Jannie Breedt | + Follow Poet |
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Dying Mother

-  Dying Mother-            
Perched on her stool but getting there
Angry at paper that just does not care
Onion unlayered in the last of her skin
Paper be angry, paper be thin
Blotched and embattled, unwashed and pajamaed, the bladder goes dry on the floor Not telling her why, two teeth left in a mushy jaw
I am still alive but who knows what for
Walking swollen ,chapped and scaled , stuck like Mother goose 
Hearing goes harder than misunderstood
Drinks from the vine the everyday bottles ghost from the past
Wherever i am going I am getting there fast
Will they buy my a casket, or burn me with gas
There's comma 'tween now and forever and a hyphen just before hell
The nothing hereafter gets as good as it gets

Copyright © Jannie Breedt | Year Posted 2016

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Patricia Cresswell Date: 9/7/2017 6:49:00 AM You paint a very sad and depressing portrait. Well crafted but sad. Login to Reply Jannie Breedt Date: 1/4/2018 2:46:00 PM Another belated thanks. Yes when I read this I still aee her sitting there on a little stool in the kitchen...

Jan Allison Date: 7/1/2017 3:48:00 PM such deep sad imagery Jannie and I can see these things happening with my own mother whose mental health is now deteriorating - she hates not being the person she once was - I get quite emotional when i'm with her and think we are closer now than ever before and I dread the day she is no longer part of my life:-( hugs jan xx Login to Reply Jannie Breedt Date: 7/2/2017 1:43:00 AM Hi Jan. This sunday morning listening to solemn music your coent hit a bulls eye in my psyche. You are also constantly on my mind and I realise your situation. What a priviledge to have been there though. You are such a good person . All of this will one day find you in good stead love J

Punnia Viswan Bhatia Date: 1/5/2017 10:24:00 PM Nice read! Login to Reply Jannie Breedt Date: 7/2/2017 1:40:00 AM Thank you . Sorry I forgot your name. Appreciate the thought

CayCay Jennings Date: 10/27/2016 10:07:00 AM I still have my Mom, but at 80 she is not the woman who raised me, but still my love, heart and best friend. For me it was Daddy (posted a poem yesterday about him.) I am a bit confused by the switch from 3rd to 1st person, but still got the emotional 'gist', felt it and enjoyed the creativity in each line ... CayCay Login to Reply CayCay Jennings Date: 10/27/2016 2:11:00 PM We all have blockages to overcome and can find most of them in the mirror. You seem to find me confident and, yet, I am the opposite (Daddy issues). I have been here since 8-15 trying to determine if I am good at the one thing I've held on to as my only talent since I was 12. I could say more, but you get it and now understand how much your comments meant to me. I'm here to help sock any block ..just holler Jannie Breedt Date: 10/27/2016 1:18:00 PM I noticed your loss . Thing is one misses the most is their voice... if only i had recorded her bit i was non compus mentos. Your tip about theae forms is well taken coming from you I have some blockage though. Got to beat it I suppose.

Kelly Deschler Date: 10/2/2016 8:14:00 PM Losing our mother is probably the hardest loss we have to take in this life. The pain eases in time, but never completely goes away... I'm glad my mother is still with me and we can share as much time together as we possibly can... Your poem is deep and soulful. We can feel your pain coming through in this one. Well written, Jannie. Login to Reply Jannie Breedt Date: 10/3/2016 4:28:00 AM Thank you so much for your acute observation and empathy. Yes the loss is a black hole