Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
tlkPoems
hands at ears hair splayed screaming the baby copying her tears snot streaming is how I remember her always have always will gripped with need for some small pill or syringe or--- I'm holding her mother's hand, and -- lying -- Say that I loved her more as she was dying. Ignoring the cause, ignoring my guilt Boarding up the windows with the view I built. We're crazy paving, joined together. Hands all linked in forgetting whether We were the cause of the start, the end, Or the middle, where she showed that she would tend-- Maybe our actions sped her up, catalysed? We do not ask. Our mouths all lie that we are surprised. ---she is pregnant hands encircling rich and fertile with a hidden promise boy or girl? We know now so we celebrate even though we had made a promise not to was that the start? The hardest question comes last, At last, "Will the baby remember her past? Yes, I say, from far away, We'll say a prayer on Mother's day. There will be a picture (blown-up huge), I'll ask who's that? She'll look up brightly from her activity mat-- I float away, mouth using persuasive platitudes, Telling them she will know her mother's multitudes, Wondering whether my memories can be falsified. Wondering whether I will remember that I lied. --I'm holding her mother's hand, and - lying - Say that I love her most now she is dead. I have fooled her, she looks down, sighing, But her father's red-rimmed eyes hold steady on my head.
0
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 4:59 PM UTC
hands at ears hair splayed screaming
hands at ears hair splayed screaming the baby copying her tears snot streaming is how I remember her always have always will gripped with need for some small pill or syringe or--- I'm holding her mother's hand, and -- lying -- Say that I loved her more as she was dying. Ignoring the cause, ignoring my guilt Boarding up the windows with the view I built. We're crazy paving, joined together. Hands all linked in forgetting whether We were the cause of the start, the end, Or the middle, where she showed that she would tend-- Maybe our actions sped her up, catalysed? We do not ask. Our mouths all lie that we are surprised. ---she is pregnant hands encircling rich and fertile with a hidden promise boy or girl? We know now so we celebrate even though we had made a promise not to was that the start? The hardest question comes last, At last, "Will the baby remember her past? Yes, I say, from far away, We'll say a prayer on Mother's day. There will be a picture (blown-up huge), I'll ask who's that? She'll look up brightly from her activity mat-- I float away, mouth using persuasive platitudes, Telling them she will know her mother's multitudes, Wondering whether my memories can be falsified. Wondering whether I will remember that I lied. --I'm holding her mother's hand, and - lying - Say that I love her most now she is dead. I have fooled her, she looks down, sighing, But her father's red-rimmed eyes hold steady on my head.
tlk
Written by
tlk
English
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 4:59 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem