~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She descends the trunk
upside-down,
skirts flaring like
spilled cranberry wine~
a furry scandal in December.
Her tail flicks twice,
aristocratic,
as she steals the last
candied almond
from your
gift basket.
Her neighbors
whisper~
no one dares
reprimand
a lady who wears
winter
better than
the holly.
Westbury where skyscrapers scratch clouds,
And backstreet murmur under glowing hum,
The metro slumbers,but terror thunderous crowds.
Laaities hone okapis where mumbled thugs come,
Each gangway a rabbit warren of cries,
And moms grab the dark,awaiting some.
In kangaroo courts blood thirsty 28s and 27s rise,
A revolver roars,the night asks but none says a prayer
While guiltlessness is sold in whispered lies.
Yet in this war,the lane hides myths rare,
Of youngsters who dodge the deep state,running fast,
Their footprints rebound,shivering through the air.
Westbury your skyscrapers check out the die cast,
Each brick a testifier,every lantern a guide,
The twilight is long,but hope remains at last.
The matriarchs of sections keep life supplied,
Their pleading a vein hope under mortar veins,
Where cowards hide,the soul of Westbury won't die
I am the matriarch the grandma said to the lot
Her opinion unvaluable, often ignored, not sought
No one heard this, she had become invisible to them
Everyone looked to her oldest lay-about son Jim
After you reach seventy, you are senile I guess she told Tony
He was her attentive grandson, slim, quiet, and tall boney.
Those twits I sired are forgetting one teeny tiny thing…
If they expect money, remember in this family, I am still king.
“How exactly, my love, am I to die well?”
The question croaked - a ghostly whisper;
from her lingering mouth
of rotten teeth and wretched lips;
broken by an end of thrist.
Eyes glazed at the edge of reality.
A mighty visage; a matriarch.
Vitality faded as a memory.
No more beautiful fiction,
only firm, cold skin;
left behind.
Kaaliammal Palanisamy...
Count to be nascient grandmammy..
Though pecuniary gravy of grandpa made family patriarchy,
The fish gravy of grandma maintain the family matriarchy.
Royal Matriarch
Beloved, cherished, idolized
Who could this person be?
A pop star or the president?
A hot celebrity?
Not even close, ten cuts above
A modest hero reigns
A selfless woman, strong and bold
A beauty with the brains
This person is no other than
The royal matriarch
The solid rock beneath our feet
Our night light in the dark
A shoulder for our heavy hearts
An ear to catch our plight
The silver lining through it all
Our wings when we take flight
Happy Mother’s Day to you
My mother, my dear friend
If words relayed my gratitude
My book would never end…
1st place!
Contest: "A Mother's Love, Tributes of Love for Mother's Day" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: BJ Legros Kelley
Date: 04-26-2022
if i take off my self
and strip completely naked
and you see a person undefined
and misunderstood, would you
love me despite the fact that i am a
nobody
would you care about me despite the
fact that i am nonexistent in the fully
clothed eyes of most
would you acknowledge my visibility
despite the fact that i am so obviously
invisible
you smile at me and give me a simple hug
and a plate of the best oatmeal cookies on
the planet along with a cold glass of
flav-o-rich
CHOMP! CHOMP!
GURGLE! GURGLE! AHHHHHHH!
Simple Answer With No Words
no more questions needed to be asked
thank you, Grandma.....
She is insatiable;predatory
In business always valedictory
Sees no conflict of interest in her position
Spurns financial disclosure requisition
She strides like a colossus, speedily
Eating smaller fry greedily
Using as an opportunity every disrupter
Allowing nothing or nobody to be an interrupter
[ODE TO THE MATRIARCH]
Your heart wandered,
everywhere I trod.
You bartered your perfections for my flaws
and that's how I learnt of sacrifice.
I learnt to dream whilst sleeping,
in the melodies of your infectious lullaby.
I learnt to walk,
when your words of hope beckoned my feet.
I found my strength,
in the ballads of truth you sang.
My success was fetched from
the stanzas of every advice you rendered.
It's just right I pen my heart to you Mama
You're the best tale,
my ink will ever tell.
And the finest song,
my lips will ever intone.
Your love will forever be my poetry.
From now till I drift off the hands of life,
I'll hide you in the deeps of my heart.
©Stranja depoet
True Story
Today was Doctor's visit
No 3
You see my Mum now struggles walking
Where as 6 month's ago she walked
more than me like she was 23
And 3 visits later seen by 3 different
Doctor's
Where are we at now ?
She resembles her actual age of 70
rather than her old sprightly 23
She still work's a 5 day week
6am till 4pm Monday to Friday
And yes she wants to carry on
but unfortunately without medical
help the game is up
But after 3 visits with 3 different Doctor's she is no better off
Confined to a walking stick and
good Samaritans who help
a temporary solution at best with
2 week's off with a Doctor's note
Leaving armed with the knowledge
nothing fixed the problem still persists
Her employment sanity and independence at stake
And after appointment and Doctor
No 3
Not a single pill hope nor resolution
to hang on 2
Might as well just have taken 2
Paracetamol as a Placebo
Must be scary at 70 year's old
when you ask but receive no help
Because what is the alternative
When there is no where left to turn next
Actually, I am not a good forecaster
And She was not that good forecaster
Audibly none is that perfect worthily
Adducing, we all are artists worthily.
But she did not know well to count
Boldly, to count meteor’s step out.
Bustle, it came and took her wholly
Wholly handing her tickling beauty.
Cruelly, curtained from her bathroom
Carted from bathroom to dead’s room
Crowned, it eternally took her wholly
Wholly handing her tickling beauty.
Definitely, she is an elevated artist
Decorously, a perfect-enough artist
Descent artist to design a post-life.
Wholly she had a tickling beauty.
Educator she did became ever since
Ever since a cursed meteor took her.
Evaporated, she did leave me empty
Empty, fully, without a matriarch.
Gélase Magnificat.
~The Family Matriarch~
She is the chalk that draws the line
The sturdy rope, the ties that bind
The go-to when times are rough
The sweetness in the breath of love
She sets the rhythm of the day
She is the all in all she's made
And we, the gallery of her art
~The Family Matriarch~
She is the hope in all of us
The shinning light, the path of love
She is the strength from out the start
The very beat deep in the heart
And after all when all is said
Her children rise and call her blessed
Accepting life through joy and scars
~The Family Matriarch~
Just thinking of my Mother and feeling blessed at the strong Godly woman she is. It's been 13 years since my Dads passing and my Mother at 87 still holds the family tightly together.
Matriarch of the Moon
Her mighty bow never misses its mark,
I passed her one night on a hunt in the dark.
I averted my eyes for a beauty unseen,
Under moonlight, entwined with natures queen.
We remained together though the cover of dark.
Before the break of dawn we embarked.
Her eyes flashed with loving spark.
Enchanting, though I wish I had foreseen,
Her mighty bow.
Apollo, angered by waking sparks,
Lured the friend of moon's matriarch.
In final moments, before cruel scene,
I thought only of natures graceful queen.
Her mighty bow.
Three boys and seven girls
Our house was never in a whirl
You were always giving and never taking
Meal after meal you were making
Never taking time for yourself
Always thinking about someone else
Three boys and seven girls
Our house was never in a whirl
With just one look
You could read me like a book
I laughed and said:
"You have eyes on the back of your head"
Three boys and seven girls
Our house was never in a whirl
When things went wrong
You stood so strong
Taking away all my fears
Comforting me with the words I longed to hear
Three boys and seven girls
Our house was never in a whirl
You made our house a home
With your warming tone
Laughter bounced off the walls
Joy flowed through halls
Three boys and seven girls
Our house was never in a whirl
Resilient man
able to ward off dragons
tow glaciers
shake off venomous snake bite
scale Mt. Everest
survive desert, blizzard conditions
wage war with guilt
boast of battle;
braggadocio
Frail male, behold the mighty girl...
you're helpless for that female touch
hopeless in her love
reckless fire desire
Look at you boy...
needy, weak, lost
minus her embrace
yet,
toe to candy red painted toe
pitted against her
you'll not draw even
Smart Sexy Matriarch
indeed,
she's undisputed
exuding power from within those brazen inferno ice eyes
she's everything and she's nothing
she's the bane of his existence
she's royalty man could not live without.
©2014 ~JSL PoetTreez Publishing
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