Long Mother son Poems
Long Mother son Poems. Below are the most popular long Mother son by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mother son poems by poem length and keyword.
* It has been over two years since my mom/best friend in the world was taken from me, but the wound is as fresh as ever … I was told that the passing days would make it better, but I’m still waiting for the sun to rise. *
~
dear Mama, have you found that other side
where loved ones, hope and heaven all reside?
oh do you stroll, Dad's hand lost deep in yours
and breathe the splendid air that kingdom's shores?
dear Mama are you dancing with your knight
in sturdy armor that you shined so bright?
oh do you paint new landscapes of that realm
and sail those azure seas, Dad at the helm?
dear Mama are you singing bright and clear
and sharing anecdotes to charm or cheer?
oh are you with the dear ones who have passed?
so many went before you, gone too fast …
dear Mama, do you know how much I miss
our talks and nature walks, your loving kiss?
oh do you yearn our sweet connection, rare
that even without words, was always there?
dear Mama do you know the hole that now
I have to heal within my heart somehow?
oh what's this man to do, his mama gone
but for her sake, find ways to carry on?
dear Mama I will sow your seeds for life -
the grace and care you gave as mom and wife
I'll do my best to share my heart, like you
your smile deep inside to get me through …
dear Mama, death has taken such a toll
still, I've one hope eternal for my soul -
that someday when my body sets it free
dear Mama's open arms will wait …
for me. ?????
From my book “Melancholy Moon”, Copyright © 2024, Wheelsong Books, UK
( photographs taken from Barden Family personal domain files )
Give me the ministerial seat
I labored months to breed kings,
Fingers cramped to feed queens,
With a long list of wishes to fulfill.
Give me the ministerial seat
I wept in secret,
And smiled with no morsel in my belly.
I became all— even god.
Give me the ministerial seat
I toiled the ground to bear fruit,
Nourishment I only glimpsed,
Never tasting its flavorful essence.
Give me the ministerial seat
I carried their pains and struggles,
Even on days we fed only on tales,
Wishing the night would last forever.
Give me the ministerial seat
Life is measured in miles,
But I have walked a lifetime in pain,
Their faces— my only source of joy.
Give me the ministerial seat
For I am Woman.
Tell me son
what happened
on that Friday afternoon
You were taken without warning
You were taken far too soon
No time to say goodbyes
As your spirit calmly rose above
the trauma down below
Tell me son
did someone call your name
and gently take you by the hand
escaping all the pain
Son do you remember
Did you know who came
Did you have an inkling
Did you have a call
Did you know
my darling boy
anything at all
Are you somewhere calm now
with all of those you love
A peaceful place
A joyful place
If only I could see your face
I hope you’re in a better place
Tell me son
please let me know
why you had to go
Written 25th December 2019
.
I found forty rusty pennies in a black leather slipper
while my itchy nose sneezed more than three times;
why were they hidden from thrifty mother?
Weren't they less valued than silver dimes?
While my itchy nose sneezed more than three times,
mom woke up to scold me for my loud laughter;
she was mad and wanted to hear anything but lies
and frantically screaming, she pulled my curly hair.
Mom woke to scold me for my loud laughter,
I tripped on the slipper, falling flat as a bear,
and frantically screaming, she pulled my curly hair;
with an angered face, I retrieved to my dark lair.
She was mad and wanted to hear anything but lies,
mom woke up to scold me for my loud laughter;
with an angered face, I retrieved to my dark lair...
I found forty rusty pennies in a black leather slipper.
To our son Kartikeya
Another birthday crowns, dear son, though far you stay,
With love beside you now in life’s new way,
We celebrate you here with smiling tears,
And send our prayers across the seas today.
The house still echoes with your laughter bright,
Your memories linger softly every night,
Though distance keeps your cherished face afar,
Our hearts embrace you closely in their light.
Now married, may your journey bloom with grace,
With endless joy and peace your home embrace,
May every step together shine with love,
And happiness forever fill your space.
So on this day, our blessings gently soar,
Across the oceans to Canary Wharf’s distant shore,
Know that son, you are our greatest joy,
Loved deeply now and always evermore.
May 30,2026
© Dr Upma A. Sharma
In front of impending disaster
He stood there
Right beside the operation theater
Watching his parents
Going mad with pain
A thousand thoughts were flowing in his mind
What would happen if his brother couldn’t survive
The doors get opened
What he feared the most just happened
His mother unconscious
His father lying on floor, crying like a baby
His heart was erupting with pain
But he was fine
He walked, signed the documents
He had to do so...
He was to be strong...
He was supposed to laugh in the face of Anguish
A nurse looked at him with his mouth opened
“The death of his brother left no mark on him,
How cold-blooded!”
He arranged the funeral and buried the dead
Took his parents home, dried their eyes
And went out at night
Cried,
The sky watched him,
The moon and stars watched him,
He cried till Dawn,
The water rolled over his face
And were stolen by the thirsty Mud
He came home at Dawn,
Went to office and came back in the evening
To sooth his parents,
Made sure they didn’t sleep hungry
And then, went out again...empty stomach
To shed tears--- dark
That nobody would see
For what thing is visible in dark...
(2/15/20)
In this special world:
Authenticity assails apprehensions and apathy
Beauty is braced by belongingness’ blessings
Compassion calls for clamor over caring control
Dedication with devotion defends any disability
Empowering while exhorting expressive exposure
Fostering family-fellowship, forgiving flaws
God-governed, graciously guarding and guiding
Hoisting, helping hearts to be happy and healthy
Influenced, ignited toward impactful inspiration
Jubilantly joyous; not jeered with unjust jest…
In this world of special children:
Kindness kindles kind kinship in their kingdom
Love leads, liberating lives midst laughter
Mercy matters most in mingling with their minds
Nice nurturing and nourishing are nevertheless nice
Optimism ought to overflow as openness is optimized
Prayer props progress while patience prospers performance
Quest for quietude quells questions and queries of quirks
Recognizing their responses renders reaction-readiness
Special is their status; such stature synthesizes social stigma
Triumphantly, they tackle their tasks toward thanksgiving…
In this world of my special child:
Understanding upholds his unfathomable untowardness
Virtues he valiantly values vanquish his vulnerability
Watching him win as workmanship of God* wakes me from whining
`Xpectant am I for his ‘xcellent ‘xpertise as `xceptional
Yes, I yield to Yahweh my son's “yeppi” and “yay” yells of victory-yearns
Zealous to zoom with him toward zenith of grateful zesty zing.
*Ephesians 2:10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.
August 30, 2024
3rd place, "In a World where I do not Exist" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 9/7/2024
The End is How it Ends
The end is how it ends and if it doesn’t we haven’t gotten there yet
As I sit here and the window open and the church bells toll
It’s a reminder that your spirit is lingering and with me
I have watched your torment as we lowered the casket of your first born son
I saw the rolling of your eyes as I once again started over to recapture recovery
The disappointment like an old photo of a woman standing in a disaster one tear transported down your cheek
Disaster of a tornado brought about by my lack of integrity and honor
I watched you and Pop slowly die and I was thinking is this my doing?
But finding Jesus and going everyday to the nursing home to feed you both
Until Pop left us after the quadruple by-pass. And his wonderful smile
One day he said to me,”out of all my friends,family and children! I can’t believe it’s you here !!
I felt honored that Jesus saved me as I read the second reading in state prison.
We must rejoice in our suffering! How do I rejoice in such a terrible life and being a loser. Then it says ,” because suffering brings endurance. And I said I have endured no matter what’s happened both to me, Pop and Mommy. And then it says endurance brings us Character! Wow this is what I have always wanted. To respect myself! Look in the mirror knowing I’m doing it all the right way. And character brings hope. Hope is what’s driven me all my life and my mother always gave me hope. Even in her sadness, she always offered me hope as did Jesus when I opened my eyes to see.
And I see you dead on that table. All that’s left of you and wonder are you watching me still?
The next morning as I’m drinking coffee I do my duty in the bathroom and wash my hands…
As I gaze into the mirror I see your beautiful eyes looking wonderingly at me and I see the shape of your beautiful face looking at me!!!
I realize I carry you with me and your blood that passes back and forth unimaginably and am proud of who you created!
The end is how it ends
For Vida ( my Mother)November 16 ,1940 -March 23,2025
Decked out and wearing slippers
Driveway ten miles high or so it seems
Icy and unrelenting
Why does my David think
we can make it through the moss?
We climb the cliffs or so it seems
Two sons, well a son and his friend,
see me almost meet my end
They’ve been staring out the pane
Are they teens at all?
I slip as if drunk ~
a winterwork’s wipeout
‘Fore I can blink
I’ve been set upright
betwixt the stately oaks,
carried into the comforting arms
of home
Sons are born, some come as a friend —
together they save a mother
from death’s humiliation and shudder
I think my David made it inside
He must have ‘cause he is by my side
The next uproar is our hearty laugh
as our car sits lonely at the bottom
awaiting tomorrow’s thaw
Things look prettier
behind the pane
and once again these young men
morph into teens
hiding in their cave
Like fairies at midnight,
no one believes they exist
to save you, reset your timeline
Boys grow up to be men
sometimes it shows
‘fore their time
and love grows for two sons -
one will stay,
the other’s the equivalent
of one snowflake ~
worth a dendritic cent,
a collectible
10/26/2020
My first great faith journey
involved exiting EarthMother's nighttime womb,
without even a first language
except what RightBrain inherited
from noticing emotive taste and feel
and healthy/pathological touch
memories prehistorically Win/Win
and Win/Lose
and Lose/Lose souled
unsoiled either happy or mad,
learning both/and health-resilient midways.
From such humble nutritional/toxic expectations,
and win/lose annunciations
of EarthTribe's integral potential,
wealthy yang opportunities and yin-unhealthy risks,
through adolescent win/lose romantic invested engagements
On through my own forty-year corporate adult commodified faith journey
ensuing
pursuing my great white-male privileged American dream;
A win/lose business-as-usual pilgrimage
toward my more recent retiring win/win destiny,
for healthy wise-elder now
unhealthy other-wise then
Not really a chosen win/win destination
freely destined to and as begun
with integrity of ego-me inside sacred eco-Other
co-passion for positive
healthy
rational/nutritional purpose
And perennial meaning
this old pre-cortical WiseElder right brain
we have anciently learned interdependence
does not believe in autonomous ego-mortality,
Right brain emotive intelligence
is not overly invested in left brain ego's embedded fragmentation
co-arising feelings of righteous predative anger
and leftist prayers conserving lose/lose fears
of YangGod's universally autonomous climate genocide.
Ego's de-individuation
away from Earth's healthy habitat
rejoining MotherEarth's timeless individulting wombs
reproducing integrity's conjoined co-passioning potential,
ReBecoming as I began
win/win re-entering memories re- and pre-historically souled
unsoiled
inside EarthMother's first pre-cortical dark night
Becoming bicameral felt
effectively co-caused/effective
neo-cortical ego's individuating day
ReComposing my first great healthy transformational
co-arising in/ex-formational
re-journey
re-membering my first great transitional
sunrise developmental
co-passioning light/energy service
courageously multicultural
vulnerably global
and transparently personal.