#self-centered
for those whose mothers are no more
the annual business hype of what to give
and where to take your mother
is but a sad remembrance of loss
stirring up memories of happier times
when she was still a pillar in your universe
loved and revered, and sometimes feared,
who taught you, patiently or not,
the basics of survival in your expanding world.
She knew, while you were as yet unaware
that all her loving preparations
would over time mean separation.
When you struck out to shape your life
all by yourself and left her with her fears for you,
her wishes, and the hopes that what she tried
to give you was enough and right,
your heart and mind were elsewhere, far away,
focused upon the future of your independent life.
Your years run fast and busy, and suddenly one day
you stand before her coffin
and discover that it is too late
for all the questions never asked.
What you have left are memories
and a vague sense of having missed the chance
to see - and maybe even understand a little -
the woman she has also been
throughout her life, behind her loving face
of a dear mother’s care and grace.
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 7:25 PM UTC
strange that my
self-will and self-centered fear
had to be emptied
before I could be filled by
a Loving Power
I did not surrender,
because I was so spiritual
but I had no where else to turn.
the gift of desperation was truly grace, a free gift, but in the moment I only saw it as a curse.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 8:14 AM UTC
I'm sick and tired
Of me, me, me, all the time;
I want some of You.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 2:25 AM UTC
Blister bites
Beneath the skin
Of conflict wars
In ignorance
The border die
Was fixed at six
Symmetrical
To wilful sin
Change and change
Won’t come
Without collapse
Your lips
Your breath
Come without cracks and gasps
Your eyes
Your tears
Come without dust and fear
There’s something
Amiss
With the land we’re living in
Can’t quite
Place my
Ignorance on it
I once saw a man
Blended into the night
With a tarnished can and a sign
But everyone walked on by
I once saw a child
Work to death in the sun
With a knife and a gun
Against his back
First world?
Third world?
We live in the same world . . .
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
They give you more love than me
because they know you need the encouragement
and I'm fine all alone.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC