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Zywa 2d
Mum wants me happy,

it's her misfortune I'm not –

Dagboek “Allesverpletterende – Faxen aan Ger” (Diary “All-crushing – Faxes to Ger”, 2019, Nicolien Mizee)

Collection "Out of place"
There's something unsettling
about this feeling of loving hopelessly.

My toes
are constantly ready to push off and
dive into a pool that's empty.
It holds no water or promise,
but I get up and jump
again and again.
This is what  reparable souls are made of
Magic, drunken thoughts, and bravery all wrapped in delicate skin.

My mother has warned me
of this feeling before.
and how it ends in tissues and stitches.
But I call her and urge her indiscretion
to my father and her emotions.

I crave the feeling of feeling stuck in your gut,
where your body aches but it’s
wrapped in silk sheets.
that consume my mind wholly, constantly, agonizing and yet
I stand on the diving board
ready to crash again.
mother you give me freedom to seek for truth and so, life is an adventure in the forest
you guided my step to the outside of this forest and seek for better life

your the sunbeam of my cells, you the reason why my seed turn into blooming petal

now i seek the truth, you will always be remembered

- son.
my mother pass away due to car accident. and i dedicated this poem to my only mother, Maria.
With every long hair oil massages and
the long tea break on sunday evenings,
mother told me the stories that she lived,
rich with genres.
The ones with her siblings are my favorite,
but there are these little stories that she often repeats.
some brings a tear or two,
and she sips the tea and says what else she could have done other than accepting.
Even with the colorful, rich genres of stories, she never had a dream.
And everytime it makes me realize how much it means to have a dream.

-Gopika Krishna
I can't see my future, with my present sight, but mother says that I will be alright.

I have been skipping online classes as of late; assignments turned cold, piled up on my plate.

I am uncertain of what the future holds, certainly apprehensive of tomorrow.
Am I alone, in this regard?
Dakota May 27
Summer night,
The feeling’s right.
All through to daylight.

The morning’s plain.
All to noon,
When that scent comes back.

The smell of summer’s morning dew.
The smell of bacon.
The smell of Saturdays with mom.

Dad kisses goodbye,
Mom says hi.
And that sweet smell of summer’s morning dew.

All this time,
Spent with you.
And that smell of summer’s morning dew.
Karijinbba May 21
Cursing unprovoked
Repaying evil
for my good
Some story poems releasing
deep angered frustration
are also a part of
the healing process needed
   methods used by poets too

Pain is excruciating
without my loved little ones
my grown big ones around
The depth of emptiness pain is undescribable in words
Yet peaced, in honorable
Epic motherhood skills
Exercised with honors
I am the best mother for my children in the world and in general
I adore children respect boundaries
I don't care about my reputation arising from
how badly jealous enemies
have trash me a lifetime

I want enemies to know this;
It may seem that
your evil dividing plot
has broken us all up
But you can't really ever win
We remain blood
family we're stronger
than you all imagine
My grown daughters and me Mom
Bba AA and grandkids
We were brilliant enough
to have and to hold each other
all the days of our lives past
present and future.

We are mother and daughters!
In ways you can't imagine
Nor forever sabotage

We remain as one near or far
as one unit gene-pool.
in each others hearts
and with love
We remain unharmed

Such bond exist
no mater what calamities
Forever eternally
unbreakable we are!

You jealous thugs have nothing.
This purple heart Bba Mom
no matter how badly envied
and trashed by u ugly foe nagas,
never gives up loving, caring
understanding ancient
family's values triumphed
weaved with patience joys heart
and great courage
Past and present
My family fame is ours no matter
the defeat implied
by you heartless
Snakes in our paradise
Your hate crime won't prevail.

All you sociopathic imposters
Filling up your empty cradles
buying my gown daughters,
assimilating them
aided by human predators
Greek poisoners
using fraudulent birth
Certificates to own
My Lala-E Sassy-R Coco-J
Oh how I can read
your twisted minds.
Bunch of sterile anacondas.
Cowards hate crime foes.

I know your filthy methods
covertly unbeknownst to
My beautiful grown kids
drugging them to conjure.
a need for your possessive
handicap cares offered

Your sick behavior entails
old psychopathic tendencies
your mental illness
I give you ten traits
of narcissist personality.
May you all rot in hell
for your hate crime
against me
Being ever on to me
since 1983.
Cursed may you all evildoers be

Free my grown children
They belong to my heart
Not your greed
Cursed be you all ugly Raitanos
Elz-W, He-ry & your ex hater
brainless sterile serpent nurse
May you all  meet a most
untimely painful
End along your evil skims
for attacking me Mom
I never harmed
anyone not you
much less my kin
So shame on you.
By Karijinbba
All Rights reserved
My children iI love you from your birth until eternity beyond the end of time
Love your Mother Angelina..que Bba.
Thomas Mackie May 19
Bitter, sour, barely sweet,
when I was in your tummy,
you craved that acidic fruit,
and even though we've since leaned towards
different suns and
it's still my favorite.

Your twisted seed,
what has become of me?

Growing up your love was a grapefruit.
Pulpy, complex cuts, precision with a tiny knife.
It left a sting on my lips,
but it fed me,
and it gave me vitamins and it was
This morning as I consume these two halves I think of us.

Duplicate cells, my pink flesh and thick skin and
biting taste, all from you.
Both of us hollowed out and squeezed until we have nothing left to give, but we're still
bright yellow on the outside.
A poem for my mom
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