mande-tonde - Hello Poetry

My mother is almost six feet tall. 5′11 for whoever is curious. I am barely five feet. 5′1 for whoever’s wondering. As you can see, my mom is tall and that means that her eight other siblings: Jack, Jackie, Jackson, Annie, Francine, Aimé, Michelle and Noelle are equally if not taller than she is. On September 6th our pastor called me into her bedroom and there stood the three eldest siblings: Francine, Annie and Aimé like three beautiful angels. My aunt Annie was particularly hard to look at because she is a spitting image of my mother. Mom. On September 6th people walked inside the house with their shoes on. I know how much you hate that. Mom, there are people in the living room with their shoes on. Mom, on September 6th I was inside the house and you weren’t there. There are people flying in and out of this home and none of them are taking their ********* shoes off. As if the ground where your body had lain a few nights before was ***** Sometimes I can’t even look in the mirror because all I see is you. I see the woman you created. The little girl that you raised. The little girl who would put her head on your lap when the world was being mean to my four feet tall stature. Mommy. I am so sorry. I was an absolute demon to you. I ignored you just as much as I avoided you but you also have a part in this. I hadn’t woken up one morning and decided that I wouldn’t speak to you or that I’d move to a different city. These type of things build up. They accumulate and yet, I mourn you like the messenger of God you believed you were. Mom, I am so so sorry.

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Aug 22, 2019

Aug 22, 2019 at 12:08 AM UTC

My mother is almost six feet tall

My mother is almost six feet tall. 5′11 for whoever is curious. I am barely five feet. 5′1 for whoever’s wondering. As you can see, my mom is tall and that means that her eight other siblings: Jack, Jackie, Jackson, Annie, Francine, Aimé, Michelle and Noelle are equally if not taller than she is. On September 6th our pastor called me into her bedroom and there stood the three eldest siblings: Francine, Annie and Aimé like three beautiful angels. My aunt Annie was particularly hard to look at because she is a spitting image of my mother. Mom. On September 6th people walked inside the house with their shoes on. I know how much you hate that. Mom, there are people in the living room with their shoes on. Mom, on September 6th I was inside the house and you weren’t there. There are people flying in and out of this home and none of them are taking their ********* shoes off. As if the ground where your body had lain a few nights before was ***** Sometimes I can’t even look in the mirror because all I see is you. I see the woman you created. The little girl that you raised. The little girl who would put her head on your lap when the world was being mean to my four feet tall stature. Mommy. I am so sorry. I was an absolute demon to you. I ignored you just as much as I avoided you but you also have a part in this. I hadn’t woken up one morning and decided that I wouldn’t speak to you or that I’d move to a different city. These type of things build up. They accumulate and yet, I mourn you like the messenger of God you believed you were. Mom, I am so so sorry.

9

Yes and no? When I was younger, I would walk around with my breath held in. I felt like I never really had a chance to exhale and that’s because I thought I’d let too much escape. I’d reveal too much. Too much frustration, too much sadness or anger. I was always being monitored Always being controlled. I did not have the oppurtunity to express my feelings It sounds childish now But those were life skills I simply didn’t have Some that I still struggle with today. So I guess not. I’d love to have some space.

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Jan 27, 2019

Jan 27, 2019 at 3:50 PM UTC

Are you scared of being alone?

Yes and no? When I was younger, I would walk around with my breath held in. I felt like I never really had a chance to exhale and that’s because I thought I’d let too much escape. I’d reveal too much. Too much frustration, too much sadness or anger. I was always being monitored Always being controlled. I did not have the oppurtunity to express my feelings It sounds childish now But those were life skills I simply didn’t have Some that I still struggle with today. So I guess not. I’d love to have some space.

14

Ok Yes, it’s not all about love, or pain but surely it’s a metaphor for the depths of the halls we walk by ourselves amongst ourselves in order to confuse anyone that tries to wander too close to our hearts. Oh come on! Poetry is so pretentious. To hide through rhythmic syllables, to share a sonnet with thee. To dedicate an entire repertoire of acoustic melodies in order to talk about her body? Do not get me wrong, I love my fair share of dramatic soliloquies but it seems, to me that honesty has lost its value. Especially with writers. There’s no more truth anymore…no. It always has to develop into a complicated string of ideas. There was a time when writers were able to talk about a woman or lover or whatever, without invoking all the gods. Learn how to love for what simply is

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Sep 30, 2018

Sep 30, 2018 at 11:00 PM UTC

Here's the thing

Ok Yes, it’s not all about love, or pain but surely it’s a metaphor for the depths of the halls we walk by ourselves amongst ourselves in order to confuse anyone that tries to wander too close to our hearts. Oh come on! Poetry is so pretentious. To hide through rhythmic syllables, to share a sonnet with thee. To dedicate an entire repertoire of acoustic melodies in order to talk about her body? Do not get me wrong, I love my fair share of dramatic soliloquies but it seems, to me that honesty has lost its value. Especially with writers. There’s no more truth anymore…no. It always has to develop into a complicated string of ideas. There was a time when writers were able to talk about a woman or lover or whatever, without invoking all the gods. Learn how to love for what simply is

5

I've done it again. I lost track of time and put myself before everyone. I forced myself to look away because I knew it was true I quickly became ashamed of what I'd become I so easily turned into what I hated most Someone who values her own opinion so much That she is unafraid of hurting everyone Someone who "loves" herself so much That she tears people down Someone that is too smart Too intelligent, to discuss just exactly what the hell is her problem Someone who is so broken That she allows herself to shatter others Someone that put up the famous walls But couldn't break the 4th one. Someone that lost touch with reality. Someone that refused to admit it.

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Nov 25, 2017

Nov 25, 2017 at 4:34 AM UTC

Yikes

I've done it again. I lost track of time and put myself before everyone. I forced myself to look away because I knew it was true I quickly became ashamed of what I'd become I so easily turned into what I hated most Someone who values her own opinion so much That she is unafraid of hurting everyone Someone who "loves" herself so much That she tears people down Someone that is too smart Too intelligent, to discuss just exactly what the hell is her problem Someone who is so broken That she allows herself to shatter others Someone that put up the famous walls But couldn't break the 4th one. Someone that lost touch with reality. Someone that refused to admit it.

17

And to you, my child Don't underestimate the power of love Don't underestimate the strength of friendship Son. I am not made of stone. But I can be the rock you lean on When the world has beaten you to the core I am small in size, son But when the world decides that you no longer need to be seen I will carry you on my shoulders Longer than those nine months Son. I was raised by a hard man. But a man that honoured family A grandfather, for you, that'll share tall tales of his brothers Son, your grandfather may be small in size But he is a force not to be reckoned with He'll show you ways of life That belong solely to the male species Ways that I might never even understand I want you to listen more I want you to know that when the streets have been too loud for your fragile ears That mama, will replace gunshots with lullabies Scars with kisses Bruises with hugs But most of all. Hatred for self-love

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Jul 26, 2017

Jul 26, 2017 at 2:22 AM UTC

Vows for my Son

And to you, my child Don't underestimate the power of love Don't underestimate the strength of friendship Son. I am not made of stone. But I can be the rock you lean on When the world has beaten you to the core I am small in size, son But when the world decides that you no longer need to be seen I will carry you on my shoulders Longer than those nine months Son. I was raised by a hard man. But a man that honoured family A grandfather, for you, that'll share tall tales of his brothers Son, your grandfather may be small in size But he is a force not to be reckoned with He'll show you ways of life That belong solely to the male species Ways that I might never even understand I want you to listen more I want you to know that when the streets have been too loud for your fragile ears That mama, will replace gunshots with lullabies Scars with kisses Bruises with hugs But most of all. Hatred for self-love

27

And to you, my child I cannot promise you the world Nor a string of jewels to wear on your neck or even money But I can offer you my love A love so great with the magnitude of black holes Not just the cool ones in your science books But the ones that swallow entire planetary systems and clusters of stars I can't promise you much, baby girl But I can promise you that you'll never ask yourself if someone loves you You'll never wonder if there's a point to life You'll never doubt your worth Baby girl. I was raised by a hard man But a hard man who loved women A hard man who loved his women His wife. His mother. His sisters and his daughters. I was raised by a man that taught me to stand tall not like her father But like the woman she would become I was raised by a man that taught me to reason. To think. To question authority if need be. Go out into the world, baby girl, and live. Be who you are even when that's not enough for your crush next door. Because at the end of the day, The Sun will set And the Moon will rise

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Jul 26, 2017

Jul 26, 2017 at 2:05 AM UTC

Vows for my Daughter

And to you, my child I cannot promise you the world Nor a string of jewels to wear on your neck or even money But I can offer you my love A love so great with the magnitude of black holes Not just the cool ones in your science books But the ones that swallow entire planetary systems and clusters of stars I can't promise you much, baby girl But I can promise you that you'll never ask yourself if someone loves you You'll never wonder if there's a point to life You'll never doubt your worth Baby girl. I was raised by a hard man But a hard man who loved women A hard man who loved his women His wife. His mother. His sisters and his daughters. I was raised by a man that taught me to stand tall not like her father But like the woman she would become I was raised by a man that taught me to reason. To think. To question authority if need be. Go out into the world, baby girl, and live. Be who you are even when that's not enough for your crush next door. Because at the end of the day, The Sun will set And the Moon will rise

24

If I were to do it all again I'd tell my mother that I was sorry I'd tell my brother that I love him And I'd tell my best friend that Maybe the skirt was a little too short for brunch with the parents I'd tell my sister that I wish I had an ounce of her integrity I'd thank my coach for believing in me I'd kiss my teacher on both cheeks For not leaving me in the hallway crying I'd thank her for being my only friend for almost an entire year I'd thank her for carrying me on her shoulders for so long But most of all I'd thank her for letting go at the right moment If I were to do it all again I'd be more honest Not blunt. Because blunt is uncompromisingly forthright And I, for one, give a **** If I were to do it all again I'd understand that in order to get to "success" I'd have to climb the thousand feet tall ladder called "fear" If I were to do it all again I'd jump out of the plane on two Because people hold on to the edges at three If I were to do it all again... Man I'd be at the top of that ladder

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Jun 1, 2017

Jun 1, 2017 at 12:14 AM UTC

Do-Over

If I were to do it all again I'd tell my mother that I was sorry I'd tell my brother that I love him And I'd tell my best friend that Maybe the skirt was a little too short for brunch with the parents I'd tell my sister that I wish I had an ounce of her integrity I'd thank my coach for believing in me I'd kiss my teacher on both cheeks For not leaving me in the hallway crying I'd thank her for being my only friend for almost an entire year I'd thank her for carrying me on her shoulders for so long But most of all I'd thank her for letting go at the right moment If I were to do it all again I'd be more honest Not blunt. Because blunt is uncompromisingly forthright And I, for one, give a **** If I were to do it all again I'd understand that in order to get to "success" I'd have to climb the thousand feet tall ladder called "fear" If I were to do it all again I'd jump out of the plane on two Because people hold on to the edges at three If I were to do it all again... Man I'd be at the top of that ladder

24

Where do you see yourself in fifty years? I have absolutely no ******* idea. I don’t. I really don’t and for the longest time I thought that was something to be ashamed of. It probably still is but I certainly am no longer on that boat. I can tell you where I would want to be, if that makes it any better… The proper or more common way to answer this would probably be to describe my future employment of choice or the amount of little Julie’s and Tommy’s I plan on having around the kitchen table. Yeah, that would be ideal but then again, there is no substance in that. There is no honesty in that type of answer, only social norm. Or our need to go against it. In fifty years, I hope to be sane. I hope to have developed the capability of living with my sins and not let my anger and poor decision crowd my mind. I hope to see that behind every stupid act I’d done in the past, were hidden good intentions and not just a broken window where the frigid wind of teen rebellion would flow through. I hope to be able to sit on my front porch, watch my grand-Julie’s and Tommy’s run around freely, knowing that the life they have is much better than the one I wanted. In fifty years, hopefully, I’ll have learned that grey hairs don’t mean wisdom but experience. That instead of guidelines to live by, I’ll have stories to share. I hope that my skin will have become creased with tall tales like a vase molded by life’s hands. In fifty years, I hope to be young. To be filled with vibrant energy and to resonate love. I hope not to be the answer to problems, but a set of hands that’ll hold a loved-one when nothing can be done because that is when we truly need saving. In fifty years, oh, how I will have lived. I will have fulfilled my most wanted wish from childhood. In fifty years…I will have lived.

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Nov 22, 2016

Nov 22, 2016 at 1:11 AM UTC

Essay Question #1

Where do you see yourself in fifty years? I have absolutely no ******* idea. I don’t. I really don’t and for the longest time I thought that was something to be ashamed of. It probably still is but I certainly am no longer on that boat. I can tell you where I would want to be, if that makes it any better… The proper or more common way to answer this would probably be to describe my future employment of choice or the amount of little Julie’s and Tommy’s I plan on having around the kitchen table. Yeah, that would be ideal but then again, there is no substance in that. There is no honesty in that type of answer, only social norm. Or our need to go against it. In fifty years, I hope to be sane. I hope to have developed the capability of living with my sins and not let my anger and poor decision crowd my mind. I hope to see that behind every stupid act I’d done in the past, were hidden good intentions and not just a broken window where the frigid wind of teen rebellion would flow through. I hope to be able to sit on my front porch, watch my grand-Julie’s and Tommy’s run around freely, knowing that the life they have is much better than the one I wanted. In fifty years, hopefully, I’ll have learned that grey hairs don’t mean wisdom but experience. That instead of guidelines to live by, I’ll have stories to share. I hope that my skin will have become creased with tall tales like a vase molded by life’s hands. In fifty years, I hope to be young. To be filled with vibrant energy and to resonate love. I hope not to be the answer to problems, but a set of hands that’ll hold a loved-one when nothing can be done because that is when we truly need saving. In fifty years, oh, how I will have lived. I will have fulfilled my most wanted wish from childhood. In fifty years…I will have lived.

7

When I was a kid I spent time alone Probably more than my fair share But it wasn't bad at first It was liberating. At first, I discovered myself I discovered the universes that existed At the pinpoint of my imagination A true world of wonders I remember tiny snippets of freedom Long walks in the park with my hands tucked into my pockets, Or my hair getting soaked from the rain when I'd walk home Back then "on my own" was somehing I fancied Like a childish crush Where I only wanted it because, Hell. It made me feel good It made my heart pound When I could spend just a second listening to my breath But now. I've learned the consequences The damage I've done to myself From spending that much time Alone.

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Apr 1, 2016

Apr 1, 2016 at 11:49 PM UTC

Alone

When I was a kid I spent time alone Probably more than my fair share But it wasn't bad at first It was liberating. At first, I discovered myself I discovered the universes that existed At the pinpoint of my imagination A true world of wonders I remember tiny snippets of freedom Long walks in the park with my hands tucked into my pockets, Or my hair getting soaked from the rain when I'd walk home Back then "on my own" was somehing I fancied Like a childish crush Where I only wanted it because, Hell. It made me feel good It made my heart pound When I could spend just a second listening to my breath But now. I've learned the consequences The damage I've done to myself From spending that much time Alone.

23

Out there. It's not filled with traps waiting for you to step outside It's not a war zone where new experiences are no man's land Where our curiosity is the very pin to the grenade Out there is where we were meant to be Where we were meant to live The real hazard is comfort The danger zone where familiar awaits your white flag Familiar will see you crawl in the mud Familiar will let you walk out the with the target on your back It will suffocate you with certainty In hopes of making you forget the hysteria that is your mind

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Jan 22, 2016

Jan 22, 2016 at 11:15 PM UTC

Outside the box

Out there. It's not filled with traps waiting for you to step outside It's not a war zone where new experiences are no man's land Where our curiosity is the very pin to the grenade Out there is where we were meant to be Where we were meant to live The real hazard is comfort The danger zone where familiar awaits your white flag Familiar will see you crawl in the mud Familiar will let you walk out the with the target on your back It will suffocate you with certainty In hopes of making you forget the hysteria that is your mind

12