Short Mothered Poems

A newborn suckles.
The source of life beholds Man
in miniature....

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    Those who never worked a day
       Never had a bill to pay

    Never fathered or mothered a child
       Never a check-register reconciled

    Just pursued the ‘meaning of life’
       ~ Hope they find it in the afterlife!

...

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Billy was a loner, 
Rotten to the core.
Fathered by a bastard, 
Mothered by a whore.
Grew up mean and dirty, 
Took it on the chin.
Stole to make a living, 
Killed to save his skin.
Sheriff caught him napping, 
Hanged him from a tree.
All the preacher said was, 
“Better him than me.”...

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opposite the I,
is where i reside.
endure and bide,
endlessly.

You see My person,
nod at this version,
never question My identity,
You're right in me, not entirely.

Your gaze cant see,
everything outside Me,
ever watching you,
unaware I am two.

observe me please,
ease my weary knees,
She disagrees?
i know, i do too....

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Feel alone and used like a dark empty cupboard
Throwing their junk inside and walk away - no looking back
Trust me to hold rubbish knowing that it will be mothered
They don't even notice that I am starting to crack
Feelings locked in but theirs taken out on me by force
Painting over my cracks and pretending all is fine
Treat me as invisible and no signs of remorse
Someone will respect me someday - only a matter of time...

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Moon spills over like expresso coffee, 
withheld in a pitch pitcherlike corset —

Where long her skin's lantern once mothered me,
over tonight are but marble shadows,

Craters' paled apparition in my sky —
those cold breasts now an invisible blur;

This adrenaline dark when light's in wane,
virgin drinks in her cup's phase finally;

Still through a kohl tongue she kisses my hate —
this moon reads newly with every pause....

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A tree of height dreams was vast Sweet gum it seems, 
when I chance to retrace tender childhood thoughts. 
Young dreams of enemy's luck in classic schemes. 
Thoughts would drift as wars with my demons were fought. 

An old Sweet gum tree, my womb of strong support, 
she mothered my dreams, fetus did not abort.
Divine boughs call now I Godly dedicate, 
my witness by grace, as I still meditate.
======================
4/19/2011
...

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My mother is not a good mother
Perhaps I tried to deny such a truth at one point
Perhaps I always knew
Cruel, masochistic, benign to my every woe
I only wanted to be mothered, mother
I think I dont want a mother, anymore,
Mother?
She was never my mother
No, always but a mother to anyone else
Mother, all I wanted was to be mothered 
I only wanted you to pay attention,
To my bellybutton, mother
All I wanted was a mother, mother,
Not you....

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1. Wendy 

 

You have come to me

from a fairy tale,

Yes! I am sure

you are that same Wendy

who mothered Peter Pan

and the rest of the lost boys

on the magic island

called Our Childhood.

My dear Wendy!

Please take me with you

to that island,

I so much need

your kindness, and care,

the same as you gave

Peter and the other boys,

and, please, don’t tell me

you have forgotten

the way there!

 

 

 

 

 

2....

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