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Zac Shawhan Sep 10
Is it another year so soon?
My little man, my dear big boy
as time goes on it begins to wound
yet still there remains a lasting joy.
Surprise hugs and silly kisses
shrink my world to you and I
and time’s wounding power decreases
as you teach me to deny
all I have and all I desire
to give it up, to self forget.
This is a truth that reaches higher,
to become content as vignette
Son’s third birthday
thomezzz Aug 6
As a woman, I have always
felt the pressure to procreate.
And if I succeed,
well, I better be the best mother I can be.
But what if, I’m scared
Of the pressures of social media.
That the moms that populate the page
will always be better than me.
That I may spread
my infected genes.
That maybe, right now, the world is
just a scary place to be.
But what if, I decide
to do things for me?
Does that deserve
to be guilty?
Jade Jul 21
You ask me if I’m okay
And I want to yell at you,

To tell you how I sat up at night
And counted the lights in other buildings,
Just to know I wasn’t the only one alive.
To tell you that sometimes when I see you
I want to punch you in the face
Since we’re starting to look so similar.
To tell you how when my mind wants to hurt me
It uses your voice.
To tell you how you peeled off my skin
And made me dance through flames.

And of course I don’t.

Because I know you did your best.
Maybe not my best poem, but I guess I needed to get it off my chest.
TJ King Jun 22
"Metaphors are Dangerous"
is something my mother said
To me recently while hovering breathless above
her calendar; waiting carefully between the spaces of functions, appointments, and birthdays. Blank.

I asked her why she had me.
What became of my first calendar,
my genesis, the foretelling of my arrival?

What was "god's plan" for that lifeless heap of events she threw away in an afternoon, after everything within it either happened or didnt? Was it whisked away to trash island, with the other spent husks that had the audacity of limited use?

Does it still exist?
Stained and useless, wretched paper
sprawled out in the sun. Has it been completely reformed? Sent out as several paper cups, a newspaper,  a birthday cap, a kite?

What would god think of "used" calendars? Would he? When he reached our day of being in the cosmos, did he look at us and say "you will be used or you will be nothing" and pin us to the wall? A useful but temporary tool?

Why do we begin something at all? Why must we blow the balloon up just to let it go? Is it still a "balloon" when it's lying limp in a stranger's field a mile away?

In my mother's silence I knew she had no answer for me, except that "metaphors are dangerous" as her hands full of paper-cuts flattened the page.
Carlo C Gomez May 22
to be your
all webs
and legs
and tasty things
in the parlor
and then when
the eggs
hatch away
it's curtains for
you and me
I asked my dad to lend me one of his hats
I got Booked for a part in a popular tv show as a field worker
How about that?
It’s perfect. That’s where I come from
In the early morning hours he stopped by my home and left me one of his favorite sombreros and a small lemon cake
The memories lemon cake brings are bittersweet
Years ago, when I was a kid and I was too high, lemon cake was the only thing I could eat
Now it’s the life I grow inside of me’s favorite treat
Feelings that a lemon cake could bring
Are tangy but sweet
Like my adolescence
I take a bite and memories surrender
And they’re welcomed,
I’m grateful to be able to remember
Where I come from.
Kim Feb 13
I know you don’t want to hear it
But one day you WILL
look up and think,
“****** Mom”
And then notice the rose-gold
Of a sunset

Just like I’m
Always taken by surprise
At how your eyes
Can change from green
to dusty gold then blue
Depending on the hue
Of your plain olive
or blue H & M T-shirt

I know you don’t want to hear it
But you will take that hike one day
With one or two or three
Progeny in tow and go
“Wow, inhale that smell”
Of wet outdoors and nature and life

Just like I inhale the boyness of you
Before you become a man
The spicy alcohol of cologne hiding
The musk of undone laundry maybe
The sweat, excretion of locker room,
Football, or track exertion

I know you don’t want to hear
About the birds and the bees,
Sticking your head out the truck window,
“Mom, please!”
But one day she’ll come for your heart

Just like you came for mine
that morning you were born
The first,
Finding myself,
Discovering the nurture,
Realising the impatience,
Encountering the unconditional love,

The second,
Oh, the second,
Sheer bliss,
For a while,

The third,
Mastered it!,
Yeah, right,
No instruction manual,
Complexity in full swing....

(C)  13/01/2020
Parenthood, at its best.... And worst...
This could be applied to several facets in life, I guess
Psychostasis Dec 2019
Sometimes I see my past in your present
The twinkling eyes with each smile that radiates a room
The disappointment in self each lecture and post tantrum
I get scared about that sometimes because I want you to be better than me

But then I remember that people aren't "better" or "worse" than one another
And I shouldn't expect something I don't personally believe in
To apply to any situation
Let alone to you

So I struggle between

Raising you around your happiness, because I want you to have what I couldn't so ******* bad

Raising you with discipline, for the most righteous fist is the one that holds back when it isn't needed

Raising you as carefully as if we called a claymore mine home, and walked a driveway of tripwires

I parent in a tip-toe style
Hoping the foot prints I leave for you aren't too large for you to be unable to fill
While simultaneously hoping you don't follow them too closely
Or even that if you do, you won't be afraid to stray the path

I want you to be a great person
By your own volition
And sometimes I feel like I influence you too much
But you're still only a child
And have much to learn
And I as your humble caretaker, teacher, and protector
Really wish I knew exactly what the lesson plan you need is
But until I know what to do
I'll continue to try my hardest for you
Until the day my heart stops,
My teeth shatter like frozen tissue paper
And my last breathe and effort dissipates into the clarity you'll need when you need it.
Dani Dec 2019
There's this weight I carry
It's heavy and exhausting
It's beautiful, and quite daring

It yanks me down more times than I can count
Squeezes, punches, and pushes every last nerve
But it's perfect on every account

It's the hardest, most difficult weight I've ever carried
Full of kicks and screams and fits
But it's something I refuse to burry

I could walk away and live a different life
I could be weightless and free
But this weight is worth more than my own life

So I will pull it up over ranges of mountains
I will piggy back it over every raging sea
And if anyone tries to harm it, I would **** thousands

It's the most precious cargo I could ever own
It's the only I can ever have
So I choose to carry it and to never be alone

For its weight brings me great joy
And the warmth is overwhelming
So I hold tight and hold strong and enjoy

For the terrain will mellow down
And it will not always be this heavy
So this weight I hold with love, and in it I drowne.
Single Parenthood.
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