Mum I love you,
More than I can say,
And more than I can do,
I cannot live a day
Without seeing you,
Without giving you
My morning Kiss,
Without holding you
Around my arms,

You where the one,
That took care of me,
That listened to me,
You where my only friend
When I had none,
You where the one
That mended my heart,
When it was broken,

So I thank you Mum
For being the best one !

To them, you're just a somebody
But to me, the way you love me unconditionally
It makes me so happy

Cause I know I can depend on you
You will always know what's true
Because it's you
You know when i'm feeling blue
I'm sorry for the pain and sufferings I've caused you
But I know you'll still be here

Thank you for being more than just a mother
You became a nurse (literally), our guide and the best teacher
Thank you for enduring the pain of being away
Just to make us stay
To the very school we wanted to be everyday
No one can ever be greater than you
Because to us
You are the elite! You are the best of the best!

We love you Mama! :D

mother
a simple word
complicated meaning

They say poetry is a way to explain the unexplainable
So here I go:

No words
No poem
No gifts

will ever fully show
my gratitude
my love
for you

But every year I try for you

Why?
Because I love you.

My mother
Amma

They carried us
Through gestation,
Or adopted
Without hesitation.
Our coming
Was a celebration,
Mothers are our affirmation.
They deliver.

When we were quiet
From travails,
She made time
For school-yard tales.
The warmth of sunshine
Shyly pales
To her prevailing arms.

They nurtured us
Til eyes dried out;
Cried alone
When we left
The house;
They waited by the door,
Like a living cure.

When Moms do well
All can tell
The madonna like connection:
No need to forgive them,
Will always grieve them;
They've loved us
Since conception.

I emerge at the calm before the storm
where they can't reach me by the quake
anymore.
Before the plunge I am unwithered and unworn
calling Mother at the folds where it was torn.

Cast as foetus and bag of stone
I am pulled down into a blend of effulgence
and the lungs linger in my mouth
before settling for breath between the bones;
marked by nascence and polished.

Held in an agitation of hands I am lifted
onto the summit of all things,
and she cries at the final separation
of our veins,
of our beings.

If I had a mom
I will, on this day, write her a poem
But she is been long gone
Suffice it to say, in the stock of moms
She is certainly the best of them all.

My first song
And my first love
My first breath
And my first step

When the world disappeared
She was the one that was there
When everyone was gone
She was the one that said "no need to be alone"

If the world were a gift store
A mother is the best thing in stock
The gift of a mother
Is like being given the whole of Hawaii in a gift wrapper.

Though my mom is gone
This is my most happy poem
So if you still have a mom
Do your most to show her love
The value of what you have is best known when it is gone.

My late mom and the moms in the world
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY with much love.

I remember the solid feel of your arms
and soft, papyrus skin pressed
against mine; encompassing all that
has and will happen.

Here in our circle, I turn
and slip and slide and slither
out, away and onto something new,
whilst your arms always remain open.

Forging young paths with new steps
splashing not lightly, causing tsunamis
with every decision made and regretted,
life lived and loved apart from you.

But there's a link inscripted in our DNA,
genes linking genes and laughter
across seas and silences and solitude
always, you stick with me.

Your eyes braced, lips ready to smile,
upright you keep your chin.
I think of you and pray one day
to be half the person you've been.

There are times when the pain is too much.
There are times when we would do anything for a way out.
When we would drown ourselves
in the middle of a drought just so we
wouldn't have to be thirsty again.
We sometimes have to remind ourselves
that we are not alone.
Not yet.

There are times when I bet my soul on three lies told.
And even though I won,
I was payed back in fool's gold.
We grow up never thinking that 'up' means old.
We are not alone
and our paths have been walked before.
What is left in store for us
as we ride this tour bus to hell
is the burnt-out car frames of those
who didn't do quite as well

Father Time continues to soldier ever forth
and sometimes what we want is south
and what we need is north.
But I'm telling you that if you think
that you are the first, you are not.
You came from the smallest dot and now
you are a monument to those who came before.
You are a masterpiece created beyond compare,
built in the image of those who's blood you share.
Those who care in a way no one else ever will.

So next time you are in pain, remember,
you are not a waste.
You are an imprint left by two people
that will one day longer be here.
As the seasons change, realize,
there will soon be a year when
our fathers will die.
When we will be made to walk on our own
without knowing why.

So when the ground starts to eat at you,
pulling you down with a force so strong
that you don't even try to fight it,
let your monuments stand and know that they are not alone.
Because we all must return to the earth,
in one form or another.
So honor them while you still have them,
be they your Father
or your Mother.

The day of what once was yours and will forever be read with your voice.

"Did you actually kiss her? Get me a diet Pepsi. Or l,the occasional. Don't be a *******." These are the words that resound love through the drywall heart I have here. This is only the second time I have thought About you. On this day. Well this is the second day of you being gone. It's so much easier believing you only leave once a year. Imagining 364 other days of disappearance melts my shins into crayons splattered on ***** carpets. That ***** impossible to get out. I got some new shoes and I would love to show you. They have helped me walk since you left. My knees are doing okay. It's the inners that don't always stand as tall as they should. My spine curves into a mended embroidered heart with broken springs  .... I really love the idea. I am not good with
seeing, but I would love to tell you that home is where the heart is... That your heart is home with me. Because if my heart is found in jack in the boxes, full of energy entwined with extra stitching and barrel rolls stuffed with memories I can't keep in my glove. Then you equipped me with metal braced joints grinding on friction laced sinews, connected with everything I thought was suppose to be true. Home is intentional. Define your existence and discover the purpose of trusting intangible options slanted between us. I trust you. I always have. The reality is that my cylindrical box of chest bones locked in a cage understands  power. Power enough to tie my shoes. I want you to know how  my shoes handle okay without you. I'm here. Writing, about you and that one day. This Mother's Day I want you to realize that you're day will be here. I'll find you in ***** sea water, dropping out of the last day of college, and chasing that perfect woman. You showed me it. Everything. Lets sleep dark concepts and understandably crossed with altered mentalities. The sun, that's where you started, please stay with me here. We will get warm soon. We are on a crooked edge of the universe wondering how to exist. We are here and now. You showed me how to be here. Because without here your love would have never existed. Here is where everything needs to be.