Long 'mother Poems

Long 'mother Poems. Below are the most popular long 'mother by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 'mother poems by poem length and keyword.


Lamentation 1

What is life without joy and happiness? 

what is life without self honour and pride? 

Upon this mountain hell i lay every day

Battered and frustrated

A man of sorrow, forsaken

My spirit groans for mercy which failed to come

All is taken away from me including the smallest pin

 

 

of what is life without  a mother? 

painted black and  red

I mourn every seconds for that pretty damsel

swifter that the eagle, my heart pounded

Joy whispers sadness in my ears

and tears becomes my friend

In despair i feast and dance sorrowfully

they mock and throw me around like a forbidden coin

 

 

men are evil, my spirit moans

Raising my eyes to see my ears

i could tell of their wickedness 

my goats, cows and jewelries gone

Hear me evil souls, the nature has its judgment

Once in life, it cometh and it hard to escape

It hard to escape the judgment

 

look at father native compound

it been taken away by strangers

those who once dance with us

In good fortune and share our breads and barns together

NOw, they are against us in fury

Dare point us in the face and laugh

Hear me old friends, nature has its judgment

The nature has its judgment, beware

 

In my old age. bitterly i weeps all day

in affliction and harsh labour

my foes had become my masters

 the roads to my hut mourns

my compound groans and grieved

None to comfort me, all my friends had betrayed me

All the splendor has departed in the air

 

 

this is why i weep and, 

my body shivers

My eyes overflow with water

All who pass my way clapped and laughed at me

Enemies open their mouth wide against me

my grieves are many and my heart fainted

i am in torment within, disturbed and  distracted

I remembered my wandering and pains

In the dark forest alone

Covered my self with anger

 

 

perhaps my father had sinned

And i didn't know and, 

we now bore the pains

Getting brad is at my life risk

Because of the sword beneath

look and see our disgrace

Those who pursue us are at our heels

my siblings scattered abroad sorrowfully

No one to caution us and drag us back

Till end i know the earth has it judgments

i shall sing beautifully with joy in other phase of life

when the gate shall open.

 

ALL RIGHT RESERVED (C)  JOHN CHIZOBA VINCENT 2013
Form: Elegy


Illusion

And this picture on the wall of my heart told a story of men giving birth  among themselves in the north promiscuously...
Sipping memories from the lungs of the  girl child. 
They were not ashamed of the little ones watching their nakedness which howled at them mannerlessly. 
We bathed the oceans again and again,
We made the sand shone like the moon,
We washed the sky daily to see clearly of what the earth has in stock for us. 
We painted the earth and added more colours to the chirping rainbow. 
Life became wet in our palms because we saw images and figurines of women  whose shinning womb were made abnormal  by men of yesterday. 


And mother told of an innocent girl that killed her father, mother and brothers, 
She was patted by the king for doing so, 
As she told this ear breaking tale,
we saw the rain emerged from the ground instead of the lonely idle cloud that watched us through different mirrors. 
They said we'll live forever on paradise, 
They said there is heaven and hell, 
They said evil people will be punished on the last day, 
They said we will burn for thousand years, 
But how could a father punish his children with fire and brimstone?
How could spirit burn in a fire? 
How could we tell lie to ourselves and expect the sun not against us? 
We have seen cock making love to a duck and, dog to a cat, and grandma told us it was normal. 


And Father told of the miseries of  the black spirit in our village streams, 
How pouring of libation on the family shrine brings good wife and good harvest, 
how rubbing oil and wearing palmfrond on your lips wad away demons.
he said there is a third heaven above us, 
He told us why the He goat smells, 
He said white ghosts do fly day time; he has seen the flashes of one of them at Benin. 
After Christopher, I creed, 
After Achebe I loved again
After Seghor
After Wole and Niyi' folklores,
After Habila Helon,
After Chimamanda's truths, 
We'll retrace this fables with a knitted thought towards strings of our voices. 
How does the patient dog eat the fattest bone now? 
Does the silent cock still live for a lifetime? 


Mother lied to us
Father lied to us
Grandma lied to us
Grandpa lied also
A mirage formed
Teachers lied to us
An illusion created 
We are not who we are through those illusion told to us through their lips. 


Yours Poetically,  
©John Chizoba Vincent.

The Deceitful Child

All  of my children did come home
One at a time, almost like a metronome.

It made me happy, as I felt needed
Yet, when they wanted advice it was never heeded. 

I love them all with my entire being, 
Yet, not long it felt like they were fleeing.

They are now adults with lives of their own
However, for their past, some refused to let me atone.

My youngest one always acted entitled,
Then when he started working he made me feel vital.

Then one by one, as their lives moved on, it seemed they forgot about me.
Only on holidays or my birthdays did they act around me with glee.

Once festivities  were at an end  they found a reason to flee
They always seemed to prove my fear that they were there out of duty.

Then my youngest started calling me every day to say I love you
I started thinking  I was forgiven for all he had gone through.

I was soon to learn how wrong I was
As he started rumors, making a buzz.

And soon most believed these rumors so heinous
He was showing everyone he was a Janus.

Somehow the others believed him
It left me feeling my future with my kids was grim.

Then one son came to me to talk about my actions
Talking to me and making it look like we were doing transactions.

Yet, he was telling me the things my youngest had said
Then he gave me an ultimatum that led me to feel as if my heart had bled.

The very next day, I woke up to a message from my other mother
Another lie told by my youngest made me feel like he wanted to separate me from his brother.

Now that son and daughter will not returns text or a call
Making me think they believe the lies one and all.

All because I was tired of my youngest using me
Threatening me that in my life he no longer would be.

All because I told him until he could talk to the respect I deserve
Somehow my telling him this must have struck a nerve.

Now he is trying to turn all his siblings against me
Using lies and my fears in order for me to beg and plea.
	
There are two he cannot turn
Oh, how it must make him burn.

He is not being an adult, but a deceitful child.
I am praying my other two can help me get reconciled

To the two who believed their younger  brother
And have them understand what is going on with their mother. 

Until that time comes, I sit here and wait
I have to leave this all to God and to fate.

© Kristy De La Keur Scoville
Form: Rhyme

Turning Anguish Part 1

5/21/11-5/22/11
I rule over the night
undaunted with all my might
I have time to spare all I can bare
Watching the hand chime 
tugging…pushing…shoving
through whirling toil
that feed the spoil
Perplexing strife
refusing to give up 
Power and torment 
 
We are too caught up in our own power
and ruling over each passing moment
each passing night…destroying the twin towers
 
Who’s doing all the blaming?
Who’s choosing our faults?

I’m tossed…shifting around with uncontrolled anguish 
Zipping…tripping over rambling bolts
spiraling into a mad house
Don’t enchant your intolerable voice
I see no love dwelling in this household
Do you seek for your power…
you insufferable traitor?

Seeking our upcoming doom
brewing strife in the heap of ruins
brewing strife while we still leave room
to obey and remain under power
You are assuming the worst 
father…mother…
rule over the passing anguish…circling around
stumbling around…not aware 
Hey you! play fair

Behave and stay awhile
before you feed the fire that holds sheer vile
Allow love to not be thrown away
into another pile

I grasp no love engrained 
In our giving garden
that plants ceaseless approval  
Pardon my faults
I was far from comforting sleep

Dread is driven mysteriously 
Through an endless night
Moving on the tracks 
Forming into an alarming train

Who’s doing all the blaming?
Who’s choosing our faults?
Who did the labor suitably?

worthwhile father…pleasure-seeking mother
Don’t enchant your intolerable voices
and expect us to listen sensibly 
Demanding us to do labor
and assist our displeased neighbor
Why do you melt the delight away?
Throwing away a flavor of ecstasy
and put us to glove-less labor
without putting our favor and opinion
into the overlooked pile

Burning agony
dries the buried glee
Saved for a grieving moment
Playing like a warped tune… unable to express
solitude that develops in the heart
raped by the ragged uncertainties 
without taking heed of our pleas

These desirable moments
Cherished in the deplorable journey 
They weren’t acknowledged by power
Love in those days were brand new
Do you have a clue?
they were cherished...
Bountiful…
stranded in a deserted past
in merciful beauty…caught under the spell

Where did that come to pass?
Where’s the love?
Who’s doing all the blaming?
Who’s choosing our faults?

Premium Member The Old Lady In the Shoe

The Old Lady In The Shoe
November 22, 2013 at 5:57pm
Dedicated to all my children around the world;
 
The big and small of it.
Some appreciate the little
things that encourages
them to do big stuff.
 
Some  won't say anything,
because they never
get enough.
 
N'ary a second thought they give.
Some think they are entitled to it
and know not of reciprocation.
 
Some think that they should always
be the center of your attention.
Some children you can
doat on, and give them
all you've got.
 
Then there are
those to who will never
reach out to offer invitation.
Never lend a helping hand
To execute your plans,
It's selfishness
that  guides them
because they love you not.
 
Some children want to be heard
others just wanna be seen
but the unappreciative child
won't amount to a hill of beans.
 
Some children need a little push
while others need a shove
mothers can never tell a child
Which one who best she loves
When mothers see these attitudes
She knows which child
will pass life's test.
 
Some play in the corner
day-dreaming all alone
Some children keep
lots of company;While
others have one friend
that is all his own.
 
The one you devote
your time to
may not be the child
that does his best.
Some children need you more-
Some children need you less.
 
But the child that won't say
" thank you" mom....
and never listen to advice
is the ones that breaks
a mothers heart,and
discounts her sacrifice.
 
Some children need a little push
while others need a shove.
Some need a swift
kick in the pants
or maybe a wake up call;
Others just need
a little coddling:
But never does a child
deserve no love all 
 
Just remember the old lady
who lived in the shoe..
She had so many children...
They said "she didn't
know what to do."
 
Mothers learn your child,
try to give each what he needs
The one that appreciates
their mother is...
more likely to succeed. 
 
 
footnote : original version
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.She had so many children, she didn't know what to do;She gave them some broth without any bread;Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
 
 
Earlier version:
 
There was an old woman Who lived in a shoe,She had so many children,And loved them all, too.She said, "Thank you Lord Jesus,For sending them bread."Then kissed them all gladly and sent them to bed.


Prey In a Cage

I behold the rose in bloom, and I cry,
I weep and I wail, then I sigh.
As the night draws in, my painful thoughts begin to wake, 
I retreat into my mind and with fear I do shake.

Your clammy hand on my neck, your touch just like lead,
I close my eyes so you will go, you bury further in my bed.
I know I’m worthless, but please do not hurt,
And I try not to scream as you begin to insert.

The deed almost done, your sneer of disgust,
Your toes curl as we prepare for the final thrust.
You roar with delight, I exhale with relief,
My virginity now taken by a wretched old thief.

The memory still haunts, and the damage goes on,
I unravel the silk cloth that my knife lays upon.
Slowly but surely destruction is on its way,
I fear for my soul, but my body must pay.

Anticipation takes hold, and the blade does its work,
I press firmly down, blood appears with a jerk. 
Is this the pleasure I've longed to have?
And a voice deep within screams "YES! ONE MORE JAB".

I am so frail, my young flesh so weak,
I can not go on, for my virginity he did seek.
The cold steel blade tattoos my white maiden flesh,
And the untouched skin becomes like wheat for the thresh.

I must abate, I must restrain,
This is the only way I mask the pain.
My eyes glaze over, my body feels weightless,
Each stroke is a prayer, and every cut a caress.

The guests have arrived, my relief has been fleeting,
He stands there staring, my heart is beating.
He looks at me inquisitively, mouth gaping,
And my mother knows not that her brother likes raping.

His gaze upon me, I'm his gift to unwrap,
He would rip me open and toss me like scrap.
I wish he would vanish and leave me in peace,
But his lust won’t be sated, and on me he would feast.
 
My legs are so withered, and my wheelchair’s a cage,
I wish that man in the Skoda didn’t have road rage.
I guess I should be grateful I can’t feel a thing,
But my mind is alive and every inch of him stings.
 
He gives me a present and pretends to be nice,
But don’t be fooled, it comes at a price.
He wheels me outside for a fresh of breath air,
When no one is watching he sniffs at my hair.
 
I wish I could lash out with my thin spastic legs,
But they are as useful as ice-cube clothes pegs.
I hope my diary doesn’t land in the wrong hands,
And if you’re reading this now then I’ve suck-cummed to his plans.

- Anonce
Form: Ballad

Our Family Reunions Are Strange, Part I

I will sometimes be asked how it came about
that my children have one set of grandparents,
and I know just what you are thinking now,
but hear me out, an all of this will make sense.

I’m explaining this for one final time
to put all these blasted rumors to rest,
the odd position my family is in
did not come about due to incest!

It began when I, Armond Carruthers,
fell in love with a beautiful girl.
Her name is Denise, and she is my light
in this crazy and much-confused world.

See the two of us were high school sweethearts,
been together since our junior year,
managed to build something that could outlast
the blind passion of our teenage years.

But during our freshman year of college
we decided that we couldn’t wait,
maybe we were just a pair of young fools,
but we went ahead and set the date.

Now this is the point the story gets strange,
both of us were raised by one parent alone,
my father died in a car accident
when I was six, mom raised me on her own.

Denise’s mother was out of her life,
she cheated on her dad when Denise was four,
her father George did all the upbringing,
he gave her all of his hear and then more.

We were just nineteen when we got engaged,
her dad George was a fit forty-one,
my mother, Kristen, was just thirty-nine,
wanted to do something nice for her son.

She was us to focus on our studies,
and would gladly help plan the wedding,
that she and George would make things run smoothly,
we both thanked her, and let them do their thing.

They both must have seen something they liked,
though neither one of us realized it then,
they kept meeting up to ‘plan the wedding’
again...and again...and again…

All this time we just thought it was nice
that these future in-laws were getting along,
figured it would make holidays easy,
you can say we both read that one wrong.

Of course they did not tell us all this,
and the wedding was done in fine style,
neither realizing that for two months now
my mother knew that she was with child…

When three months later it became obvious,
both our parents sheepishly let us know,
to say we were stunned does not describe it,
but later to the courthouse we did go.

And as if this surprise wasn’t enough,
when my mind struggled to make some sense,
I received even more life-changing news,
my Denise was also now pregnant…

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Narrative

Sun

Oh,my dear hot star sun,                                                                                  You are the mother sky's son,                                                                         Daily you are born in the east,                                                                         And slowly dies in the west.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Oh,my dear big ball of hot gas,                                                                       You reflect like luminous glass,                                                                       Day and night are made by you,                                                                   You're the day star of the sky of blue.                                                          Oh,my dear sphere of hot plasma,                                                                 You give heat to earth chasma,                                                                       Are you help plants to grow and alive,                                                                All organisms need you for life and live.                                                   Oh,my dear shining eye of sky,                                                                      You're center of solar system close by,                                                           All the planets revolve around you,                                                                Your gravity keeps them in orbit true.                                                              Oh ,my dear big burning lamp,                                                                        You make wakeup all in the dawn camp,                                                 People worship you as their creator,                                                       Without you living things can't live greater.
Form: Rhyme

Riddle

The Truth is the Gift of Gods Word
for it's understanding the habitation has stirred
softly upon spirit we listen to it's call
comprehension to it's voice like a seed is small

Can you understand the wise man's riddle
apprehend interpretation the narratives trail
from beginning to end surround the middle
without understanding it's Truth you may fail

Upon the Truth are your heavens fixed
the hearing upon earth with lies are mixed
to many have reached a state of complacency
the cares of this life has choked ability

You lead upon paths unknown
a flight those having wings have flown
I tell you upon the rise of each day
that you must lead and show us the way

Oh Shepherd like a lamb you guide me
for I am lost to the flock without thee
My Lord and my God you have called us out
faith in you but confidence in self do doubt

With every gesture you affirm the way
yet evermore before me do my sins lay
I look around upon those I do see
whose lives are worth much more than me

The seventh day Jehovah has blessed
where mankind will enter into his rest
abundance of joy will fill the earth
as Gods Kingdom has given birth

The fruit of her labor is worldwide
she will wipe the tears her children have cried
Gods woman has brought forth Life
she will train the children remove their strife

You are God from the womb of my mother
have preserved me from violence of brother
your handmaiden as captive I serve
given more than anyone here deserve

I listen to the music of your call
understand I grace given since fall
for to live is Christ and to die gain
and within the hand of your Love remain

Forsake me not when I reach that hour
frail woman in mankind has not power
give me courage so I don't therein cower
for I have beheld the future from your tower

Oh my gentle Lord your path holds no discord
our seas turned to glass when we do as asked
neath your wisdom do kneel as truth you reveal
all thinking given you and insight given true

Hold me close and in your arms
for hear I do the trumpets alarms
you have signified my death
for those you love I give my breath

Hold my hand on the path you take
for I am weak and easily brake
a thing that is soft and frail
for those you love like Lord impale

Now I know the path to you
by example your loved showed true
willing I am to give you my life
like anointed Son did for wife

source JOHN 3:16 Romans 12:1-2

COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
Form: Rhyme

Hypnotized

Is slavery dead? Honestly it isn’t
Those of us who conform are stuck within a prison
We follow celebrities and we wear their clothes
As if they are Gods and we are mere mortals

As if they are shepherds and we are merely sheep
As if they are they are the strong and we are the weak
We quote their words and become their clones
And if we break their trend, we are left alone

And as they pass, we shower them with gifts
Money, so they can go and get their face lifts
Fame, so they can go out and conquer more slaves
Power, so they can destroy those who call them fake

They’ve brainwashed us so much we’ve gone completely numb
We openly cheer when the hero pulls out his gun
We don’t understand that we’re all completely mindless
We’re overjoyed only if the screen shows senseless violence

Nearby a police officer fights for his life
As a drug dealer tries to stab him with a butterfly knife
We’d call for help, but we’re busy with our own stuff
Discussing how the movie was good, but the killing wasn’t realistic enough

Our emotions are gone, we are all just droids
We don’t cry when we hear about a little boy
Who was killed in a shooting by a merciless gang
Because his father was part of the Ku Klux Klan

Instead we just shrug and respond “That’s the world today.”
“His father was an idiot,” is all that most people can say
“Things happen for a reason. That’s the Lord’s way.”
But that night, for that boy, everyone forgets to pray

We watch a few minutes of the news, not because we want to know
Coming up next is the new hit reality show
We’d rather watch girls dancing and grinding on each other
Instead of observing a woman work two jobs and be a good mother

And if disaster strikes, we observe the destruction and pain
The details of the damaged are extensively explained
But money only comes to charities with writing on the bag
The money must be packaged with a rich man’s name tag

So when the people see, they will remember what his mask looks like
He only cares if he’s quoted saying, “They will be all right.”
And with that, his money, fame, and power grows
And in the next election, it could even win him more votes

Learn to break the chains, learn to set yourself free
Your eyes are open, but you must learn to see
Don’t drink their potion. Don’t let them inside
Don’t stare at the pendulum too long or you’ll be hypnotized

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