Long Mommas Poems
Long Mommas Poems. Below are the most popular long Mommas by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mommas poems by poem length and keyword.
He was a boy,
innocent in ways the world
never gave him credit for,
caught in a storm bigger than his sins,
over sentenced to concrete walls
and steel doors that closed too heavy
for twenty-six years of life.
Prison tried to harden him,
tried to carve away the soft edges,
tried to teach him silence,
but he dialed anyway.
Every day,
four, five times a day,
his voice pressed through the static,
“Hey, Mom.”
A lifeline in a place
where men learned to hide their love.
The others laughed,
rolled their eyes,
mocked him for needing her still.
But he only grinned,
chin lifted,
and said what most men
were too hollow to confess:
“I’m a mama’s boy.
You’re just jealous
your mommas don’t love you that much.”
And in that moment,
he wasn’t an inmate.
He wasn’t a number.
He was a son—
calling home,
reminding her
and himself
that innocence wasn’t dead,
not while love still had a voice.
Momma’s Heart
Looking back on all the selfish things that we would do
and all the stories we've been told about what she's been through.
Momma’s heart is fragile, broken more times than we know.
Through cracks and holes life left behind, love found a place to grow.
Momma found out early, that life would be a fight,
she remembers far too many hungry sleepless nights,
building in her character a tender heart to show
compassion for the ones she loves through hard times they would know.
Life never got easier, just different through the years.
Her family grew along with all her worries and her fears.
That just made the binding vines grow stronger even still,
to hold her heart together till the cracks and holes could fill.
There's a sacred place forever heavy in her heart
with dated stones of those she loved who's time it came to part.
The sweetest fragrant flowers guide the paths her heart still roams,
as memories of the ones she loved that God came calling home.
Momma’s heart is like a garden it took all her life to grow.
She tends it with her tears and prayers for things we'll never know.
I think it's amazing grace God gave her from the start
for all the love she grows through cracks and holes in Momma’s heart.
- Jeannie Cronin
Momma knows her girl ain't crazy,
Still hearing those wedding vows,
It never ceases to amaze me,
What she's going through even now,
While cryingly she goes on...sharing mommas loving hand,
She's cried a month of Sundays,
Felt the slamming door,
Hoping maybe someday,
Love is evermore,
In the rising and setting suns...of having a good man,
She's been tried by the Devil,
Felt the upper hand,
Been so disheveled,
Trying to understand,
Now her life must go on...without that wedding band,
She's cried a month of Sundays,
For the man she knew before,
Hoping maybe some way,
Love is evermore,
Now her life must go on making new plans.
She's been walked on a bit,
And still has those crying fits,
O-O-O-O-Oh! Lord!
Even I can read her lips,
Now an ex-wife must be strong, trying to understand,
How her life must go on, without that wedding band,
She has mommas loving hand.
She's been walked on a bit,
And still has those crying fits,
O-O-O-O-Oh! Lord!
Even I can read her lips!
How an ex-wife must be strong, trying to understand,
How her life must go on, without that wedding band,
She has mommas loving hand.
My mothers name is Doris
She a fine woman indeed
She was the best momma to us kids
And still helped those in need
She taught us kids so much
Like what's wrong and what is right
She took such good care of us
Through each day and through each night.
I'm blessed to call her momma
She's inspired me my whole life
To have such a strong woman around
To teach me to be a mom and a wife.
She was born three months premature
On a cold January night in '29
On the Rez where she was born
In a shoebox she spent her first night
Unsure if she'd make it through that night
Her parents did the best they knew
To keep her alive and well until
The Doctor made is monthly trip through
The doctor said she'd die young
And never be a mother
But yet she raised 12 kids
Raised them better than any other
Many birthdays came and went for her
She is living life the best way she can
She's showed so much love in her life
She showed me how to love my man.
She's been through so much in life
And yet here she still stands
So much stronger than I could imagine
She's created so much with her hands
She's lived such an amazing life
This past January, she turned 91
She's inspired me oh so much
She's helped me with the loss of my son.
She inspires me so much each day
Everything that she's overcome
The death of two husbands,
7 daughters and 3 sons.
She has so much strength
How she does it I can't even guess
And as far as Mommas go,
Im blessed to have the one that's the best.
2/17/2020
I used to dread,
Going to bed.
Momma said, "No shoes in bed.
Take them off instead!"
I'd sneak my feet,
Under the sheet.
Fold them flat,
So, my shoes wouldn't peek.
Then in the middle of the night,
Up they'd pop.
Right in my Mommas sight.
She'd slide them off my feet.
Next morning,
I had to tie my shoes back on.
Always would lose.
The shoes would come undone,
Whenever I would run!
My friends would try to help.
Tied my shoes tight.
Double knot, pretty bow, I was a sight.
Would last until that night.
Momma said, "No shoes in bed!
Not tonight"
Then I discovered the slide on kind,
No knots or bows.
I was sublime.
In the morning,
I slide my feet in.
What a way for my day to begin.
When I'm older,
I'll learn to tie a shoe.
Not now, with my slide in shoe.
"Mama" is usually
the first word we learn to say
the love and bond that is formed
long before our first day
Moms teach us how to speak,
and to do what wrong or right
they lovingly watch over us through
the days and through the nights
we kids test and try them
sometimes to their very last nerve
we give them grief and worry
far more than they ever deserve
we all grow and learn
in the best way that we can
as we all grow up to be
a woman or a man
as we all grow older
our mommas do too
getting grey hair and wrinkles
a bit slower in what they do
what does a child do when
Momma's health is fading fast
knowing that this day
just might be their last
then the fateful day comes
and you hear that shes gone
92 years here
is really not all that long
now i feel so lost and
i dont know what to do
she wasnt only my momma
but she was my best friend too
so now we all get together
just to say our goodbyes
holding and hugging each other
all with tears in our eyes
we'll speak of old memories
both the good and the bad
we all will tell our stories
of the advertures that we had
even the little ones
will have a tale or story
about how much fun they had
baking with their Grandma Dori
She has seen so much
over the years of her life
being a wonderful mom, a great friend
and a loving wife
she came in a small package but
you wouldnt want to make her mad
all it would take to stop us kids was
that look that warning look she had
her heart was so big
she was full of so much love
i would sometimes wonder if
she was an angel from above
with heartbreak and sorrow
today we all will part
all of us carrying
a hole in our heart
her passing has saddened
all that she touched
all of us loving her
oh so very much
I don't know how we'll go on
but we'll have to find a way
for i know we'll see her again
in Heaven, above one day
-3/25/2021
You all want me buried
You all want me dead
You live your lives straight ahead
You have no idea how to be me
So I am around for eternity, you see
Without me there would be no fire
No sensual, silly, slapstick desire.
Without me there would be no you.
For who could you frighten. Tell me….who?
I am glad to be here, to straighten you out.
You are consternated beyond a doubt.
Wanting to buy me, put me deep in the grave.
Many want me long gone. You can rant and rave.
I will leave this gig on my own term.
And not in a body bag or an urn.
If you cannot deal, go back to your mommas and pop.
I am here to stay, to enliven, enthuse, excite, and I will not stop!
I love you I try to do what's right..I really did go swimming last night I stopped by baskin and robbins for a quart of your favorite ice cream butter pecan but it melted..I think you felt it, the change in our relationship. we hide behind beautiful lies to soften the pain and flee from what used to be estacy-crying oh please free me. so when will I leave can't go to mommas house down south, oh no mary lou's back at mommas house. to death do us part it really was in my heart to be with you forever, now we wish we'd never..we tell lies to hide the contempt and distrust we choose others for lust and other sex stuff..In the next life maybe we will meet again in a pure spirit, I will be by your side in complete bliss..beautiful lies has made an exit.
(following on figurative heals
sans, l'amour,
i.e.,and that bastard conception
of life, liberty, and the
pursuit by George - Marshall ling, Grant
ting, and Bing Frank.)
Expectant motherhood generates aurorean
sonogram x-ray zooms
bringing developed fetus
healthily shimmering viz,
quasi hologram seen
glowing halo, inducing
jubilant kickstarter lil bean,
administering capitalone
earthlinked joyful lyft,
natural pheromone readying cerulean
tommorrows, venerated ecstacy doth gleam
zinging bounteous
dizzying feelings hormones houseclean
jackanapes leviathon nestling
pinterestinly interocean
reaching terminus vista
xing zee birth canal mien
doctor readies Fallopian tube cutting
helping jiggle little nymphean
possibly ranking...
as future topnotch venerated Olympian
fast forward to joyful loving neuro
logically plain resplendent teen
knee weeny tiny
vaunted expanding zing
baby dripping Vasoline
like goo fully gesticulating
happy jolly newborn.
Which miracle whipped
purely by chance
given reason to the most orthodox
to sing and dance,
sans said singular biological
phenomenon does enhance
freshly minted parents,
or the mommas
and papas genetic
copy wrought grants
who already passed along
to a brood of offspring
gushing with excitement
akin to fire hydrants
spewing forth fountain head
treasuring such Kodak moment,
cuz such instance
and subsequent tender
wonderful blessed
Instamatic reverent cherished instants
will zip at greased lightening
via speeding hurled lance
sing remembrance of things past
during twilight years,
an eye blink those yesterdays,
when my troubles seemed so far away
and upon being centenarian,
doddering fogie gripping hold,
hugging intensely, indubitably decrying
how quickly of
decades long ex pants
didst elapse, when tendering
to a coliciky, finicky,
inscrutably lemony snickety offspring
wishing infant would grow up already,
now onset of autonomy
Das Agean sea sunned
father or mother
hood doth rants
at father time, he doth access
without a word an excel lent
power point demonstration
with near vertical line brevity
of how mortality slants.
“Our World”
by Positive Mark
As we all seek a world to be contained in, our peek-out is the news. For those of you less beautiful, I gift fried chicken and the blues.
Horns with a muted bellow for every dead fellow who never made it out. Tight dresses for baby’s mommas, so those bodies leave no doubt.
Pitches peak on slammaday and slumday, then dive by Monday.
Jazz strained by too much salt. It’s food called soul. It ain’t our fault.
I’ve had no chill since Emmit Till.
Percussion is dulled by a pocket of pills. Contained in a world where we’re killed.
Gorilla pimps and ‘rillo scents, when will our world be healed?