Short Motherless Poems

the pike trawls the shallows
motherless ducklings
nestle together
the heron watches
motionless...

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Mothering Sunday
old men weeping, daffodils
at the graveyard gate

sons and daughters, motherless
everyone somebody's child

© Gail Foster 26th March 2017...

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He waits, 
Abandoned alone,
Motherless in a basket
Swaddled in a strangers
Clothes.

Staring at the sunrise, 
With wide newborn eyes.
Motherless in a basket, 
And still has yet to cry...

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Miracle Man
3/11/2022

Sky blinks, amid ordinance's rumble,
a motherless child sees life crumble.
Deserving of peace but found was none,
A life hardly launched and now it's done.
...

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Images
     
Imprint of holocaust
         indelibly entrenched
implodes with recurrence
          Injuring array of
icons  evokes nightmares
         inciting shrill screams of
infant left motherless

Contest Pleiades I
Date Feb25  2017...

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Four chicks forage alone in the woodland, motherless.
Strong of spirit, determined, they hunt and peck anyway.
Before dusk arrived, another hen and rooster protected them.

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
June 4, 2010


LEARN MORE:
http://www.encyclo.co.uk/define/Sijo...

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Parents do not desert your children,
If you desert your children then you do not understand the essence of child bearing.
Children should not be motherless or fatherless!
Help your children to acquire knowledge and skills to be beneficial to society and nation.

chipepo lwele...

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The child was scooped up by her mother.
Her crying stopped upon contact.
The motherless child looked up in wonder.
She did not remember such days.
Her mother had been gone since she was a toddler.
Her father watched her watch them, feeling sad.
It was time for a trip to grandma’s....

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VIOLENCE

Eye wrinkle it began 
To begat disparage
And yet Tysoning 
Shoot again begotten

Hemorrhage is brings 
Shelling and uphill
We export oil
Yet importing mortars

Listen to the melancholy
Of motherless mothers
That of fatherless children
And of groaning men

If we must mêlée
Let’s fight for peace...

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Many women deserve a crown, anD
Often, they don't need    academiA
Thanks to many hats; we'd      saY
Her hands calms rainbow waves
East, West, North and South, she's mother earth
Resuscitating troubled hearts
Saving those motherless from emptiness. 

*


For Tammy Reams poetry contest, April 13th deadline
(On Mother's Day)...

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I wake in sweats
Drenched in the regrets
Of a desert womb
This empty tomb
Where lie the never born
Whom I may never mourn
Never mourn this constant lack
That has me forever in deepest black
Never sit and talk beside their graves
For I can never bury the bodiless babes
Never sit and silently pray
For what dies inside me every day.

© Barry Freeman – 1st May 2021...

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my heart that beats without a drum 
its cheating starts from your fake glum 
and thundering sounds of natures turn 
instead does pound my beatless churn 
and smell i may of dead mans waste 
and see i may of dying breeds race 
and hear the sounds of babys cry 
to motherless frowns as the earth now dies 
and again my beatless heart stops dead 
and friends i never knew now bled...

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Unspoken, unwriiten
Subtle strong demand
'A baby boy is it'
Frantic efforts
Pained in shame and silence
Turgid with trauma 
Incomplete,  insecured
Tried the seventh time
She must have a baby boy'
Sick and tired
Pulling through the ninth month
Lengthened labour, heightened pains
Haemorhage heralded horror
Ceasarian section
'is a baby boy!!'
'A baby boy at last!'
A motherless baby boy!!...

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An Immaculate Conception

When Jesus was born as a motherless child;
After all the facts and figures were compiled;
A report made;
In manager laid;
Immaculate conception made Jesus meek and mild.

Jim Horn

Guess what. Over ten again. Oh, well.

Around and around Trump liked to fiddle;
Then not only that twiddle and twiddle;
Foolish and fat;
Moron at that;
As usual ended up caught in the middle....

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We never knew witches were real.
Until you flashed your fingertip fire.
Across our motherless cheeks and into our lives. 

We needed quilts of compassion and support.
You offered only endless task and unbridled welt retort.  

Now you're old and retired the broom and the belt.
Though your hugs and words are still north pole cold. 
Just like they were some five decades ago.
When you force fed us thin slices of hell....

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I thought I'd never write again
I thought many things
but never did I think I would be so young motherless,
life is a mess
what is everything worth when you're born to die?
Paying your bills until you're old then cry
about not being able to live,
asking yourself why.
But the truth is in all its irony
no one ever asks to be born
love and loss are the only true things we endure
because in your life those are the only things pure...

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Re-Introduction

The alarm awakened 
me to no dream of you –
A motherless thought; 
mere mist in the night.

There’s no imaginary friend 
with whom to speak in the park.
Always an unknown:
You’re the question that 
hangs over everything now…

Yet, still. Nothing. 
 
What delusion would beget a feeling – 
a vestige of some sensation?

I could not have dreamed/
I would have wanted for pangs.

So, here is your elegy:
This, my only labor pain....

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Dear mother too-long-gone.
One year,
second year of motherless
mother’s days. Never
thought you’d be the first
to go, over many who
seemed more likely,
but I’m not God. He knew.
He knew…we all die.
I thought I knew,
until you did.
The emptiness is complete.
Christ hung on that tree.
He knew
how bad separation
from a mother, from His Father
was. Too-long-gone,
come, Lord Jesus, come
reunite…
it’s been a long good night.

5/3/2022...

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Winter babies are carried
in small wombs over stark ground,
they have eyes and mouths by now,
almost human paws.

The snuffle of small rodents
awakens yet more unborn.

Adults still cry in motherless wombs,
struggling to be delivered
from a million cyclic still-births.

A new dawn, like a stripper,
takes off her long black gloves,
arrives in white thighs,

remembers that she also
is a working mother,
the labor of the world
her endless tryst....

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My Name is Bill!
The mist clears
Lavender green and lavender grey
Again!
On the menu
Creme caramel.
Honeydew dreams 
I remember from yesterday.
 
If only. If only  I was solvent
Again,
My bed feathered
My dog coiffeured
My wife would gaze at me lovingly.
 
 
But it is cold 
And I  am motherless, friendless,
Wifeless!
On the streets: stone cold.
My rockweiler and my lice as my 
Only company.
 
 
 
* To all the homeless living on the streets....

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Tear-stains carved within the crevice of her eyes
Throbbing joints torturing a beautiful beaten frame
 Through hate, isolation, struggle, she ran through the pain
Today a motherless child found her way 

A bastard with lacking greed yet in serious need
A man of ambitious with a will to succeed 
Despite the erroneous roads taken
Despite the storms which flooded his all
Today that bastard found his way

To find your way is to find you.  
May you find your way...

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Now here’s a tale spun with rattlesnakes
Stung into the eyes of motherless guilt
Now turn the head! Open the mouth!
For all to see, and so, too, that more shall fit!
The tainted vapors from our brew!
Breathe them, breathe them in!
And live like the hellhounds in our minds!

And then
In the morning you shall wake 
Returned, confused and dull
With nothing but a final sharp memory,
Like the wavering buoy in a black sea, 
Of the world bubbling and spilling from below....

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To clean

In the midst of orphans
I sit
Motherless
Like I
We are asked
What our mummies
Taught us

Some say
To love, to have faith, to believe
Others say
To follow their dreams, to be themselves,
To do good

I 
To clean
To always clean
My heart
And leave it spotless
For 
Love, faith, good
Kindness, honesty, obedience


And my mind
For thought
Thought for others
Other than my self

And strength
Strength to believe, to follow my dreams,
To be myself always 
For there is no one better....

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