#mothering
every night my heart breaks
as i lay this new day to rest
and with it,
this new her—
new
for a moment and gone
in an instant
i remember when it was us
and life moved through me
into her,
and the portal into other realms was
open
as synapses fired and gathered
her soul
and now—
she belongs to the world
as much as i do;
the trees,
the oceans,
the embers,
the wind—
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 8:40 PM UTC
Two winters ago I would chain-smoke spirits on my way to work in the early mornings;
windows down, blueish fingertips,
driving through the gunks into the sunrise, Leonard Cohen on repeat—
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel
I would drive home much the same way, sometimes going the long way
to catch the sunset;
my sunless days, nestled between 4 stiff walls
The world was grey;
grey pavement
grey skies
grey walls
grey smoke
It must be this way forever, I thought.
that February was the coldest month I remember being alive—
This year the windows are up, the sun is bright, I keep my car
warm.
In the passenger seat;
a bag of sweet sesame rice crackers, an apple, lime seltzer, a little jacket, my journal, tiny socks—
I reach my hand in the backseat
when Winona cries,
let her wrap her tiny fingers
around my thumb, "I'm here,
sweet girl"
I pull into a park on
the river— we get out
watch the trees
sway, the breeze
paints our faces rose, we
orient ourselves in this
big, unfamiliar
world. she reaches her hand
out as if to grab the falling leaves, a
wonderous look on her soft face—
she smiles,
she touches my face,
just months old and she knows
my voice
she knows
my safety—
for a moment,
nothing else exists,
the world doesn't know
we're here—
for a moment, it's just us,
like it was in that hospital room
not too long ago
for a moment, there is
peace—
I wonder if I'll remember this
in 60 years,
when both our hands
will have wrinkled, mine more
than hers; when crows' feet
ordain our eyes;
when I've lived my life, and she's
well into hers. I know
she won't remember,
I hope I do—
May 21, 2025
May 21, 2025 at 9:17 PM UTC
I chew my lips and taste the blood.
Every day
My “black mother of a black baby”
rage bubbles like the worts
my lover brews
on dark rainy nights,
when he can no longer sleep or dream.
Another child murdered
at the hands of wild hogs
repeating on our screens—
Their screams keep me up all night
and beat me back down;
as the sun rises,
I boil, then still—
A hot bath of Skunky American brew.
Will my daughter ever know justice?
Or will she sit uncomfortably with the
rank taste of inequity and iron
on her lips too? I refuse to
Go down without a fight because
with trust in her heart she leans
into MY chest at night;
with fire in her eyes she reminds me
that one day she too will be ready to fight
this same fight
if it calls her.
Apr 10, 2025
Apr 10, 2025 at 1:37 PM UTC
a ray of light in my eye and
the living Word on my lap
a cup of milk in his hands
and the look of a loving mother
gazing upon the essence of her son.
Sep 24, 2024
Sep 24, 2024 at 2:32 PM UTC
_...back broken...
...divinely kneeling...
...mending reflections...
...feeling the delusion...
...waging a war...
...fuelled by resentment...
...old wounds distance me...
...soft tissue...
...neatly hidden...
...from mothering..._
☟
_...withdrawing criticism...
...that’s all it takes...
...without shame...
...of surrender...
...open the door...
...feel the longing...
...take the brave step...
...with you unafraid...
...all my intricate defences...
...would be taken away..._
Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 10:01 PM UTC
Genesis.
born from your rib
an extension of you.
mother, multiplied.
VIII, III, I
the second coming was born
and then she grew,
older, wiser, more curious.
touching and eating –
things which i shouldn’t have
get your hands out from there
i felt too much, too soon
perhaps this is my original sin.
and what does a sinner deserve,
but punishment.
but lashings of the tongue, acidic
enough to break down the grime,
which you accumulated in your sleep.
until one day you shall wake,
your curious fingers extended,
extending an olive branch
for whom is so cold that they’re
left un-seduced by sour grapes?
let the limbs into your mouth.
let the salt wash over you
cleansing, those lashing-wounds
not healed, as of yet
but creating the stench of fresh blood,
no more.
May 17, 2020
May 17, 2020 at 12:47 PM UTC
Act Your Age
Im not your child
Your not my Mother
Stop Mothering Me
Im not 5
i dont need your supervision
Nor Permission to do as i please.
Stop Mothering me.
Act Your Age
Your not 20
You cannot tell me what i can and cant do
Who i can or cant be
Or enforce __Anything__
On me
Just
__Stop__ Mothering Me
Just _Please_
Be my friend
Thats the only thing
You can be
For me
or
You can leave
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 10:17 PM UTC
How do I convince you to love me?
I can make you tea and cookies
Or maybe mac and cheese
I can learn a song for you when you're feeling blue
I can kiss your neck and whisper why I want to be with you
I can wash your sheets and make your room neat
I can make your favorite snack
And if I do these things for you
Will you love me back?
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
They tell you congratulations
And you'll think it's all smiles
They will tell you its joy and pride
They don't tell you
That your life has now changed
That your priorities have now changed
That your freedom is now gone
That your independence is now gone
That you're now confined at home
That you're never getting enough sleep
At least not any time soon
They don't tell you
That there are times you will join in the crying
Because you won't know why or how to make it stop
That there are times you'll get angry
Because you can't get them to sleep
That there are times you'll struggle to stay up
Because your sleep schedule is not yours anymore
That you'll probably panic everytime something is wrong
That you're gonna go to bed very tired
Because taking care of that tiny human is exhausting
And everything they need is your responsibility
They tell you welcome to motherhood
That it's is an amazing experience
Yes it is, yes it is
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 3:37 AM UTC
An Irish couple buy some fertilised duck eggs and they hatch.
But then they’re missing!
The cat is licking her lips.
Oh No!
They follow the cat to her snug in the barn.
She too has given birth.
Snuggled beneath the cat’s protective paws
Are suckling kittens and DUCKLINGS!
Had those dear ducklings hatched an hour earlier
Or later
They would have been cat food.
But around the birthing time Missus Cat was only a Mother,
Mothering anything that moved.
Mother Nature breeds such Motherly instincts.
A thing of Wonder.
A story that happens to be True.
Since then those ducks grew up
But still followed their “Mother”
Everywhere she went (within reason).
An unshakeable bond,
Lasting for ever.
Paul Butters
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 5:49 AM UTC
▪○●☆●○▪
*memories still close
babies suckled from my *******
so dear and tender*
▪○●☆●○▪
Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC