspring from dirt-bags like these would-be pedophiles. But no matter what the parents do, no matter how hard they try, their teen sons and/or daughters, they secretly continuing dating older men/older women, even at night (midnight, 2 am, or 3 in the morning, e.g.). And the next thing everybody knows, their parents, they will have found out about it; thereby finding them in bed with the adults; their parents should make multiple police reports and pud the cradle robbers behind bars for good. Boy this is starting to look like an episode of "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" (Season 6-Episode 19-Intoxicated featuring Danielle Panabaker) and an episode of "Snapped," especially when Sarah Johnson killed her own parents in cold blood because she was afraid that the late Mr. and Mrs. Alan and Diane Johnson would send this guy name Bruno Santos to prison or have him deported back to Mexico for statutory rape (by way of dating a then-16-year-old girl). There's no way that those teen boys and teen girls are ever going to get into a bunch of serious, intimate relationships with a bunch of would-be cradle-robbing adults. They need to concentrate on their education and they need to be with guys and girls their age. I mean, one teen boy dating a n adult female? One teen girl dating an older man? My God, their parents will be seriously upset about this. Who on Earth would be dumb enough to fall for an older woman or an older man? And if these would-be pedophiles in the form of grown men and women even attempt to rob these teen boys and girls of their innocence and whatnot, the parents are going to have a problem up in here.


Details | I do not know? | |

For Men Everywhere One Billion Rising

1 Billion Rising.

For Men Everywhere.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Stop!

Stop the abuse!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Listen!

Listen to the voices!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Think!

Think of how you treat,

grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Act!

Act now to change yourself!

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when you stop,

the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

is perpetrated by,

grand-fathers,
colleagues,
boyfriends,
husbands,
nephews,
brothers,
partners,
fathers,
uncles,

men,

all men.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when us men stop,

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

today, now.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!


Details | Free verse | |

Invisible

They
Are
Among us.
Not alien
But more
Like us than
You will ever know.
They are
Neighbors
Dying
Of
Disease
And 
Hate
And
Grief.
They live
Next door
Behind walls
Built
Not of stone
But of fear.
Hungry
Penniless
Alone.
They are
Stereotypes
Birthing
Children.
Ad dictions
Carving
Flesh from
Bones.
They are
Sold
Into
Slavery
Beaten
By
Other
People's
Philosophies.
They are
Invisible.
But not
To
Me.


Details | I do not know? | |

One Billion Rising

Today we rise.

No more hiding in the shadows,

of culture,
creed,
tradition.

No more silent complicity,

defensive arguments,
sickening pretences,
shabby excuses,

for the actions of men,

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

Today, we rise,

as one.

Today the change starts,

with me,
within me.

Today we rise.


Details | Rhyme | |

Name the Movie

This was released before many of you were alive.
It was picked as Best Picture of nineteen fifty-five.
The Best Actor Oscar was earned by one who would be
later known on television in "McHale's Navy".
Its title is the same as the main character's name.
He was a single, thirty-something man who felt shame
for why he was not married, and did not have a wife.
His lack of success with women was hurting his life.

His mother always hoped to make her son a bridegroom.
She suggested that he visit the Stardust Ballroom.
So he went there with a friend on a Saturday night.
As his mother said, there were lots of women in sight.
However, as he stood there, he would be filled with fright.
A dance refusal from a woman did not feel right.

Suddenly, another guy stuck with a bad blind date
met him with a proposal that would insinuate
that he take the blind date home so that her man could leave.
This was something our main character could not believe.
The guy's sudden departure left the poor girl in tears.
This event made our hero overcome all his fears.
He followed her out to the fire escape by chance.
When he met her, he politely asked her for a dance.
So the man of this story spent the rest of his night,
with this unattached woman who would prove a delight!
If you would like to know the rest of this fine story,
all I would have to say is, "Go and see the movie"!


Details | Abecedarian | |

Women

Behold a wonderful being is here
Mind of a lion and heart of saints
Made looking weak but with might so strong
With beauty so serene and exquisite the scene
Created as a guide and companion for men
Created as a creator of other beings
Sacrificing her body and comfort for we
A comforter for the child
And a supporter of man
O' ye mothers of earth
A free gift to even nature itself
Being meek even in moments of stress
What a gift to behold.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Women

We laugh and cry. We smile and have fun
But even when that is all said and done 
In our hearts still lie the sadness and woes
I guess our brains are too slow to know

No amount of cheer can hold back what we feel
With our souls overwhelmed we each find our way to deal
Whether in anger or anxiety, in guarded fear or open minds 
We know that they are with us, in front and behind

As birds of a feather we are drawn together
Each carrying with us a pain that binds forever
We have become so much more than simply friends
The strength that we carry in us will always mend

Our broken hearts and tradgic tales
The hardships we have endured will make us prevail
We are the women that we are today
Because we let no limits hold us at bay.

Written on the 11th of September as proof of the strength that I see everyday not just in my family and friends but in women everywhere. Not to be cliched but I truely believe that the ones I wrote this for are amazing women that I cherish very much and I hope you can feel it too :)


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? | |

My mother

she was an angry woman
not much love, 
she wouldnt put up with a man
abusing her, 
the mistake women made then,
prostitution for security,
selling your heart for money,
she regretted having me,
lost freedom,
tied down,
single mom, poor,
abused by the culture,
her love was shown
in that she didnt abandon us,
even though she was tempted,
her mother wasnt that strong,
my heart didnt value that,
i wanted to be wanted, loved.

I saw the other children, 
wanted, loved, rich,
my blinders on, 
rose coloured glasses,
envy, despair, no self esteem, 
worthlessness, less than human,

not expensive enough clothes,
not nice enough car,
"drop me off a block from school"
"I am not shopping at wal-mart"

something i didnt notice then
i have always been blessed with beauty
i never even saw the girls that adored me
too afraid, to poor, to stupid, 

If my mother didnt love me, how could another?
greedy, selfish women, angry, 
years of oppression, and taking it out on me,
the male, the enemy, "no love from mommy".

Now i pay the price for my fathers oppression.
the gay guys arent as wierd as i thought,
at least they are getting laid. 

The women i meet now, 
if i love them
i am not good enough for them
if i use them or tell them how pathetic they are,
they love me, addicted, cant leave. 

On occassion i love a weaker girl,
i see their potential,
usually sexually abused as a child,
they will leave, hate me, 
for my honesty, 
too afraid of love, of closeness,
get pregnant and leave or kill themself,
one or the other, such drama,
If a child wont end their suffering 
then death will. 

What did i do to deserve this?


Details | Free verse | |

Prized Possession

Prized Possession


When was it that society and religion
Became so afraid of the sexuality of women

Or was it just men who became afraid

Trapping and turning beauty into pornography
To suit the idealism of a capitalistic
Ideology
Made women its prized possession

There was once spiritual prowess in her nakedness
Once long ago
The symbol of womb and breast
Gave birth to life

And a possession was once the sexual expression
Of both women and men
Connecting
Copulating
In an essence of a spiritual unity
Defined by the pleasure both received
In giving to life

So how did sex become a sin
Dirtied by morals
And then sold in a tin 
Of instant readily affordable self gratification
When did your own sexuality
Become a commodity
For them to sale

And poor Eve, lead mankind to ruin
And she alone made responsible for the fall from Eden
So shall she pay the price in cultural centuries
Of Christian and Muslim oppression

Such is the weakness of men
That by muscle alone defends them
Such is the weakness of men
That their God must of course; be a man
Such is the weakness of men
That in the face of beauty
It must be their possession

Such is my contempt of those men
Who cannot comprehend
Where their own lives began
And who’s wives and daughter now exists
In a poor excuse for love and worship
Trapping and turning beauty into pornography
To suit the idealism of a capitalistic
Ideology
Made women its prized possession




Inspired by Brandy Megens poem “News at 5” 






Details | Free verse | |

The Gracious Woman

The gracious woman is hated
She is not overrated but such a natural one
Morals and values dictated
Through her trials and tribulations her smiles stun
Family and friends created
Stay optimistic throughout the long run
The woman is so courageous
A strong heart is number one
She seems to be contagious
Her relationships are always undone
Her worthiness is outrageous
To find another is dreadful
To lose her is regretful
A woman of this caliber is so special


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 26/Many

Patradoot or The Messenger26 /Many 
  
English version by  Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


These Indian women, who were called salves of man,
And even showed as degraded by the writer publisher Ms. Mayo,
You would see, what courage and bravery they have shown,
You can witness and see from your eyes, dear letter.

You will see them fighting fearlessly, dear letter,
While wearing beautiful saffron color sarees,
As if,  the goddess of courage is giving them strength,
To peacefully face lathe's and beatings on them,

Some where you will witness on your way, dear letter,
How bravely these women are struggling, while bearing,
Tortures and lathe’s in love of their motherland,
They go even to jails without fearing cruealities.

Such was the courage faced by brave and bold Indira,*
The only daughter of Kamla* on Zero Road, dear letter,
When she saved the honor of national flag,
While fearlessly struggling to carry on the procession.

Ravindra

Kanpur India 6th August 2010                                 to continue in 27

*Kamala …Full name Mrs. Kamla Nehru. The reference is for the mother of Mrs. Indira Gandhi or the late 1st woman Prime Minister of India.. Kamla Nehru wife of Jawaharlal Lal Nehru. She was a great social worker and Freedom fighter. My mother or the writer's ( Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor ) wife to whom the entire Patradoot is dedicated used to go with Late Kamla Nehru,  as her regular companion to awaken the women and men living even in poverty and slums areas of Allahabad

* Indira   or Mrs. Indira Gandhi. The reference is of Mrs. Indira Gandhi, who later on became the Prime Minister of India. She was taking part in the non-violent movement of Mahatma Gandhi, even while she was quite young. Indira Gandhi was also from Allahabad.

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
has any question or queries, they can 
send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my father late
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932, when he was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. 




 


Details | I do not know? | |

Woman's Day

Women's Day


wiping away those tears

of the brutal truths of your past

wiping away those tears

your spirit rises up, far beyond your scars

and your strength resides deep within you 

with an unshakeable resolve that shall forever last


...the weakened men whose brute force is so macho and empty 

and that has always been in your face

are now nothing but specks of aging, obsolete rust

flitting past you, for you hold it all together

as you always have 

rising up firm and strong from being shoved into the dust


...you are a mother, a lover, a daughter, a wife, and a worker ... above all a worker you have been

tying the loose ends together time after time

always there 

yet unseen


...a woman you are 

of fibre 

of courage

of being the bedrock on which we trample 

on whose shoulders this world stands

as you continue to work ceaselessly on

with lines on your face

and with raw wounds on your hands

but...

now your time has come

and no longer will you silently bear

the jabs and taunts of men

for now you proudly declare

that a mother am I, a daughter too, a lover and a wife as well

and now the time has come for them to awaken

to the tolling a new bell


...a bell that tolls for you

for you have taken back the pride and dignity that they stripped off you for ages

for now theirs is a lost cause while your battle still defiantly rages

through cities and homes and villages 

and in town after nameless town

for now the bell has tolled

and the time has passed for you

to be ever
again
put down


Details | Quatrain | |

That which destroy kings

Sampson’s Destiny was on a divine construction
Until a conniving Delilah brought him to destruction
A ‘Chick’ nearly destroyed David’s Kingdom
His son followed and defiled his wisdom

‘Cause of a whore Julius Caesar suffered ignominy
Mac Anthony was seduced and destroyed by a ‘ chick in mini’
Women in their twilight have destroyed many rulers
Women of easy virtue have ruined many Leaders

The hand that spread the bed felled a mighty-nation
Yea! That crafty heart has cast down a generation
She has slain many strong men, upon them she cast a spell
Her home is the broad way to hell

Young man! Be thou vigilant against this dangerous threat
Young man! Mummy warn thee of that ‘chick’ called Annette
If this virus can ravage ‘Giftedly Anointed’ men
Then common men, thou not skirt a whore’s den

Young man restrain thy Sexual Power!
Young woman control thy Sexual Power!
Restrain thy sexual drive for a righteous course
Look to Christ, He is thy strength and source

Consider the Son of Man! Who was never moved by evil
Consider the Son of Man! Who was never moved by the devil
David wrote of such an obedient Son
One more glorious than the noon day sun

“He shall be as the light of the morning
Springing out of the earth by shining”
He was moved by Eternal Affection
He was tempted yet lived a life of Perfection

Do not give your strength to women, Nor that which destroy kings- Proverbs 31:3[NKJV]


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 | I do not know? | |

Mother

Mother was sick I had to go
It would be a long drive on that road
There were miles between us
As I fought back the tears
Wondering if I would make it in time
Maybe I could nurse her back to health?
So we could spend some quality time
That was my plan
I wasn't ready to let her go
I arrived at her home, there she was
Lying in her bed, starring out the window
She turned to me and smiled
I hugged her thin frail body 
Held back the tears and gave her a smile
I turned to her nurse and whispered 
“How is she doing?”
The nurse looked at me and said,” The cancer has spread to her bones, it won’t be long”
It was too late, I felt like I let her down
I ran outside and fell to my knees, I began to cry
When I felt a warm hand run down my spine
I heard a soft voice whisper, “It won’t be forever”
I jumped back on my feet and looked to the sky	
Two sets of footprints across a cloud


Details | Rhyme | |

What's Happening to Marriages Today

What’s Happening to Marriages Today?

I was listening to someone just the other day…
And I couldn’t believe what he had to say!

He had left his wife and children for another!
She was young enough to be his daughter!

Here they were, “in love” and holding hands!
Hoping to soon, get their “wedding bands!”

They were pretending that this was so “cool.”
Living now by their own “set of rules!”

How sick and disgusting this is getting to be!
Is this something that many can’t see?

God gave us Adam and Eve to become one.
To bear fruit through daughters and sons!

He gave us marriage as holy vows are made.
Not to march in an “adulterous parade!”

We are treading on very dangerous ground!
Faithfulness and commitment 
are scarcely found!

The very definition of marriage is changing!
As the family unit is always rearranging!

Our only hope is in Jesus!  And him alone!
Let’s promote his love! Into our hearts and home!

Let’s allow his love to be our heart’s glue!
And bring new meaning to the words; “I love you!”

May his love bind our hearts and lives together!
And remain faithful to each other forever!

By Jim Pemberton    


Details | Rhyme | |

MY LIVING GODDESS

A notice without
 That fateful  night
 You became unbalanced
 Your thoughts scattered. 
 
 You were hit by a bout of pain
 You endured for its gain
 Though it was your first time
 You were determined to remain calm.
  
 The pain increased
 Yet you endured
 To dad you even managed to smile
 On the way to the hospital.
  
 You knew it was a momentous pain
 You arrived with that ultimate consolation
 Still vibrating with verve and vitality
 Within minutes, you brought me forth with less difficulty.
 
 I beheld the first rays of light
 I felt lost
 But you were there
 To drive away my fear.
 
 You carried me lovingly, so
 I clutched to you, never wanting to let go
 Though I was out of you
 I was very much still in you.
  
 As I took my first faltering steps
 With me always was your attention
 To retrace, redirect and guide my steps
 Whenever they were made in the wrong direction.
 
 As I started into this world
 Meeting folks of varying mould
 The good, the bad – Angels and Devils
 I  saw in you how to place them on their varied scales.
 
 When I'm confounded by the world's mysteries
 You unravelled them with sweet simple stories
 You told me life's riddles and jokes
 Showing me it's ups and downs.
  
 For my comfort and happiness
 You are making so much sacrifice
 You seem to always read my mind
 ‘Cos you always provide whatever I need.
 
 You taught me how to enjoy, endure life
 Through you I saw life
 In you I felt life
 With you solidly behind me I’m facing life.
 
 I’ll cause grass to grow at the polar region
 And get ice from a torrid zone
 With a candle flame I’ll dry the Atlantic
 And make mount Everest move for your sake. 
 
 My golden pearl
 Your worth, words cannot tell
 I'll always hold in reverence
 The serenity created by your thoughts and presence.
 
 You're my Oasis in the desert
 The truest love known in my heart
 My living goddess
 For you, my last blood I'll gladly sacrifice.


Details | Rhyme | |

To Every Mother

This is for the women
Who showed us the way
Who made us a snack after school every day

The ladies that love us
Through worst and the best
The ones strong and lovely with whom we've been blessed

The women that smiled
When we brought dandelions home
That pointed a direction, but let us roam

The females with callused hands
Hardworking and gentle
Minds always open, never judgmental

The women who held us
Dear to their hearts
Who would never let anything tear us apart

The ladies that kissed us
When our knees started to bleed
Showing us family is all that we need

This is for the mother's, the mommy's, ma's, madre's and mum's
The ones that have shaped us into what we've become




Details | Than-Bauk | |

Under Ground Cities

A man walks into a new generation gangster town,
there were guns, amoe, drugs, explosives, and allot of bad people, and that's all he found. 
He looked around the streets and saw allot of African American people running the show,
he walks into one corridor and into another city, and he welcomed the flow.

The new city, to him it wasn't any different than the one he just came out from, there were Muslims,
they wore gold chains and hiphop music was playing every where, the mostly dealt cocaine, and said fuk them.
there women were so beautiful, they would walk around in heals and panties were ever they went,
the man walked though all the gorgeous women and thought to him self, "no I can't". 

The man walks into a new city, he walked into "The Slums" it was the hardest and the baddest outlaws of the nations,
the man looked around and right away he did not like what he saw there, everything was dirty and without and patience. 
He couldn't wait to get out of there, the women were nasty and smelled like they haven't showered in years,
The man put his head down and started walking out of the slums with nothing in his eyes but tears.

The man walked into "Siberia" Everyone living there saw the man come in and they all rushed to great him,
at first the man got a little scared, but than he saw there smiles, so he smiled back at them. 
Everyone was living there was dancing to a death mettle Hip Hop music, while drinking and sniffing cocaine with a gun on there sides,
The man walks to the bar while looking at all the beautiful women that are dancing and giving him a sexy look.
Than the BOSS of the city comes up to him, pores him a drink and tells him how he is the BOSS of the whole West Coast, 
the man looked at him and smiled, he put his hand around the boss, looked at everyone around and said, "Let's Toast".


Details | I do not know? | |

To my mother

When laughter and pain have etched their lines
Upon your loving face,
When youth has flown to warmer climes
And gone without a trace.
When your footsteps grow much slower,
And twilight brings its calm,
I too my pace shall lower,
And lend my loving arm.

We will walk on in silence,
In the stillness of old friends,
Travelling the straightest road
With no more lying bends.

I’ll take your weight on my shoulder,
And lift the burden you cannot hold,
And tell you all I could not say,
In the silent way of the old.


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 | |

For Women

The modern day women of today are abused and tortured.
Not the physical of scars and wounds,
but the mental of intellectual suffocation.
What man can say: I am the bearer of life.
show me your proof and I’ll show you a liar.
What man can step forward and say: I was not born from a woman.
What man can say: I did not spend 9 months in their mother’s womb.
The truth is plain to see.
The hatred for women is bitterly unjust.
 
We should not simply acknowledge our women,
but understand, respect and love our women
for they are walking sanctities of wisdom and truth.
How can we celebrate life without saluting our wonderful women?
The nurtures of time; past, present and future
and still we choose to cast authority over them.
This general consensus of ownership must stop.
There is nothing weak in acknowledging a female heart.
As a man it is not a crime to say; I love you mother. 
I love you sister. I love you wife. I love you friend. 
 
On my behalf, I will respect each and every woman
regardless of if she respects herself.
Yet in time,
I know she will grow to love her own.
Valuing her every curve, acquired intellect, 
display of heart, and ounce of spirit.
As a beautiful and insightful woman,
in time she will grow to love herself,
love her eyes and love her soul
Just as I will accordingly do.

For more poetry goodness visit  www.checkmyflow.co.uk 


Details | I do not know? | |

For Mother Teresa

For Mother Teresa

to see...

the clarity of beauty between the murky folds of life

to see...

the simple truths of living
between the horror and the endless strike

to see...

the innocent smiles of the children at play
while the elder preach hate and division and continue to slay

to see...

the endless yearning for that simpler better place
away from the hollow emptiness of this ostentatious space

to see...

the open vistas of this pale blue dot
the soft reds and fruity greens as this home is all we have got

to see...

the tears of the dispossessed who have been cruelly cast aside
and while we look the other way from their tears we may never hide

to see...

the endless hunger and despair and killing and greed
in the name of God or of ideology or of some or the other creed

to see...

and to see it all

and still stand tall

to hold on to the humanity

that resides deep within us all

may be our only saving grace

and though all of this sounds quaint and saccharine sweet

I need to remember all that I've said

the next time I look into a teary-eyed desolate face

to see...

that being human is simple if we only look beyond ourselves and see

that we are all one, him and her and them and us and you and me...



Details | Concrete | |

Mommy I love you

Mommy I love you



You should know how much I love you.You who gave birth to me,you who says I love you when i need to cry,you who help me the most through all my dramas,I love you so much momma.This day and all the other you put up with all the chaos's I bring I am so happy to call you my mom.Every person who looks at you know what a great job you did and how you raised me and my brother and sister I can only thank God that you are my mom.I know this might be late or even overdo but you know I can only hold you for so long even if I don't seem happy if I look like I'm going to cry never once think it was your fault cause you know what I love you so much.There was once a time I was so sick i couldn't stand but in only a week you healed me with your love and hugs thank you ever so much mommy.Even if I get to old to sit in your lap.even if I get to old to call you mommy and run into your arms,even if I am to old to say mommy take me to school,you should know your the only women in my life that accepts me for me.This child you gave birth to,the only person who can give my dreams a rest and will wait till I am once again open and wearing my heart out on my arm,You the women who put up with this child who was ever bad.Mommy I love you so much even if it over do your the only person who I can ever call mommy and jump into your arms.


Details | Blank verse | |

Memoirs of The Damaged

Imagine a small frail girl,
Sitting in the darkest corner of a poorly lit room, 
Only lit by the cautious sunlight that rebelliously shines through the crack in the curtain – if she dares
And thank God for that brave beam of light,
That ray of hope that reminds her,
That though the sorrow may last for the night, the Lord’s joy comes in the morning – for He cares

But please remember this little girl,
Before she discovered the very existence of hopefuless, faith and grace,
She had marks all over her body, memories, each one with a story, begging to be shared– if she dared

In the sinfulness of the night menfolk would come and entice her mother,
Tempt her mother into practicing the secrets of the night,
Time and time again she would watch as mummy would repeatedly, 
Repeatedly give herself to such ungently men, who lustfully enjoyed her company.

Our little girl always hid when these hankering knights of the night came to,
‘play and pay’,
she just wanted to stay hidden away, 
until one day
when the hem of her nightgown,
was visible beside the chair, her cover was blown.
She would never forget the words he uttered, “how much for her?”

She still cries nocturnally,
Remembering his perspiration and dampness all over her tiny frame,
With every roll and satisfied movement,
she felt her soul crush gradually into powder, 
only to be bullied and chased away by the wind.

And the next morning,
After being left like an abused and neglected puppy,
She would wake up with the bruises round her waist and between her thighs,
She would have the sour taste of his manly solutions, 
that had been drowned and gargled down her pint-sized throat,
And she would cry, as she saw her mother counting the money, 
The money her little girl had made,
And that damaged petite mademoiselle,
Would return to her corner, she’d sit and tremble,
Knowing there was going to be another visitor that night, and the night after and the night after that,
For God knows how long

At a young age I learnt the power that a man takes from a woman,
I saw my mum morph into a slave for those sinful sons,
I saw how she gave of herself, dusk to dusk 
and let them take any bit of sanity she had left within her
this insane mindset that she remains in her till today as I write, 
has been the root cause of my scars,
but has always fuelled my motivation, to one day reach the stars.
Men took a woman and brought back a monster,
Men took a woman and somehow transformed her,
From a trouble soul to a ruthless imposter,
This is the end of part one,
I was that little girl,
I’m the narrator.


Details | I do not know? | |

loans


You know u got it hard
when ur a single bachelor heart broken with a bachelors
tell your mother in the eye you're considering moving faster, selling weed and coke its a disaster.
This happens in Astoria as the 7 rides by, true story , emotions real, **** the other mans lies.

Its not that i cant make it , just hate to have to prove it.
I got swag for days
mofo dnt make me come to the edge blast it and walk a way like its a peaceful movement 
U dnt know me, neither does my  mirror or the illuminati file
Have no time for puppy love i kick these biches out the bed faster than gile.
babygirl im not a player i just tell you what sounds best its the way i deal with life  
sometimes i pray by being depressed, 

no captain save a hoe thats just a crazy dedication you boys are devadasi lovers thats just the iceburg devastation 
So much pain in the world and  we need more liberals in Liberia Sometimes hurt people hurt people so we left to Monroe and taught  what we learned from those people 

This isnt the west point im talking bout the real west point the slum of the world where we get no worse and have no point , to live or to die just to live die when a grown man cries.
 
we come to  a point where its not biggie or 2 pac but we take a big look to the pot where aids getting busy , drinking blood from the body , same as the first , death is a lie,believe it or not. Aids is out to attack every women needs a man, every hand is on the shoulder, Mothers did loving, whats the point liberians, she never had money so she started sucking dick, a pretty young women is another mans slave, mother did loving now the pharaoh got aids on her face

In syria shits about to get serious, shutout to the fsa where *****doesn't go our way so farmers and colleges students pick up aks to let metal spray from a triger to a hand made bomb made out of pieces from the ash tray. embreasing death happy as can be, the fastest and shortest drug int the world is dying for your family. Hustling hard to breath at a time where interest has replaced everything including humanity, **** the richs robots have replaced leaders and thats paratly for me to blame cuz i havent prayed properly. He looks at where his interest are and works there. But his heart is dead consciousness is finished 













-+


Details | I do not know? | |

Who am I

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

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

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

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

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


Details | Free verse | |

Loves The Dead

Loves the Dead


My mother loves the
dead she has a curious
fascination with the
dead.

She loves to attend
the funerals of
family members
and even strangers.

My mother is the
first person to call 
and talk endless
about the dead.

Does not matter if
she does not know
these dead people
but she cries tears
of sorrow as if she
does.

If she could be
hired at wakes as a
professional mourner
she would be a
millionaire because
she is very
convincing.

But at the family
funerals she is very
animated. 
My mother is the one
to watch because she says
that she is going to
jump in the coffins of
this cousin or that
aunt or that 
brother-in law or
sister.

My mother loves to
watch the local news
programs for news about the
dearly departed and
then she makes arrangement to
attend the funerals.

Once she took three
Septa buses to attend the funeral
of a little girl who died across
town in North Philly.

Another time she
attended the funeral
of a house itself.
She heard about a
run-down house that
was to be eulogized
and given a funeral
by local community
activists. 
She said the food
was delicious

She is known for doing the hair of
the dead in the family.
I wondered if my
mother missed her
calling by not
working in the
industry.

My mother just loves
the dead she is very
emotional when a
family member dies.
My sister drives her
to the hospital or
the funeral home
because she must
view the dead body. 
She said they look
like they are
asleep.

My mother loves to
talk about the dead 
with one exception
that of her own
mothers’ who died young and
left my mother behind
with her own six children.

Recently with loses
in the family.
My mother is re-living her
mother’s death. 
The wooden brown
coffin and the blue
night gown
and matching blue
shoes and the
painted on red lip
stick.







Details | Rhyme | |

Doe

She scurries through
the forest, moving
here and there

Providing food and
shelter for her fawns
showing them she cares

A while ago
the father left,
upped and disappeared

And now the mother
does both jobs; a
doe, a female deer

Written in Queens, New York -Circa 1994


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 | |

Mom I'm Pregnant

“Mom….   I’m Pregnant!”


From the time I held my baby 
in my arms…
I made a vow to “protect her from all harm.”

She was indeed a wonderful bundle of joy…
And during her life, has been a gift for us to enjoy.

She's been  the focus of much of our attention,
Trying to provide for her 
“timely” correction.

As a father, many thoughts entered my mind…
I wanted to be attentive to her, 
patient and kind.

As she's gone through 
her teenage years…
I thought of what perhaps is a parent’s #1 “fear.”

Then one day... “Mom I’m pregnant” were spoken...
At first, my heart was sad and “broken.”

“I didn’t raise her to be “crazy and wild…”
“How could this happen to a wonderful child?”

I realized that in spite of everything
 parent’s will do.
There’s no telling what their 
children will put them through.

I gave her a hug and all of the
 support  I could give…
Everything she’s been through…
 God will forgive!

With all that has happened in her life…
One day she’ll make someone a wonderful wife!

Dear Lord, please help my daugher to see...
How precious she is to her mother and me!




Entered in the contest; "Mom I'm Pregnant!"
Sponsored by Gwendolen Rix

Key findings
National levels and trends
• In 2006, 750,000 women younger than 20 became pregnant. The pregnancy rate 
was 71.5 pregnancies per 1,000 women aged 15–19.


Details | Rhyme | |

To His Mother

2.03.09

Two women - 
Two women who've lost Him,
Lost Him once and for all.
You - through the pain of childbearing,
I - through cruelties of love...

Two women - 
Two women who've lost Him,
So close and yet so far apart -
So uncompromisingly different
With the very same pain in their hearts...

And even though I may not know You,
Before You I'd stand in deep awe -

You gave me true Hope, always precious -
You gave me the man that I love...


[Dedicated to the Mother of my still beloved A.K...]


Details | I do not know? | |

For my Mother

For a Mother.

 

she left me

with only the thoughts of her embrace to warm me

in frigid mornings of tomorrows yet to come

she left me

with her words of tender truths to shroud me

in the coming evenings of stabbing sleet and hail

she left me

yet she stays forever within me

in my waking dreams

and in my restful thoughts

she stays forever within me

she remains an abiding part

of the love

the pain

the tears

and never shall we be

truly apart

 


Details | Free verse | |

CONVERSATION

her phone call had the desired effect.
like always - it drew blood,
the way she dialed into the neglect of
a lifetime was no re-enactment,
it was all fresh, as if it had just happened.
“you never look at it from my point of view,’
she said, hoping silently to break her,
so that nobody won. love can be like that.
it means nothing unless it’s headed
in your direction -
& she, the wounded child,
exacting her revenge, would maintain
the punishment until that time
when her own child stared back
with the same exacting eyes, silently,
asking, where were you, then?


Details | Narrative | |

SCARCE HARVEST

War World II was raging over this
southern Italian town* spared by a miracle...
a deluge that suddenly occurred: 
a night of blasting sounds, of rising flames 
as American planes bombarded its buildings;
the Nazis fled to occupied Naples.
In the North, the Fascits were executed,
as the Dictator Mussolini himself was. 


The farms could not be furrowed deep and neat,
fear hung over the farmers' shoulders;
and wheat couldn't grow abundantly to make bread,
and brazen women to a distant granary they went, 
risking their lives to grind the wheat kernels;
they were no young men in town, or the older ones
who had gone to war for a concept so deceptive.
Many youngsters and soldiers were kidnapped by the Nazis, 
to be taken to Germany as prisoners of war...who would have 
challenged the Third Reich, or disobeyed?


Old women with handkerchiefs on their heads, weeping loudly
and mourning the tranquil town it once was...so lovely and happy, 
and their cry was too bitter and inconsolable to be hushed;
now, even bread was taken away from them,
damning the cruel Duce, who had betrayed them for vanity...
why did he bring prosperity to Africa, not to Italy?
Why was his ego so manipulated by Hitler's cleverness...
that he could have conquered peoples and lands?


Ruins and dead kindred...a scenery of dread and abomination,
and the lively memory of begonias on their sunny balconies 
brought a sweet nostalgia in an hour of horror and death;
and gathered among the crumbled walls, their rosaries  
recited with graceful whispers, gave them 
the strength and the courage to desperately grieve:
"Peace, o beloved peace, have you overlooked
the kindness of such humble and honorable spirits?
 

Darkness brought the silence they had sought under the glittering skies,
to hide the ugliness of the war in their gloomy shadows,
never to reveal the devastation of their town;
and with the new sun rising, hope would have been 
renewed in the sunrise's lasting glow.
They would have seen those wheat golden kernels 
bend under their heavy weight and bow.... 
and heard themselves saying," Mercy, o mercy
of our righteous God, let prosperity abound...
as the misty rain slowly comes down!"   

Southern Italian Town:  Baiano

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Ballad | |

Woeman

I like you, a women of many colors of love,  I am many 

things, not just one, two but I am a women mentor

I am a mother, aunt, cousin, I am not perfect you

have so many things to pick to hate me pick a couple

things your so picky, I believe in a creator, also

I love him and them for many reasons, you are a bigot

that hates even the stars in the sky and sun and moon.

So What.


Details | Ballad | |

Woeman

I like you, a women of many colors of love,  I am many 

things, not just one, two but I am a women mentor

I am a mother, aunt, cousin, I am not perfect you

have so many things to pick to hate me pick a couple

things your so picky, I believe in a creator, also

I love him and them for many reasons, you are a bigot

that hates even the stars in the sky and sun and moon.

So What.


Details | Narrative | |

Mother Mary's Motherhood

The Church cannot forget her mission
Was made possible by the Motherhood of Mother Mary
Who conceived and bore a Son
Who is God from Eternal God
True Eternal God from True Eternal God

Mother Mary is truly the Mother of God
Whose motherhood as the vocation to motherhood
Bestowed by Eternal God on every man raised to its highest level
Thus, Mother Mary becomes the mother of the Church and to be New Mama Eve
The mother of believers, the mother of the living

4202013


Details | Narrative | |

Morning Star

Across her village far deep in to the forrest Morning Star found peace and 
contentment. Here away from her village, the young girl enjoyed the daylight 
hours with the sounds and beauty of nature and it's animals. Beyond the forrest 
the mountains held a mystery all their own. Their beauty touched her soul and 
spirit yet they seems so far off to her.Her thoughts wondered what lay over them 
and what new world lay beyond those haunting peaks reaching to the sky.
    Suddenly the early morning was shattered by the sounds of gunfire. With all 
the men gone hunting no one was there to protect the village. Morning Star's 
thoughts were of not only the others in the village but of her mother and baby 
sister, she had to get back to them. Screams of women and children cut through 
the forrest as the scent  of smoke and the sounds of horses grew closer.  
Suddenly the sounds began to fade and only the smell of smoke remained. As 
she stood at the clearing, Morning Star saw what was left of her village. Unable to 
move as her eyes looked across the bodies of women and children laying all 
around. Tears filled her eyes as she walked by so many searching for her 
mother and baby sister, hoping that they had fled to safety. There in the dirt lay 
her mother clutching her baby sister, both dead. How could this have happened? 
How could the soldiers have done this to them?
  Morning Star placed a blanket over her their lifeless bodies and slowly walked 
away. Her life as she knew it was gone, dead along with her mother and baby 
sister. She was the only survivor.  Slowly she walked back into the forrest. Dusk 
was beginning and the forrest would keep her safe for the night. Tomorrow she 
would search for a way up to the mountains, there she would find a path to her 
destiny and what the spirits have chosen for her. She would be the only one to 
tell the story of all who had been lost this day. She would be the only one to keep 
their story alive for generations after this.


Details | Epic | |

Child Support

Child support is a court-ordered rule that makes both the mother and the father pay until
his or her 18th birthday. It seems that when the mother gets full custody of the child or
children, then the divorced father must get a job in order to pay financial support. But t
seems to me that the dads are refusing to give the mothers of their children money because
for one, some of them will have used their past against them, and two, that they're using
their own children for financial gain. But according to the child support laws, the
fathers can't obtain all visitation rights, which it will have allowed them to have seen
their kids unless he pays the full amount to the mother. The ones who have custody of
their children don't have to pay, but the ones who don't have custody of them must pay
child support. Everybody knows that not paying child support is against the law in all 50
states, including Missouri. the dead-beat dads who are planning on not paying child
support or trying to skip on their own children and the mothers will go to jail for 2
years and get a $10,000 fine, and if these men owe the women and the courts a lot of money
in back child support payments, they're in financial trouble. So my suggestion is for all
of the would-be fathers to step up to the plate and help these women raise their children
because all of the mothers in America can't raise their children alone. And if they don't
want to raise children like responsible fathers, then these men shouldn't be real fathers
at all and left these women alone.


Details | Verse | |

A Cheating Farther

My farther could not fulfill a father’s duty 
My farther could only fulfill his own pleasures 
.Women
.Sex 
.Alcohol
 
He couldn't love us the way he loved them
Coming home early hours in the morning
Mother goes silent   whenever he was around 
Wiping away her tears with her soft hands If he ever spoke 
Pretending she has something in her eye 

My farther only loved us 
Well pretended to love us 
Only when he had alcohol
All the other times 
It was those cheap women

Punching 
Kicking 
Abusing our poor mother 
In front of our innocent eyes 

He always used to say I'm going to change
The only change he did was sleeping a different women
He just couldnt live without 
It never accure to him he had a wife and children

A tender age of 6 all this was going on 
I was shocked
Ashamyed 
Embrassed 
It was like someone cast an evil eye on our family
I could'nt talk to anyone 
At home
At school
Or even a family member

I use to always wrote strorys of a farther and son having such a great bond
I always wished those story's were true.


It was like  more my dad went with other women 
The more abuse she received
The more my mother wanted to please him
My mother was a woman from India 
A women from the Asian community
If anyone found out about farther it would be bestay(shameful)

My mother never had a voice to say I’m leaving 
The voice she had was silent 
21 years they've been married 
Years of betrayal made by my farther 
Days and nights of abuse 
The family gathering lying on how much work he does
Moaning how his wife is so lazy
Moaning on how  much we annoy him
Going on and on how great he is.

He couldent bar ethe thought of us leaving 
His family name would be known for scum
But was was the use leaving him 
He was jst going to pick up move away and cheat on another woman 
This is the way I lived with a cheating farther....

Copyright (c)
Jay Singh Thapar

Jay Thapar


Details | I do not know? | |

Nanny hiring Career women

  I want the world, Paris, London and Toyko but I feel a tiny bit of worry that my kids 
will resent me. I also want the family, 3 kids and a white picket fence. A husband whose 
in love with me and the natural feeling of being a stay at home mother. But I know I have 
to draw the line somewhere in this dream of mines because I know how hectic a life of 
Journalism can be and I don't want to be a nanny hiring career women. I fear that my kids 
will be raised by women that they see more than their mother because her job becomes her 
life. I don't want to be a mother who can't spend dinner with her kids because she's 
flying across the world... but wait I love to travel. I want to get the undiscovered 
story, the truth right down to the metal. I want to uncover a mystery so deep that I will 
be forever famous. But I worry that while my heads are in the clouds of big corporations 
and high heels and suits that I will be missed. My husband will kiss another women to 
make up for his wife not spending enough time with him. I don't want to be a nanny hiring 
career women but sometimes I feel conflicted... Maybe I like power. It's always been my 
dream to work at the top. I want to be there for my baby's first steps, and their first 
date and even the small things like the plays they star in. I would hate to miss it 
because to tell you the truth even if they had only one line it would be special to me. 
Wait there it is my answer to everything... I can certainly do both but I will always 
know what's more important... My family.


Details | I do not know? | |

" Drunkin Tears "

She said he wants to take her baby,
   Sitting in the hospital till five am.
Crying her beautiful brown eye's out,
   But doctors would pay no attention.
Doctor's said we couldn't go in,
   They had to keep her over night.
Feeling so heartbroken seeing her ly there,
   Praying to God please let her be alright.
Being so caught up on ecstacy,
   Feeling like there's not much i can do.
Feeling helpless that i can't reach out to you,
   That i couldn't be by your side to protect you.
I told her don't cry,
   She's a good mother he see's.
That the stuff he's put you through,
   The parent you are he can't compete.
We'll fight because what we feel is right,
   Were very strong and still surviving.
We love and we love with all our hearts,
   We see a problem were quick to recognize it.
We've been through hell and back,
   But us women will never give up.
Cause well fight now and we will later,
  That's why for us women we have respect and love.
No mama no one said it was easy,
   An angel fell out of the sky and named her Elizabeth.
Blessed her with so many talent's,
   Giving her unconditional love within.
A rare and beautiful blessing,
   A women who's corazon is as golden as heavens gates.
A women who would give to the whole world,
   And not ask to give back what she gives or takes.
An independant  strong surviving mother of more then five,
   Who can touch your heart with just a lullaby.

Sharing the world to make sure your ok,
   Was that shoulder for anyone to cry.
Lent her sympethetic ear to listen,
   Craves to better everyone around.
Successful in everything she does,
  Today on that day my angel was found.


Details | I do not know? | |

Black Angel

She is my angel 
my comfort 
my support
my guide

She sits on a golden curb
Her cheeks held by two delicate hands
A light radiates her from behind
making her holy wings,
glow, and shine
Her wings stretch wide, 
free, and light
Helping to express her voluptuous figure,
She has round hips,
full, chocolate rose lips,
and a bust that holds the nature of motherhood

She is my angel
my happiness
my joy
my pride

Her smooth blackberry legs
dangle in the breeze
Golden rings, circle her wrists,
humming the angels song as they hit 
Fingernails of peach,
defining her uniqueness,
Her hair pulled into an afro puff,
showing she never forget who she was,
as a women,
a black women

She is my angel
my elegance
my beauty
my charm

Thin cotton white fabric drapes over her
The arches of her flawlessness covered,
exaggerating her purity
She moves with grace
to the melody of a child’s laughter,
Sparkling white teeth show themselves
as she smiles,
loving life
and all that she gives to it

She is my angel
my strength
my wisdom
my courage

Her eyes bright, 
calm, and focused
Watching life, as it passes so quickly below,
Her heart does’t not cry
for the broken,
Her soul does not give way
to desires,
Her mind does not worry
about tomorrow,
because she holds hope
as strong as her prayers,
and as thick as Jesus’ beard

She is my angel
My great grandmother Dagmar
My mother
My aunts
The women who love children
The women who inspire
The women of faith

She is, my black angel


Details | I do not know? | |

"A Woman Eyes " by Joseph Goodwill

If you take a moment to look deep inside a woman's eyes you can see the 
window to her soul. You can see her joy and her pain; her hopes and her 
dreams.  She may never say a word but her eyes can tell a whole story.  I know 
because I have had the pleasure to know many beautiful and wonderful women 
in my life.  But 6 women changed my life along with Christ.  They were my 
mother, my grandmother, my two aunts, my cousin's wife, and my beautiful wife.  
When I look into their eyes I saw where I came from, where I am now and where I 
am headed.  The man I have become I owe to God.  The way I treat a woman I 
owe to my mother.  A woman is a daughter, a sister, a mother, a wife, and that is 
just for starters.  You can find her at church, you can find her in the community, 
you can find her being a nurse to a child's wounds, and you can find her being a 
rock to her husband when the world is knocking him down.  And after all of that 
she is still a woman in every sense of the word.  I know man is the head of the 
house and God is its foundation but a woman is its CEO;  Chief Everything 
Officer.  My mother is no longer here on earth with me but if I want to see what 
she stood for all I have to do is look into a woman's eyes.  I don't only want to say 
thank you to the women who changed my life but thank you to all women for with 
God and you everything is possible.


Details | Free verse | |

Do you see me?

What do you see when you look at me?
Do you see a lost cause
A hopeless future
Or do you actually see me?, a wounded soul
a child lost in a black pit of emotions swirling around trying to grab onto the right 
one
to either hate or love the women I can not escape from
Saddness I can not share with anyone because they would not understand
They could not understand how this women starves me, not only with my hunger 
but with my body and soul
I hunger for affection, I hunger for her touch, I hunger for her voice
But the most thing of all I hunger for  the women that I use to know
Who use to look at me like I was the last drop of heaven left
But now looks at me like I have fallen from the grace god
Where did this women go
Why did she leave me to be replaced by a women who's heart is hard as stone