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Tribute Mother Poems | Tribute Poems About Mother

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mother Teresa and I

Mother Teresa
She is the mother of every poor people, injured people, ordinary people...

Always we remember the great news
'Mother Teresa will get the Nobel Peace Prize.'
It was one of the best moment in our life...

She lived in our city Kolkata (Calcutta) .
She ate our Bengali foods.
She loved us so much...

One day, I was twelve years old
I met  her at Mother House along with my parents.
I looked at her heavenly eyes.
I touched her sacred feet and hands.
I heard her divine speeches.
I love her innocent smile.

I told her only the sentences, 
'You are the mother of the world, 
Mother of my parents.
So you are my grandmother.'

My father hesitated. My mother was silent.

Mother Teresa said to me with smile, 
'GOD BLESS YOU MY SON'

Today my eyes are full of tears
Mother, I miss you. 
I love you so much....


SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA



(Mother Teresa founded the Missionaries of Charity, a Roman Catholic religious congregation, which in 2012 consisted of over 4,500 sisters and is active in 133 countries. They run hospices and homes for people with HIV/AIDS, leprosy and tuberculosis; soup kitchens; dispensaries and mobile clinics; children's and family counselling programmes; orphanages; and schools. Members of the institute must adhere to the vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, and the fourth vow, to give "wholehearted free service to the poorest of the poor".

Mother Teresa was the recipient of numerous honours including the 1979 Nobel Peace Prize. In 2003, she was beatified as "Blessed Teresa of Calcutta". A second miracle credited to her intercession is required before she can be recognised as a saint by the Catholic Church.)


Details | Prose | |

For Mama and Kayla- Falling into His Arms

I have several poems up about my Mama, Angel Manassian. Mama died on March 19, 2000 at the age of 74. She battled with MS for most of her life. She had me at 41...a surprise!

Turns out, Mama had MS even before she and dad got married, and she didn't know it. My childhood in Iran was the best. We lived in a big compound and had lots of fruit trees, a pool, and wonderful weather to enjoy it all. In winter it snowed. My brothers would jump down from the roof of the house into the snow. In summer, we'd swim all day. Mama taught language at the school Dad was principal of. Ignorance IS bliss. I didn't know Mama was sick. She burned herself once. Really badly. Needed skin grafts....I still didn't know. We moved to Lebanon. 

During my early teen years, I had to come to grips with the fact that Mama was sick....Mama would fall, Mama would get stitches...Mama would burn her face. It scared me. It scared me because I saw Mama getting worse....She'd need help walking, then there was the walker, then there was the wheelchair. Oh...I can't go too much into this...the bruises, the choking fits, the catheters, the slurred speech, the crooked smiles....It broke me. Through it all, Mama tried to give us a semblance of normalcy. She'd smile after every fall...She'd smile to hide the pain; I'd cry to relieve the pain.

My Mama was a brave, caring, kind woman. She was well loved by her students, and she instilled in me a love for words, for singing, and a belief in my abilities. I watched a video on youtube today that reminded me of her and made me cry...again...for the woman who is no longer with me.  This video is so powerful.....It's about a young girl's battle with MS. She is an accomplished runner, but after every race...something incredible happens.

This one is for my Mama and in honor of Kayla.  Watch if you have a spare minute..... Mama finished her race. She had a firm belief in the goodness of God and in the saving power of Jesus. She was an ideal pastor's wife and a fervent prayer warrior. She could say with Paul, " I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 8 Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing."
(2 Timothy 4: 7 & 8) I believe with all my heart that one day my Mama will be whole...body and spirit. You make of that what you want, but I believe she will be awarded eternal life one day. 

Here is the story of Kayla:

http://fbshare.sfglobe.com/2014/11/24/coach-catches-teenage-runner-with-multiple-sclerosis-during-every-race/?src=share_fb_new_20016 

It had me in tears....I hope she finds the inner strength to keep running for as long as she can....Bless God for people in whose arms we can fall....



Details | Rhyme | |

A Rose with no Thorn

A Rose with No Thorn

In the Garden, the bouquet of life
There bloomed a rose whose beauty caught my eye
Incomparable is this rose’s design
Unlike the others, she is not the prickling kind

I know they say that every rose has its thorn
But here blooms the exception, of the spirit she is born
One of a kind, the rarest in form
For she is a rose with no thorn

Oh what a fragrance, so lovely and fair
A scent of sincerity sweeps through the air
A pristine beauty from the realms up above
For she is the flower primeval of love

And as I bask in her blossoms of compassion
I find I am fashioned by love that’s everlasting
And in my heart she’ll always be adorned
For she is a rose with no thorn

Though weeds, thorns and thistles have tried to choke her
The rain has wet her; the sun has even scorched her
But she’ll not wither, neither will she wilt
For she is rooted in the love that God has tilled

Amidst great turmoil, never to be foiled
Arrayed in glory that could never ever toil
One of a kind, yes the rarest in form
For she is a rose with no thorn



Copyright2008 by Kenneth J Thompson


Details | Elegy | |

ELEGY TO LOST CHILD

                                        Elegy to Child Lost


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Victoria Anderson-Throop ©


Details | Epitaph | |

The Unknown Soldier

I stand at your grave.
I do not know your name.
I know not where you are from.
Where you fought,
nor where you died.

The horrors and pain you suffered,
were not in vain.
The death and destruction brought you pain.

I weep at your grave,
for the life you gave.
I weep for the Mother,
that gave you that life.

I kneel before your grave.
I bow my head in gratitude to you,
The Unknown Soldier.
Forever Remembered.


Details | Free verse | |

Grandma

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

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

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

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


Details | Narrative | |

Healing Words

My mother, my grandmother before has always held a place in my heart.
My father, and my grandfather before has the same part.
I was young and very active with unwillingness to listen fully to what they had to say.
I had a problem, never could be solved without my parents and grandparents till today.
With patience they all come to my aid when I fall on my face.
With little dishonor I listen to them and what they had to say, I embrace.
Over the years I go to them with no doubt a feeling of no dismay.
Over the years I go to them and they help me solve problems that to me is O.K.
Now I am getting a bit more aware of what had happen to me when I was growing.
Now I remember how the ride was in my beginning: it was a trial of not knowing.
With the guided words of my parents and grandparents I survive through them all.
With it some being a problem that I remember I recall.
My mother and my grandmother always said to be patient and it will be easy to solve.
My father and my grandfather always knew that I would grow and evolve.
I could wonder everyday what if my parents and grandparents was not in my life.
I could just think that would be fatal like a stab with a knife.
With knowledge that they had past on to me of what they had experience.
With their proof of teachings they had past on to me is their self existence.
Over the years I grew with life so full of happiness that was because of my families love.
Over the years it showed me the path that led me to all the above.
Now cherish those words that help me through my troubles in my new family.
Now I listen to my parents healing words of wisdom and except them gladly.


Details | Ode | |

My Mom, My Rock

You have always been my rock
when all else has seemed to fail!

I thank you from the utmost depth
of my being for being a supportive,
listening ear when I didn't deserve
it, realism in the face of fickleness,
truth when it seemed as if there
was none to be found, and
Above all-----

The strength I needed to recognize
there are unresolved issues and
problems within my own life.

I love you with all of my heart
and appreciate your daily,
selfless sacrifices.

I owe you my life and promise
I will do better and be all
I can be within reason!

Love Always, Julie

c2013 Julie Rasley


Details | Rhyme | |

A Strong Woman

A strong woman doesn’t have to have the body that only society wants.
A strong woman doesn’t have to run a marathon.
A strong woman doesn’t have to wear a size zero.
A strong woman doesn’t have to have marvelous muscular masculine legs.
A strong woman doesn’t have to bike up a mountain.
A strong woman doesn’t have to work out for hours to make her tough.

A strong woman has the look of confidence written across her face.
A strong woman still stands tall when she is full of sorrow.
A strong woman does everything at a steady pace.
A strong woman won’t be afraid.
A strong woman keeps her head held high.
A strong wouldn’t care about what she weighed.
A strong woman never gives up.
A strong woman through hard times.
A strong woman is always tough.

Working long hours to make money,
She still makes time to ask,
“How was your day, honey?”
Instead of having a tall, strong stance,
She goes crazy
And she does the Carlton Dance.

She will turn your frown
Upside down.
She will always be there to help you-
For everything you go through.
She will have that shoulder to cry on.
Always- dusk until dawn.

She gives you the clothes on your back.
She gives you the food in your stomach.
She gives you the shelter above your head.
Even when she’s hanging by a thread.

You may say your super-hero is Spiderman…
Batman…
Or Superman…
But my hero is my mom…
Because my mom is a strong woman.


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 | List | |

Rules in the eyes of a toddler

If it is off, I must turn it on.
If it is on, I must turn it off.
If it is folded, I must unfold it.
If it is a liquid, it must be shaken, then spilled.
If it a solid, it must be crumbled, chewed, stepped on or smeared.
If it is high, it must be reached.
If it is shelved, it must be unshelved.
If it is pointed, it must be run with at top speed.
If it has leaves, they must be picked.
If it is plugged, it must be unplugged.
If it is not trash, it must be thrown away.
If it is in the trash, it must be removed, inspected, and thrown on the floor.
If it is closed, it must be opened.
If it does not open, it must be screamed at.
If it has drawers, they must be rifled.
If it is a pencil, it must write on the refrigerator, monitor, or table.
If it is full, it will be more interesting emptied.
If it is empty, it will be more interesting full.
If it is a pile of dirt, it must be laid upon.
If it is stroller, it must under no circumstances be ridden in without protest. It must be pushed by me instead.
If it has a flat surface, it must be banged upon.
If Mommy's hands are full, I must be carried.
If Mommy is in a hurry and wants to carry me, I must walk alone.
If it is paper, it must be torn.
If it has buttons, they must be pressed.
If the volume is low, it must go high.
If it is toilet paper, it must be unrolled on the floor.
If it is a drawer, it must be pulled upon.
If it is a toothbrush, it must be inserted into my mouth.
If it has a faucet, it must be turned on at full force.
If it is a phone, I must talk to it.
If it is a bug, it must be swallowed.
If it doesn't stay on my spoon, it must be dropped on the floor.
If it is not food, it must be tasted.
If it IS food, it must not be tasted.
If it is dry, it must be made wet with drool, milk, or toilet water.
If it is a car seat, it must be protested with arched back.
If it is Mommy, must make her dirty
If it is sibling, must slap,kick,and fight.
If it has four legs, must squeeze tight until makes noise
If big person is on phone, must make lots of noise
If tv is not on cartoons, scream until they are
If food is not good, throw it, refuse to eat it and cry until big people give you something good


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 | Epitaph | |

garden mother

She was a loving gardner growing four boys, she was called home by God when her love had taken root, now she is a gardener for His flowers.


Details | Pastoral | |

I pray for mother

   I pray for mother 
 
	Mother!	
You could have stayed
Forever was my longing
Oh mother!
Does it really have to be you?
Mothers are too special to lose

You gave me life mother
You raised me into a man I am today
I will forever be grateful to you
Out of nothing, you gave me food
Out of nothing, you clothed me
Out of nothing, you sent me to school
Oh mother!
You were the best


In your shadow I had shade
You called me Father.
For I carried grandfather’s name
Now I understand how special I was to you
You felt grandfather in me
Who will ever call me that again?
I forbid my thoughts to go deep
For the deeper it goes, the deeper it hurts

I can still hear your voice mother
I can still see you in my dreams
You left without saying good-bye,
Were you mad at me mother?
Deep in my heart, you will always have a home
My sisters and brothers are heartbroken
They are all grown up 
But they still need you Mother

Do you still remember your grandchildren?
The youngest is not yet a year old
She will never see your beautiful smile mother
You could have waited
So she does something for you
Fetch water or call you grandmother	

We all miss you mother
It’s hard to know you are never coming back
One after another
We will join you mother
We are not afraid of death any more
For we have a place with you
God almighty will meet us someday
Then I will see you for myself again
We will talk and laugh
Just like we used too

Now you live in a far away land
We can’t change that, not even God almighty
I will teach my heart to live without you mother
Though it is hard
I will learn to miss you
I will learn to live without you
But I will never forget you
It’s the body I will never see


Your time is gone Mother
Now you live in a new world
There you will never grow old
There you will never die
I have peace in my heart
For I am reconciled by God’s mercy
My father in heaven comforted me
Now I know you are happy there
The pain I felt
The pain that tortured me
Will never torment me again
You departed with all my tears
With all my strength
With all my hope
And with all my faith
But God gave me a thousand reasons to smile
In am now back on track

Rest in peace dear mother,
It was the will of God
Who am I to question him?
I never did when you were given to me
And somehow I knew this day will come
Let his name be exalted
We meet again Mother
This I know.


Details | Light Poetry | |

My mother

Her Father and brother appear smaller and smaller
through the tear blurred back window of the Austin A40
the separation of Mother and Father was for her good...

so they said.

The memory scars the heart
dulls the feminine senses.

These graves in the mind
bring her strength of soul.

The wisdom of her times
are transferred by affection and not words of advice.

Her flowered kitchen apron
expresses her love and mind.

Her faith in Christ: her strength yet purpose 
are preached by wordless sermonettes.

This is a life that reaches 
deep into the unreachable .

No fuss
But chivalrous.


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 | Prose Poetry | |

Mom

I love you with all my heart we will never be worlds apart

If by chance you went away

Please just trust in what i say

Your in my heart each and everyday

My love for you will always stay and it will never sway

Even if time stood still my love for you never will

You are my hero I must admit and that I will not forget

You held my hand when I was in pain and it was not in vein

I could not ask for more

Your the reason I was born...


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Hera

Hera precious, gorgeous queen of splendor,
of mighty Ares,and Enyo,the mother,
to thee I write my gratitude and thanks
for all thy blessings showered upon my head.
Thine is the pomegranate and the diadem,
with which you rule all worlds and human lands,
with magnanimous mercy and charity.
of rainbow colors dressed divine thou art,
the sunny smiling matron of the arts,
Thou,queen, who favorest the pure of heart.


Details | Acrostic | |

Mother

MOTHER

Mother is the light of every home
Overflowing care
Thoughtful 
Heart full of compassion
Empowers us with her unconditional love
Responsible and hardworking


Details | Rhyme | |

A Poem for Mama

A Poem for Mama

Gnarled hands that caressed a dozen face,
Wrinkled eyes of aging, a woman full of grace.
Through thick and thin, she stood by me,
Lucky and grateful, ‘til death I will be.

When I was younger, she would say,
“build your dreams, never fall astray”.
Those words she uttered, I pondered thoroughly,
The principles she taught, I followed faithfully.

I tumbled, I stumbled, as years went on,
She never left me, from dusk ‘til dawn.
My teenage struggles, the heartbreak it brought,
Instead of judging, my feelings she thought.

Sooner I recovered, I matured, I grew,
In her arms I mended, all bitterness I threw.
She made me realize, that love is not life,
Beyond relationships, true happiness rife.

Now I’m full-grown, by myself I can rise,
Due to her guidance, I’m prudent and wise.
My mother, my hero, can’t compare you to the rest,
It’s true what they say, that mother knows best.


Details | Ballade | |

Sad girl rising


Sad girl rising

Let me tell you about this girl I know
My cousin, this girl be
Her life has been so very sad
But how wonderful is she
She was a wild child, till she married
And had her first born child
When she found out that his brain was damaged
It really drove her wild.

She took the Doctor through the courts
Then fought for ten long years
To get the money she deserved
And she cried so many tears
She gained a million pound at last
To help her with the lad
And yet the damage it was done
And it really drove her mad.

Her and her hubby cared for he
And gave their lives to him
It was a twenty four, seven job
But at times it got real grim
She would do just anything
To make his life more sweet
But when she got that Parkinson’s
She was close on to defeat

But no, she struggled with the odds
And though it’s ten years on
Never does this girl give up
When all her hope seems gone
She smiles, and carries on with courage
Like I’ve never seen before
She’s something kind of wonderful
She’s a hero, that’s for sure.

30 July 2o13 @ 1043hrs.


Details | Couplet | |

Happy Mother's Days

A mother's holiday should be everyday,
To show you the thanks I wish to repay. 

A million word poem could never consist,
Of all that you do - a lifetime of lists. 

So Ill keep it short - a miniature report.
To convey my gratitude for all your support. 

Preparing this thank-you, builds tears in my eyes.
The bulletproof bond we share never dies. 
 
Countless memories we've made as a pair,
Has given me more than I can compare

Your lessons of chivalry I've cherished so dear.
You've molded my heart to love with no fear. 

Your lullaby songs that put me to sleep,
Created a herd of infinite sheep. 

Happy Mother's Day Mom, I hope you enjoy.
Much love from your son, your grown baby boy. 

- Yours Truly


Details | Verse | |

A MISSED POEM

I meant to tell about my travelling aboard.
Of my visit to West Africa
For genealogy purpose, I wanted to see my great grandfather homeland.
He was from Guinea.
He loved dance and drumming.

I submit this missed poem!

Lenny was polyrhythm.
He loved his total body dance.
He beat his drum to articulate his movements.
His Sub-Saharan music traditions were practice.
The Hills of Mississippi is where he meaningfully existed.
His life formed many cultures there.
Wolfe’s Plantation is where he lived.

I submit this missed poem.
To a competition, I am entering.

Emma was his wife and a short woman to Lenny’s height that reached over six feet.
They married when she was only sixteen.
Emma gave birth to five children.
Their names are Donnie, Mae Emma, Jeb, Lenny, and Coleen.
Emma was the teacher of The Wolfe’s Plantation.
Through her wisdom and knowledge, she departed education.

A missed poem is written to enter a contest that overlooked my thoughts.
Once called “A Tribute to Guinea, West Africa,” is now entered as “A Missed Poem.”
This is part of the original…

The love of my great grandparents brings me here.
To Guinea, West Africa, I pay tribute.
Their culture in dance and drumming is our heritage.
My great grandfather family is from that history.
West African slaves to European’s whites of Eastern Hemisphere.
United States of America is where they lived.
Lenny’s parents stayed true to the tradition.
He danced to the polyrhythms.
_____________________________________\
Motif: Heritage/Family/Origin/Mixed Blood/Contest Name	
~Please read About This Poem~


Details | Ballade | |

The soul of the Crab

The soul of the crab

Oh how she hides behind that shell
Lets no one see her feelings
She’s practical in everything
But those feelings have her reeling
She’s sensitive, and hurt easy
And her moods they be so many
And yet she has not one bad bone
Malice, she has not any.

She be the one for queen and country
Digs into history
She’s always loyal to her kin
She loves her family
She’ll protect them with her life
Don’t no one touch her man!!!
She has a brilliant memory
And she’ll get you when she can.

Her mother, she loves very much
But her children more than that
Wherever there be family
That’s where she would be at
And how she loves to entertain
And cook delicious food
And always she will be a mother
In her heart will be her brood

9 August 2013 @ 2000hrs.


Details | Villanelle | |

Threshold-s- Hail Thee

Threshold(s) Hail thee

The path that delivers I will elevate;
For the life that lives deserves whole eternal,
In the place of rest that saints will dominate.

The many battles fought to safeguard a trait,
To let a brood with no lore of nominal.
The path that delivers I must elevate.

Not she rests assured by nature’s salvage date.
This life yet renders bosoms for cardinal:
To nourish…, enrich this trait to dominate.

From ‘yes’ I breathe to still ‘no’ I defecate.
These, I owe house of notional tribunal.
For that life’s deliverance I will elevate.

Progenies I, owe this life that promulgate
News of me to flora and fauna’s astral.
I owe this life for those gifts to dominate.

Nerve not she got, to stand tests to procreate
Won’t my lines have been thrown in lone nocturnal?
This path that delivers I will elevate,
To the place of rest that saints will dominate.

©A.O, 4/4/2014.
Dedicated to my mother and my father. And parents alike.


Details | Rhyme | |

Desert Floor

As I look out upon the desert floor, its beauty I espy.
A lizard awaits the sun to land for its’ sunning to apply.
A mother quail runs from her hole with 7 chicks in tow.
A comedy of running feet, they are found rarely still at all.

A mother dove nests high above, in a saguaro nestled deep.
A cactus wren finds fruit up high, from a cactus she will eat.
A hawk soars high above it all, seeking a breakfast to enjoy.
As fruit trees abound in every yard, amid varied colored stones.

Geese find lakes and golf course ponds with only minor flights.
But don’t forget the smaller things that crawl within the night
The occasional snake will rear its head to look around or bite.
But in cities they are rare, preferring desert solitude and quiet.

You best be quick or miss it all, no other choice there is, I insert.
We’re not alone within these lands of desert sands and dirt.
In a place most think lost, with no more than destitute emptiness,
Is a place where people and migrating birds seek to live with cactus.

And don’t forget the forests high; with wildlife found that’s rather large.
Where bears and pumas dance each day in some one’s great backyard.
Far away a coyote runs a jackrabbit deep into the hidden earth.
As armadillos move along before found, in the daily heats rebirth.

Don’t be silly some will say… it’s only sand, and dirt, and heat.
But I know it comes with great abundance and multitudes complete.
There are those who know the truth, like you, and of course like me.
Who each day find life, and beautiful sunsets in its magical relief’s.


Details | Free verse | |

The Gracious Woman II

The gracious woman grows through her own self-reflection
Everything she goes through in life is a lesson
Her beauty is of essence such as her presence
Full of integrity, compassion, and optimistic guessing
The courage that she brings
Screams a strong woman destined
With the passion of a soldier at war
She is honorable, respectful, worthy and more
Qualities that must be adored


Details | Free verse | |

Life Can Be Cruel

I cannot get into heaven
God I have tried!
Suicide is a double edge sword
Especially when you survive!
Walking the streets at night
Dazed and confused
Longing to be loved
Wondering...
When is Mum, coming for me?

"Does she still love me?"
"Does she still care?"
"Does she still think of me?"
"Does she wonder, where I am?"

I want her to come find me
I want her to say she 'loves me’
I want her to comfort me
I want her to take me home
And keep me safe
And not forget hat I exist
Like the way she treats me now

I wish God 
Could make my Mum
Magically appear
Making this hellish nightmare
On the street
Disappear!

“Send my Mum please!”
So, all this can end!
Before this last ray of hope
Diminishes for good!

I don’t want to become
The walking dead
Forever forgotten as if 
I was never born!
For this is the cruel, harsh reality
Of living life, feeling unloved
Uncared for, abandoned,
Left to fend for my own

A dangerous killer inside me
Eating away, at my soul
Something, no one can see
As I suffer in silence
My insides crippling!

Lost, alone and frightened
Weeping on a dirty
Graffiti park bench
Dirty tears
Rolling down my cheeks
Stuffing newspapers under my jumper
To keep myself warm

“What am I going to do?”

“Will I make it through the night?”
“Will I get raped and beaten?”
"Will I be left for dead?”
“Will I survive
To see another day?

“Is my life worth living?”

Please God, I beg of you
Have mercy now
Please show me the way!


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 | Verse | |

A call for mom

Ma, ma, help Please,
Can you give me love? 
Hold me, hold me, 
Very tight; 
A smile for my heart,  
And one from the start,
Give a hug to show me love. 
That is why your mom.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Box of Hope and Dreams

I keep my dreams and aspirations,
stored away neatly in this box.
Tied off with a pretty pink ribbon,
secured tightly with key and lock.

And every time I feel like a failure,
I open it, so I can again feel alive.
Arms of dreams tightly surround me,
giving me strength I need to survive.

I’ve hidden this box in a secret place,
where I’m the only who can see.
A beautiful box of hopes and dreams,
finely sewn with love at the seams.

This box is opened quite frequently,
especially when we’re apart –
this rhetorical box of memories,
in perfect synch with each beat of my heart


Details | Rhyme | |

If You Were

If you were a penny, I’d keep you in my front pocket every day.
I’d shine and cleanse you daily, washing all troubles and woes away.
If you were a diamond ring, on my finger is where you’d stay.
I’d shine the stone feverishly, parting all frets and worries astray.

If you were a novel, I’d place you at the very front of the shelf,
I’d tear out the pages of misery, and swallow the depression myself.
If you were as free as a butterfly, I’d cup you within my hands.
I’d whisper all my secrets, then release you from all commands.

If you were a painting, I’d pose you directly over so all could see,
I’d dust away the tears and guilt, inhaling the particles inside of me.
If you were a bronze statue, I would polish you until you shined.
I’d scour away the torment, and any melancholy I should find.

If you were a flower, I’d pluck the petals of bane from your life,
I’d water and feed you frequently, nourishing the roots of strife.
If you were an eagle, I’d admire your rare beauty from above,
I’d watch you slowly soar into the horizon, taking with you,
my heart, my soul and love.


Details | Rhyme | |

Oku Sunkun Oku

In the spirit of the loss of a comrade (friend outside PS),
who kicked the bucket on 20th of this month,
coupled with the news about the death of Linda's (Pd) mother,
revealed by SKAT via her blog of 29th of the same month,
I sincerely surrender my pen to mourn the dead.
_______________________________________

WE MOURN OURSELVES

With no knowledge of that day
That God would call your name
Your sojourn with us we cherished
On your departure we did the same

Our heart tore when we lost you
You didn’t go home all alone
For part of us went with you
From the moment God called you home

You left us blissful memories
Your kindness and love remains our guide
There you’re, we can’t see you
But you’re always on our mind

This world you came alone
And this and us you left behind
For the next world we know
Would leave none of us behind

Your chain of friendship was broken
From the day God called you home
The gist, the grins, the cheers… are no more 
Left with you are your deeds in that new home

Your rope of kinship was severed
And things seized to seem the same
But when God takes us one by one
Our rope would tie and we’d all have a name 

________________________________________
   
I mourned with we the living and the dead
I believe we live to die
On the ground that death is inevitable.
 


Details | I do not know? | |

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

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


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

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

does Allah not recoil in horror,

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

Where is the indignation,

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

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

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

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

where are those voices when the enemy walks amongst them.

14 year old Malala Yousafzai was shot in cold blood,

her crime?

Advocating the rights of girls to an education.

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

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

Shame on me,
for my inaction,

Shame on us all,
who proclaim lofty ideals,

yet are conspicuously silent,

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

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

Not in my name!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yet I fear,

that I shall write more of this,

unless we stand up and say 'no more',

I fear that I shall be writing this again,

until we all,

reclaim the true principles of humaneness,

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

I fear I shall be writing this again,

and,

until the muck-ridden bile,
is not excised,

I shall continue to say,

NOT IN MY NAME!

Or else I shall have nothing,

but my unending shame.



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


Details | I do not know? | |

REST IN PEACE MUM ANN BROWN 18 AUG 2011

MUM ...

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


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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR FACE.

THERE IS NO MOTHER ANYWHERE LIKE YOU,

NO ONE COULD TAKE YOUR PLACE.

IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE LEAVING,

I GUESS I EXPECTED YOU TO FOREVER LAST,

ALL OF THE DREAMS OF US IN THE FUTURE,

ARE NOW BUT MEMORIES OF THE PAST.

GOD TAPPED YOU ON THE SHOULDER,

HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW,

THAT YOU WERE GOING WITH HIM,

TO THE SKY SO BEAUTIFUL BLUE.

ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER SEE YOU MUM,

ARJAY WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE,

HE'S GONNA HOLD YOUR HAND,

AND LEAD THE WAY,

FOR HE WILL BE YOUR GUIDE.....

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


Details | Narrative | |

A Two Woman Duo

A Two Woman Duo
 
By Missy Yourist 



I am from the inside of a woman whom I have never met. 
A birth mother who I do not know one ounce of who or what she is about. 
A person who bearably carried me for nine months. 
Gave birth to me, a 3 pound toe-head baby. 
She had to have held me right after, but my baby eyes don't seem to remember. 
Blurred by the brightness of the world, 
I never saw who my birth mother was. 

But after two months, I was passed onto the most beautiful creature 
that my premature eyes had ever seen. 
A woman who would ultimately become my real mother. 
A wonderful being who would raise me with pride. 
Teach me the ways in which she thought we right. 
A mom who would love me with all of her heart and care for me 
for the 14 years that she would be able to share with me.


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 | Rhyme | |

Dedicated to My Amazing Mum

It was in November 2009 when I got the call
To say that you had had a tiny little fall
‘Don’t worry’ said Dad; she will be ok
Oh how I remember so vividly that dreadful day

Dad said it was only a little lump
And into the taxi home they would jump
But it was in the hospital bed that you did lay
And you stayed there for many a long day

We dashed to the hospital and went to the ward
Out of my eyes silent tears poured
Your face so bruised and misshapen
My mum as you once were had been taken

They told us you had two bleeds on your brain
And since then life for us all has never been the same
For over three months you were away
Sometimes I wish you hadn’t made it – a dreadful thing to say

For you now have dementia and are nearly blind
How can a life once so rich and full now be so unkind?
You get so angry and frustrated
Dear old dad gets so berated

Oh how I wish I could turn back time to that day
And stop you from falling and your mind going away
But I am lucky to have my dear old mum
And I cherish the memories when we used to have fun

I am so lucky to still have you both; you really are amazing
Dad looks after you tirelessly and is rarely complaining
I try my best to help out and give him a little break
For I know one day you will be gone and then my heart will ache

I look back on the past and when your life was so full
Talking books now keep you occupied and stop your life being so dull
Writing is one thing enjoyed so much and you can no longer do
You hanker for the past and it really frustrates you

You are 91 years old now and dad is 90 this year
We will hold a little party for him, I hold you both so dear
It makes your day to have friends and family close by
And I will be here for you both until the day you die.


Details | Rhyme | |

two woman one child

Once there were two women who lived different lives..
One I hardly around for me to remember, the other I call my mother.
Two different lives, shaped to make my one...
One was out of reach like a star, the other became bright sun.
The first gave me life and the second taught me how to live it.
The first gave me a need for love, and the second was always there to give it.
One gave me a nationality, the other gave me my nick name.
One gave me a seed of talent, the other gave me an aim.
One gave me emotions, the other calmed my fears.
One heard my first cry, the other dried all my tears.
One gave me up  without a second thought...To selfish to care
The other prayed for my safety and God led me straight to her. I was her Mandy Bear
And now you ask me, As my peer 
the age old question unanswered throughout the years...
Heredity or environment .. Which am I the product of..
Neither, my friend .. neither..
just two different kinds of people...That ended with only ONE LOVE


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 | 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 | Prose Poetry | |

I AM A WOMAN

I walk
I talk
I possess an image
That image
I am the woman

The woman who is 
In absolute possession
Of the courage
As brave as a warriors staff
The woman who knows her rights 
And fights for it
I am the woman
With the “man”

I feel 
I heal
I possess a heart
That heart
I am the woman

The woman with 
An inner child
With an overflowing joy
With no worries bigger
The woman whose gleeing spirit
Brings hope to all
I am the woman
With the “womb”

I make
I create
I possess an art
That art
I am the woman

The woman herself
Stringing together
All pieces of earth
And soothing the broken
The woman whose arms
Wraps those she loves
I am the woman
That woman…

©Naa Takia, All Rights Reserved 2012


Details | Rhyme | |

When I Die

Don't weep for the loss
I've merely swept across
Know that I am here
Always will I be near
In the way you walk
And the way you talk
Thru your words of strife
To guide you thru this life
In your beautiful stare
All the elements in the air
Running thru your veins
And whatever shall remain
Presenting thru your smile
And every lonesome mile
With every beat of your heart
You'll feel we're not apart
With every warming breeze
And the swaying of the trees
Thru your precious laughter
And every moment thereafter
In those mesmerizing eyes
Your mother is still alive
In each and every thought
Enacting what I've taught
Thru the precious moments
And every single torment
Thru every scent you intake
And each and every mistake
Your mother has not died
In your hearts where I reside


Details | Quatrain | |

Safe

It's like a weight lifted off of my heart;
I am no longer torn apart.
Thank God you are safe;
Everything is okay.


Details | I do not know? | |

REST IN PEACE MUM ANN BROWN 18 AUG 2011

MUM ...

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


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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR FACE.

THERE IS NO MOTHER ANYWHERE LIKE YOU,

NO ONE COULD TAKE YOUR PLACE.

IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE LEAVING,

I GUESS I EXPECTED YOU TO FOREVER LAST,

ALL OF THE DREAMS OF US IN THE FUTURE,

ARE NOW BUT MEMORIES OF THE PAST.

GOD TAPPED YOU ON THE SHOULDER,

HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW,

THAT YOU WERE GOING WITH HIM,

TO THE SKY SO BEAUTIFUL BLUE.

ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER SEE YOU MUM,

ARJAY WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE,

HE'S GONNA HOLD YOUR HAND,

AND LEAD THE WAY,

FOR HE WILL BE YOUR GUIDE.....

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


Details | Free verse | |

When

When is he going to understand 
that life is harder than what our eyes can see.
Its work, its pain, its suffering,
Its love, its time, its energy.
When..

When will he know the struggles life brings
When..

When will he feel the love that I feel
the pain that I feel
the anger I feel
When..

When will he learn the responsibility of life.
Its not always easy to provide.
There are times when its much easier to give up.
When..

When will he have children all his own
and learn to take care of them just as I did.
When will he hold me and say
I love you, thank you for all that you've done.
When..

When will he know that it was all done for love.

When my heart beats no more and my body lies still
Will you still love me?
Will you still see me?
Will you wonder why
When you were little why I held your hand so you wouldn't cry.
Why I would kiss you and then smile.

Life is too short to ponder what, when, where and why.
So I leave you this message
So when you are older and wiser
You'll read whats in it
and maybe then you'll understand
just why I did it.


Details | Rhyme | |

Son to Mother

Son to Mother
(A Tribute to Langston Hughes' Mother to Son)

Mama thank you for your wisdom
that you provided since I was in womb.
I am proud to say I’ve become a man 
and on my own two feet tall I stand.

It wasn’t easy, this path I’ve led
being a counter-cultural black man – what so many dread.
But watching you made me strong over the years
and I saw how your walk brought you to tears.

With decent dignity you inspired me
to never accept less than what I should be.
While walking and doing the very best you could,
believing that crystal stairs came after the wood.

And now that I have finally arrived,
it’s because of your courage that I survived.
So for that, mama, I say a job well done;
from your example, I can teach my own son. 


Details | Free verse | |

That's Where The Lord Lives

I walk outside to see all that I can see.
Over there is our house, our home,
In the distance, you can see.
And that place of hallowed happiness
Forever has been our home
And forever will be so evermore.
That house is small but raised us tall,
From the perfect parents who loved us so
To the perfect sister for which every man would want.
The house built us all up strong.
More than a mere building,
It is a place to love and be loved,
A place that hands you hope that you give right back, 
And a place of everlasting faith.
This home is where my parents taught me about God
And opened me up to Jesus.
They opened the eyes of the blind for all to see,
And the blind included me.
They taught me to be the best I can be;
The best things in life are free.
They have taught us so well,
And they all have saved my soul.
Even if I am not there now,
I carry Him with me.
I carry them with me.
I carry Their values and Their teachings with me.
In this house, this home,
We reside.
We cannot forget this.
This is where my Mother lives.
This is where my Father lives.
This is where my Sister lives.
This is where We live,
In this loving, caring, beautiful home
They made just for us.
We cannot forget this either.
This is where it all began. 
This is where the hunger and thirst was created;
This is where we are fulfilled.
We cannot, we must not forget this:
This is where God lives.
This is where Jesus lives.
This is where The Lord lives;
The Father and The Almighty.
This is where We live;
This is where We reside.
We must not forget this.
We must not forget this:
What a beautiful and perfect life this is.


Details | Ballad | |

La Sibylle Blanche du Rhin

La Sibylle Blanche du Rhin La Msytique est la Specatatrice du Divine Elle Parle au mot que je ne comprends pas "Soilel vous deffinissez est mien Pourtant vous, vous laisser il saigner Comme un nouveau vin Triste - ons ne Saurant Jamais Triste - ons ne Verront Jamias" Parle a moi, si prestine La Mystique La Sibylle Blanche du Rhin La Specatatrice du Divine Ton Voix sefane dans Le Chanson entrain de Mourir


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 | Free verse | |

she wonders

She wonders what you’re doing
and how you're living life
what new things did you learn today
and how did you sleep last night
did you feel raindrops on your face
or sunshine in your eye
of all the questions left uknown
the biggest one she has is why
why can’t you be together
why can’t she watch you grow
why can’t she guide you through this world
this she just does not know
but she promises you’ll be together
no matter how long it seems
just know your always in her heart
and always in her dreams

Poem is dedicated to a dear friend of mine 
P.G  Always remember sweetie true love is never lost, you will meet again someday.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Dedication

Inspiration Admiration
you who are my only one true creation.
I write this to you as a dedication.

My life now has purpose
I no longer live on the surface
through you I have gained insight
I now see the light.

Although the tides have been rough,
I can not imagine a life lived without you
It simply would not be enough.

You are Gods greatest gift to me
You are everything I never knew I wanted.
You are my perfect family.
In you I have found sanctuary.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Dance

The Dance

My mother died some time ago
And God took her away,
To begin her dance with Jesus
That continues to this day

She wasn’t her old self that day,
Her memories had flown
He invited mom’s new self to dance,
And the Father took her home

Mom never was a dancer
That I ever heard her claim,
But the steps she does with Jesus
Would put Fred Astaire to shame

Perfect mind in perfect love,
With perfect memory,
As she whirls and twirls with The Lord of the Dance,
And waits with Him for me

My Brother’s up there with her,
I’m sure he cheers her on,
And does a jig or two himself
When Heaven plays the song

My other brother’s with me still,
And our sweet sister too,
The three of us with our dear dad,
Believe all this is true

Mom is up there dancing,
All over Canaan Land,
Perfect in the arms of Jesus,
As He strikes up the band 


Details | Free verse | |

Baby Girl Of Mine

I wrote this to help someone special to me:

I lost my daughter today.
Sadness threatens to overwhelm me.
Grief consumes my every thought.
 
Pain fills my entire body.
The words send a shock to my heart.
My legs fail me as I fall to the floor
Knowing it was to come,
Realizing it is in God’s will,
Nothing makes it easier to deal with.
 
My heart crumbles under the weight
I know all the pieces will never be found.
A wound created that will never heal.
A constant reminder of what is gone.
 
Desire to become a forever family.
Hope of taking away too much pain.
Dreams of her eyes filling with child like joy.
Plans of everyday growing up and learning
All cause to mourn, all things I won't get to again see.
 
I long for the comfort others might have,
Joy her in the arms of someone who truely loves her,
Peace in knowing she is being properly cared for.
The knowledge that we will be together again.
 
I lost my daughter today.
There are no kisses to brighten my soul.
No grave to visit and seek refuge at.
The rest of the world will never notice,
For the daughter I lost was never really mine.
 
She is alive somewhere else 
Not by my choice but by theirs
For it is not I that gets to kiss her good night
I lost my daughter today at yet it is like the world does not care
Really she was more mine than theirs... 
 
I lost my daughter today...
I lost my daughter today...
Don't worry baby girl we will be together ....
someday..!


Details | Free verse | |

My Mothers Doll

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


Details | I do not know? | |

Mom's Cobbler Pies

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


Details | I do not know? | |

SHINING STAR

There is no way you could possibly know,
How wonderful of a person you are.
You have made many hearts glow,
Yes, YOU, are a shining star!
For me you've done everything you possibly can,
And you don't know how much that means.
Whenever I would fall, you lended your hand,
And shined upon me with all of your beams.
You are my star in the sky who brightens each day,
And comforts me throughout each night.
Anytime that I needed you, you went out of your way,
To make sure everything was just right.
However, I let you down, with my mischievious act,
When I should have been helping you out.
It may seem I took you for granted because the maturity I lacked,
But I Love You, without any doubt!
I am thankful that in return you have always loved me,
Reguardless of what I have done.
That is exactly the way a Grandmother should be,
And I have to say you're the BEST one!


Details | Free verse | |

Beloved Mother

I miss your smile
    the giggling sound.

I miss your touch
    the warm embrace.

I miss your smell
    the inevitable fragrance.

I simply miss you.


Details | Rhyme | |

Motherly Love

Honoring your family in service
with a warm welcoming smile, 
a greeting of kindly words
given with grace and style,
is a wonderful gift you share,

One that will be truly cherished
as love ones will remember always
your honest genuine thoughtfulness
in the way you show each of them
just how much you really care,

Special attention offered freely 
in service above and beyond
often rewarded for simple acts
of kindness that truly surpass
every individuals individual need

Personal service sincerely delivered
and guided by the human touch
will always receive the sincerest
love and heartfelt appreciation, 
a special gift of giving indeed

Individual gratitude is a simple
reflection of outstanding service 
rendered when real connections
are made in the way everyone's
expectations you notably exceed


© Eugene Harvey


Details | Rhyme | |

tiny baby

Tiny flutters like tiny unfelt yet kicks
Little baby, a sweet mother’s bliss
A mother who can't wait to give the tiny you
Hugs and lots of kisses too 

I dreamed last night of your tiny face
An angel indeed, made from God’s sweet embrace 
A miracle that has come about 
Ment as a gift from God too daddy and I no doubt

When everyone else thought it would never happen again
When our tear drops were falling like rain 
We got the joyful news that you were due to come 
I could feel my heart beating in my ears like a drum

I know that somehow you can now hear
Oh, what a thrill you will bring us here!
Now hush my baby, it’s time to rest
Inside my womb, your own calm nest

May God help me to keep you safe
And always keep you strong, I pray
I loved you before you were even conceived 
And I love you more now that I have you

love your mommy


Details | Free verse | |

To have and have lost

To have and to have lost is the ultimate pain, 
Knowing that your life will never be the same again. 
That one little missing piece of your jigsaw called life, 
Questions as to what you did to deserve this strife.
Another angel for heaven above 
Empty arms but still the love. 
Never far from your mind 
If only life wasn’t so unkind. 
Little angel I love you so 
Fresh in my thoughts wherever I go. 
xoxo


Details | Rhyme | |

HE WAS THERE

I know that there are some that still can't pray
and others that ask, 'Where was God that day?'
HE was there with each tear that's shed
as the news reported, There is thousands dead!'

HE was in the hyjacked planes so out of control
His angels collecting each passenger's soul!
HE was there at the buildings of the World Trade Center
with Heaven's gates wide open bidding all to enter!

HE was there in every tired body and grimy face
that refused to give in to another trying to take his place!
HE was there amongst every common place hero
who repeatedly dug through the rubble in New York's ground zero!


HE was there with the passenger's of Flight 74
whose sacrifice kept the enemy from the White House door!
HE was there with those that died at the Pentagon
when another plane flew into them like a bomb!

HE was there when thousands of passengers landed
unable to get home, so on Canadian soil they were stranded!
HE was there in the smiles of the Maritime youth
who came with blankets, fresh clothing and hot bowls of soup!

HE was there when the President cried out with pride
'This will only make us stronger, we have GOD on our side!'
HE was there when AMERICA was at Iraq's door
teaching the Taliban what happens when you provoke a war!

HE is there today as countless others reflect on the loss
just as HE watched HIS only Son die upon the cross!  HE WAS THERE!

©11/09/2012


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

Mom, you were the one
I called when I wanted to run
Away when it was too overwhelming to stay 
In your presence I found comfort and acceptance
Willing to listen and help me through the distance 
Now the lessons you taught me will forever glisten 
In my mind, through all my life’s endeavors 
Mom, our times together I will cherish forever


Details | Free verse | |

Makenzie

A new life
birth
the offspring of the Rosonow's
a new form
a new shape
a new girl
a new world
the beauty of a new baby is embraced a new mother's arms
how beautiful she is like a green pasture
she is a pure soul and a clean heart
she is like a star that glistens brightly during the night hours
waiting in the sky to be look upon and loved
laughter
times together
kindness
all in the form of a precious little girl
a new life
a new form
a new shape
a new girl
a new world
open eyes and open hearts


Details | Free verse | |

Babies and Kids Struggles

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


Details | 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 | Prose | |

Our Mother's Love

Grandmother never allowed us to call her “Grandma” or any 
of the other pet names you call your Nana. Mom never cared 
what we called her, as long as we came when she called us. 
She demanded obedience, made us do our chores. She cared 
where we went and what we were doing. She cooked our faves, 
sewed, mended and cleaned. She worked many hours to provide 
for our needs, sacrificing her own needs to insure ours were met.
I never heard her gripe, though her life was difficult. Only two 
kinds of people inhabit our world: Givers and Takers. Most are
takers, who snatch and grab whatever they can. Then there are 
the givers, who put others first. Our mother was a giver. She 
taught us how to live. She taught us how to love.
 


                     


Details | Rhyme | |

Mother

Mother.........

What would I do without you? 
Your love is tried and true. 
No child within this world we live, 
Could have a Mum like you. 

You've always been there for me, 
Even when I did things wrong. 
You dried the tears from my eyes, 
When I was not so strong. 

You nursed me, fed me, clothed me, 
You kept me safe and warm. 
I hope the hurt will soon subside, 
As we're riding through through this storm. 

No matter what may happen, 
You're a Mother best bar none. 
I hope you know I love you so, 
From your ever loving Son. 

...................I love you Mum.........


Details | Rhyme | |

Womb

It was forty-three years ago today when I left your womb.
Your death has brought about tears, despair and gloom.
Usually pregnancies last nine months but you had a longer wait.
You carried me for ten months, I was a month late.
From the day I was born until the day you died, we shared a special bond.
You were always there for me and I'm still unhappy because you're gone.
You didn't deserve to suffer the way you did, what a horrible fate.
The doctors did all they could but you went to the hospital too late.
I didn't know what I had until I lost it and I lost you too soon.
It was forty-three years ago today when I left your womb.

[Dedicated to Agnes Johnson (1948-2013) who gave birth to me 43 years ago today.]


Details | I do not know? | |

Dear, Mother

You were the one that I called to when I was feeling blue or just when I needed you
You were the one to raise me who showed me how to be a lady
You tried to show me who was flaw and who would stay
But when I needed you the most, your gone and are no longer my host
I lost my best friend I also called my mother
Please god watch over me and my little brother
Now I just take a breath and look at the clouds because I know shes always looking down
Watching you staying true and doing you
But I cant help it every now and then I get blue
But you would want me to be happy, so this life I live is all for you


Details | Ode | |

Ode to my Mom

To the giver of my life,
	The bearer of this child,
My protector from strife,
	My guide from going wild.
To the nurse of my aches,
	The suave of my pains,
The baker of my cakes,
	My umbrella from the rains.
To the teacher of my youth,
	The mentor of my mind,
The one who’d soothe my tooth,
	Always fair and kind:

This is my tribute to you,
	An ode to my mom.

Thanks for giving me the strength
	To righten when down.
Thanks for going to any length
	To get rid of my frown.
Thanks for the times we’d just talk
	And you’d be my friend.
Thanks for teaching me to walk,
	And to stand up, in the end.
Thanks for giving me your love
	And taking the time to care.
And when you’re gone to heaven above,
	I’ll always look up and see you there.

This is my tribute to you,	
	I love you, Mom.