Mommy, don't be upset
When they say how you should stand, sit and eat
While I munch on your blood and meat.
Just don't be upset
When they advise you on when I should be fed.
You alone know when my tummy needs bread
Mommy, don't be upset
When they say I was born lean or bulky, dark or fair
And force home remedies and weird aftercare
Just don't be upset
When they judge you for the cuts on your belly
Or the amount of milk generated by your body.
Don't be upset
When they rebuke you for keeping me on diapers
Or nag about your choices right from mittens to rompers.
I know how you guarded me for nine months
Every time I kicked from inside, your heart went nuts
When my poor latching has hurt your nipples,
I felt the wetness of your tears on my nerves.
We ate and slept together
We screamed and sang together
I was in your belly and you were in my blood
To meet each other, we worked as a team and laboured.
Now, who are they to make you feel low?
No, whatever they say doesn't help us grow.
Just don't be upset, Mommy.
We'll do only that, what is best for us!
Categories:
aftercare, birth, judgement, mother,
Form: Rhyme
birth(&)
death(&)
aftercare
the obvious crunch
of a discontented
shell refurbished
in white
gelatinous membrane
to the fire straight (&)
spilled
only not until
all invitations
all announcements
all wills/bills
are made/paid
will the cast-iron skillet
be worn as
a sledge-hammer hat
(dunce) (&)
holy guacamole?
then god’s speed! you
myopic avocado!
(brunch)
Categories:
aftercare, god,
Form: Free verse
Oh, yes, I feel that spring is in the air!
Though winter's letting go with stubborn care,
our spring dissolves new snow, so debonair,
assured that winter knows it cannot share;
of springtime's warmer sun it is aware.
As days are getting longer, we prepare
to welcome spring with spirited fanfare;
clean up the yard while we look everywhere
for waking buds that very soon will bear
new leaves and blossoms and their space declare.
Those varied pastel colors will add flare
to walkways and small gardens as we stare
at long-awaited beauty...springtime's prayer;
her new rebirth as winter's aftercare...
on time each year...miraculous affair.
Perhaps each season's a concessionaire;
each one provides the best for Earth's welfare.
Some color scenes are full, some leave them bare...
but springtime seems the best beyond compare!
Oh, yes, I feel that spring is in the air.
March 19, 2019
~1st Place~
Contest: A Brian Strand 1091
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 03/18/2022
Categories:
aftercare, happiness, spring,
Form: Monorhyme
People come to stare at animals there.
With no time to spare, they rush everywhere.
Moms and babies share as she gives them care.
Elephants declare their presence with flare.
Critters with long hair jump to trees midair.
Dangers anywhere, zoo signs say, “Beware.”
Alligators pair; together ensnare.
Flamingo welfare wades near unaware.
Black ravens declare their cries for warfare.
Orangutan’s flair all pose debonair.
Snakes slither and scare; many of them rare.
Giraffe heads in air stretched eating a pear.
Cutest baby bear stayed at zoo’s day-care.
Dark starts aftercare; search for disrepair.
Hunger fills the air; beast cries everywhere.
Zoo keepers’ aware help creatures forbear.
A mare with a scare had a wound repair.
Grounded in despair once freedom’s coheir.
Bald Eagle’s wing tear made life so unfair.
When problems ensnare, zookeepers say prayer.
Everyone is there beneath the sun’s glare.
Bound to a wheelchair, broke or billionaire.
People come to share; animals forebear.
1/7/2017
Categories:
aftercare, animal, care, life, urban,
Form: Monorhyme
Nora Nills sought to be a nurse
A desire that proved a curse.
Most of her patients died
Which made Nora decide
To take a job driving a hearse.
Categories:
aftercare, humor,
Form: Limerick
Moved beyond the glow, volcanic fires
Gigantic flares exude to this domain,
Sharing what is essentially our desires
Acceptance is white hot, we come again.
For every ounce of force there is recede
The many thrusts of rage that share a time
In coming with each other to concede;
The fact remains, we cool to wait the climb.
It heals the rift between the stubborn split
Of virginal desires that spare the rod,
To bridge perspiring atmospheres that hit
The temperatures that uppermost can prod.
Between the gates of heaven there is. Well!
The saturates to drift betrothal vows;
To overcome the centuries indeed swell,
Where copulations need the great arouse.
The flow of each sensation moves about,
Like nothing on this earth can fully load,
The mound is fully filled, and roustabout
Becomes the baby’s maker, both explode.
As the interceptions feels the tingle move,
Euretha spurts as nature’s aftercare
The slag is more subsidence than a groove,
Indeed it is, to push the land elsewhere.
Categories:
aftercare, nature, passion, uplifting, visionary,
Form: Rhyme