the heat of her breath on my arm
as she sleeps is my world, personified.
my sun, and moon, and stars rapidly
expanding beyond the limits
of any love I'd ever believed was mine.

I love you son
Like no one else
Only you and I
Verified love personified
Every single
Moment I'm with
You, I feel that love
Sensing you feel it too
Only a mother's love
Nourishes your soul

A man
Protruding in the field
Standing in damp grass
A marshy meerkat
Alert sentry towards the sun
Eyes wide catching rhythms
Of the changing times
Of the passing seasons

Similar to this

A cat
rigid black and short haired
Let out of the house for the first time
Finding a spot
Between roots and mulch
Curled eternally  
Once playful
At permanent rest
Connected to the changing seasons
Signaling grave times

Both lost to progress
And disconnected from nature
Each making their return
to the flow of things


Despite unfortunate timings
And with all the wrong places to be born
The mother takes them both as they are
Grateful for her children returning
Pleased she kept the place inviting
And the hearth burning

“Come, take my hand
Put you feet in the soil,
say goodbye, and let it all go.
The earth will catch your tears
Bring them back to sky and
they will grow new innocents.
You will know peace
and be forgiven”

You were born on August the 2nd of 1948.
Your death was sad and hard to contemplate.
Today would've been your birthday but you didn't survive.
If you hadn't died, today you would've turned seventy-five.

Your death was a very painful thing that I was forced to experience.
It was hard to accept your demise because it ended your existence.
You gave money to the homeless because you loved to give.
You were the greatest mother on the planet while you lived.

It was so sad to learn that you were going to die.
And it was very painful when I had to say goodbye.
I wanted you to survive but I didn't get my way.
You were my mom and I wish you a happy birthday.

Deceivingly simple, we sit down
On our ****** plastic step stools
After school in the kitchen.
You ask me how my day was. I say
Fine thanks, learned about quadratics.
I ask you where you went cycling. You say
Oh, you know, the usual. Round out
That way, and back. The usual.
We sit in silence for amount as I cut a slice of apple and hold it out to you across the room.
You take it, and we sit on our ****** plastic step stools
In the kitchen after school,
Sharing silence and an apple.
And I almost love the crisp, cool crunch
As much as I love you.

sat on a park bench at noon
he dressed early charity shop
other people had already made
his fashion decisions for him
cast aside like they cast aside
his son, his visits less and less
frequent now, his name is
uttered as a mere whisper
except in anger and in war
he has less strength than when
faith supported his mental health
shouted from the fortress pulpit,
blending in on the seedy side
of life where the real people are
when asked about the second
coming, he said I gave you all
free will and look what you did
tell me, would you send your
only son to a God forsaken
place like this AGAIN.

Come to me,
Oh look and see,
Please tell me that I don't belong.

To this place,
O' to this world,
To this situation I hath rote.

But negative,
Nay I say,
Tis a situation so grand,
That it can be only sung out in the tongue of yore,
For it is only the most noble of mantles,
Of Fatherhood's door I adorn.

It shall be I,
I be armed with simple tools,
A fresh ***** or bottle,
To assuage my young liege lord's woes,
For betwixt the soggy ure or rancid scitan,
I dread knowing such knowledge,
But my sacred duties of ****** I shan't ignore.

So for now,
Oh humble bards and wanderers,
Listen to this tale no more,
Create such joy and celebration,
For upon this day,
My Firstborn son is born.

Time ticking down,
Like the guttering of a dying flame,
So close,
Can nearly taste,
Where you and me will soon be three,
When our son we can finally meet.

I can picture his little hands,
His oh-so little feet,
Eyes as big as plates,
So filled with possibilities and innocence,
A pitcher for you and me to fill,
With kindness and glee.

But it seems so far away,
Still seems like a bit of a dream,
That the hypothetical seems to still carry me,
On a cloud,
Gently floating,
On an azure dream.

the sun comes at night
the son is a holy fount
electric shakespeare