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Aurora Apr 2011
Innocent giggles float around the house.
A child's laughter has no comparison.
A mother with her playful finger whispers
Come out Come out
wherever you
are.

The little girl's squeals get her discovered,
She's too excited too happy.
GOTCHA!
The mother and daughters relationship
is golden.

A daughter is hiding.
She's panting.
Nervous
Scared.

COME OUT! COME OUT!
WHEREVER
YOU ARE!


The daughter cries.
Her hiding place is discovered.
A child's whimper is like a whip
on a bare back.

We were so close.
Best friends.
Our bond is .. was golden.
Now it's rotten.

She use to look at her daughter with love.
Now, it's disgust, dislike, irritation.

Mother and daughter use to share everything.
Now, they barely speak.

Daughter loved her mom.
Now, she's confused.

Looking down at her mom's
body.
She no longer breathes.
She's in a sleep that she'll never
ever
wake up from.
The daughter accepts strangers sorry's.
Tears and emotions overwhelm her.
Why did their bond grow cold and sour?
She didn't know.
"I miss you mom." she whispered.
She watched as they lowered mothers body down
to the cold
hard
Earth.

Feelings of regret flood her vision, mind and soul.

"Mommy."
Daughter looks down at her own daughter,
she smiles.

No matter what.
No matter how hard.
No matter...
She'll never break her golden bond
with her baby girl.
Her daughter.
Aurora
ellis danzel Oct 2013
I am terribly sorry that I ran into you.   I can see that you are a bit puzzled because you think that you know me. Perhaps we have met a time or two or maybe every holiday last year, but I don’t blame you for forgetting. You see, I have changed…quite a bit and I can tell that you are very confused. It’s not the way you are looking at me or the way that I am looking at you, or the way that you are looking at me looking at you or the way that I am looking at you looking at me.  Wait, why are you looking at me? Oh yeah, you are probably wondering whether or not to ask me if I am that sweet little innocent queer barista at the nearby coffee shop down the street or the “****** up ****” that your daughter so disgustingly fell in love with during her crazy high school phase.  Yeah… that may or may not have been me. You know, you might want to tell your daughter to call me because she left some things at my house and I have been trying to get them back to her for years now.

Oh uh…Who am I you ask? It seems that you still aren’t following me. I mean my identity means nothing to you…or at least it shouldn’t, but I will try to enlighten in the best way that I can. You see, my identity has always been the person that you see before you. It’s just that for most of his life, he was trapped under the softly sweet smelling perfumes and make up that tortured him for a good solid 15 years.  His identity masked from everyone around him. The man you see before you is indeed the imaginary boyfriend that your daughter claimed to have all those years of middle school because she refused to bring him home for fear that her parents would call her a lesbian. He may or may not also be the “****” that you refused to acknowledge every night at dinner on every freaking holiday he was at your house every year during high school; Your daughter’s Lesbian friend that was conjoined to her hip 24/7. Little did you know, I was the boy she wanted to marry, the one and only person she ever felt loved her. He hid in plain sight for several years. Yet you never noticed. That is, until the night you caught us.

You see, I am not the Lesbian that converted your daughter. Or even the “****” that ruined her life. I am the boy who has always been by her side through everything. The man who promised to forever remain by her side, through whatever life tossed her way. I fell in love with her on the first day of 6th grade and I haven’t stopped loving her since. She will forever be the love of my life and….Wait why are you crying? I have some news that might cheer you up. You know that sweet boy that your daughter has been seeing, who she has refuses to bring to dinner? Yeah…you may or may not be looking at him. Let me introduce myself, I’m Aimes.
MalisterMikey Sep 2014
“Dance with me daughter of sin.”
“To see in my eyes, the light you have shined.”

“Come dance with me daughter of sin.”
“For our worries will fade on the magma floor.”
“While we dance to Hell's door.”
“We shall worry no more.”

“So come dance with me daughter of sin.”
“Do not be afraid to open your heart.”
“This will not be the end of our journey, I mark.”

“Please dance with me daughter of sin.”
“So I may bring you the joy I have felt.”
“Might our hands touch together and make us melt.”

“Dance with me daughter of sin”
“To see in my eyes, the light you have shined.”

“Come dance with me daughter of sin.”
“Your darkness washes, over my light.”
“I wish for us, to never fight.”

“So dance with me daughter of sin.”
“You will see things will be alright.”
“We shall dance through the night.
“Not worrying of hells might.”

“Just dance with me daughter of sin.”
“And I will show you, the way it feels, when the dark meets the light.”
“Your loneliness will not be missed.”
“Then you will know that, Darkness is Bliss.”
Dear Daughter can you hear me?
Dear Daughter can you hear me ?
I just wanted to say i love you
Dear Daughter I miss you
Dear Daughter I'm proud of you
I was proud when you were born
I was proud when you took your fist steps
I was proud when you spoke your first word
I was proud when you took your first steps
I was proud when you finished school
I was proud when you made me a grandfather
I wish I could be there in person when you get married
Dear Daughter I wish I was there
I see you struggling
I hear  you crying
I see you crying
I see you smiling
Dear Daughter can you hear me?
Dear Daughter  can you see me
Dear Daughter I'm always with you
Dear Daddy yes I can
THE RAT AND THE PREGNANT WOMAN


A story poem

BY

Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)



Dedicated to;
My mother Neddy Nabisino Mayende Kuloba Makhakara
And her mother Maritini Nabengele Nasenya Mulemia Namugugu Ilungu wa Wenwa.
The story telling power of these two ladies is the primary source of my passion and love for humorous and peace bettling stories. I owe them all the recognitions.







OPENING SONG
How do I start telling this story that I got from my
Grandmothers when sited around the fire yard in the evening?
I don’t know how to start surely,
For to day I am very shy; all of your eyes
Are on me, looking at me like ocean of looking organs
But let me embolden my self with the belt
Of a story teller that my grand father gave me
And commanded me to preach peace
Through story telling in every place I go
So my spiritual service to humanity is telling stories
Is to soothe and heal wounds of humanity
By softly telling peaceful stories
Let me then cough to clear my voice and start;

Long time ago, but not very long time
Some where between the centuries of twelve hundred
And seventeen hundred after the death of the other Jewish
Story teller who died without a wife, who died on the cross
But others say he died on the stake, his name was Jesus,
There existed only two kingdoms in land which is known today
As Bukusu land found in the present east Africa or Indian Ocean coastal Africa,
The first occupants of this vast land is the sons and daughters of Babukusu
Or the ones who like selling ironsmith products
And hence the name the people of Bukusu; the people who sell,
The two kingdoms were the Kingdom of muntu and the kingdom of manani
The citizens in the kingdom of muntu were short men and short women
Handsome and beautiful, slender and not assertive in their physical disposition
But the citizens of the kingdom of manani were all cyclopic,
In their everything; the manner of walking, talking farting, micturating
Farming, breathing, snoring, smiling, singing, whispering
Their whisper was a noisy as the tropical thunderclap
They were tall men and tall women, very tall
Their young person was as short as the tallest
Person in the kingdom of muntu,
When one of the citizen of manani snores
All the citizens of Muntu along together with,
Their king Walumoli wa Muntu had no option
But remain awake throughout the night,
Because the cacophony of a snore from
The sleeping courts of Manani was not bearable,

On many occasions Walumoli wa Muntu
The conscientious king of the muntu kingdom
Had arranged to talk to Silinki wa Namunguba
The ostensible king of the Manani Kingdom
About the cacophonous sleep robbing
Snores of daughters and sons in neighbour kingdom of Manani
Only to cow and chicken away in a feat of prudence
Lest Silinki wa Namunguba will suspect him for being
A night runner or a thief of *** perhaps
Who roams his compound during the wee of the night
In hunt of any of Namunguba’s wife maybe
Perchance having gone out for a mid-night *******,
This is how legendary snores of the sons and daughters
Of Silinki wa Namunguba the king of Manani
Has remained unchecked for ever till today,

One time an ugly passer by happened to be seen
Traversing the kingdom of muntu
In the early afternoon some two
Hours after Walumoli the king
Had just cleared the last plate
Of the mid day meal from
His last wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikaha Nobwoya
He always eats her food last in the afternoon
Because it comes on the table steaming youthfulness
He loves his Khatembete wife, the wife of his old age
The wife he married by use and show of the royal regalia
The powers and dignity of the king of muntu
He married her when he his a king, the scepter in his hand,

Going back to the ugly passer by
It was never known where he came from
Not from the east where the Indian Ocean is
Not from the west where the vastness of the land
Of black people of Baganda and Bacongo
Baigbo and Bayoruba or Bafulana of Nigeria
Or the sons of Madiokor Ngoni Diop in the Senegal,
Not from the south from shaka the Zulu and Mandella the wise one
Not from north in the land of Dinka and Nuer, Ethiopian Jewish and the Egyptians,
The passerby was ugly and from no where, in a dress and
A very ***** dress that fumed out a malodorously stenching reek
He was a man in attires of a woman; this was a taboo in the land of muntu
He was left handed and a heavy weight stammerer, with an appalling
Protuberation of   a hunched back, an enormous hunchback
Enmassing entired of his masculine shoulders,
When the wind blew his loose dress followed it
Leaving the man’s thighs and then bossom naked,
Leading bystanders to a strange discovery; he was not circumcised
He was old like any other father, he had beards
But not yet circumcised, his ***** ends in corkscrew of a sheath,
This was a taboo in the land of muntu, in the kingdom of muntu
Which Walumoli wa Muntu the son of Mukitang’a Mutukuika ruled
For the spirits, gods and ancestors as well as foremen of the kingdom
Behooved that all male offsprings of the kingdom of muntu
Whether born in marriage or out of the wedlock
Born the blood or born as a ******* must and must be
Circumcised in the early teen hood
They must be circumcised before they grow the hairs
On the face, on the chest, in the scapula and on the areas
Surrounding the testicles, the **** and the endings of the backbone,
The man again had six fingers on the legs and on the hands
He walks slowly like a porcupine, his dress was in tartars
He was violent to every one he met
Insulting old people and old women with words
Of bad manners not used in the kingdom of muntu,
He terrified and beat young children, including the royal children
And grand children of Walumoli the king of muntu
He again had to beat and chase nine young virgins
Who had come from the palace of Walumoli the king of Muntu
Away from the forest when they picking fire wood
As well as playing a game of hide and seek with other palace lads,
The ugly passer by then chased to get hold of the
Nalukosi the first born daughter of
Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikaha Nobwoya
The beloved last wife of the king of Muntu
All other virgins ran home, but Nalukosi remained behind
In the inextricable grip of the ugly passer by
She screamed with hysteria of a hypochondriac
She screamed and kicked with her wholesome mighty
The stubborn passer by never left her alone
She gnawed the ugly passer by with
Her girlish claws of her fingernails
But is like the passer by was mentally disordered
He was a ******* of some time
He derived some pleasure and instead
Enjoyed the girlish scratches of his captive,
Before the eight running virgins reached the palace
Together with their companions, the playmate lads
The shrilling scream of the captive Nalukosi
Was sharply heard at the palace, first by King Walumoli
Who called his wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikha Nobwoya
To come out of the hut, the kitchen and help to listen,
Immediately Mukisu wa Mujonji the palace keeper surfaced
His face displayed genuine askance of an adept military man
Whose martial arts have rusted for a week without usage
He confirmed to the king that the cry from the forest
Is of the one from this royal home of your majesty the king
And none other than the ****** princes Nalukosi Mukoyonjo
The pride of her father, the eye of the palace,
Without hesitation the king permitted the wallabying Mukisu ,
Permission to run in a military dint and find out whatever that
Was eating Nalukosi Mukoyonjo the familial heart of the king,
Mukisu wa Mujonji who was clearly known in the kingdom of muntu,
For his swift running like a desert kite, he already twice chased
And gotten single handedly two male gazelles,
Without aid of a dog nor aid of fellow hunters
And delivered them to the king as a present to the palace
Which he achieved because of the speed of his legs,
On this royal permission he unsheathed his matchette
And went away like any arrow from the bow
His shirt trailing behind him like mare’s tail
Or like the flag on the post on a windy day,
Not a lot of time passed.
Mukisu wa Mujonji is at the spot of struggle,
Between Nalukosi and the Ugly passerby
There was no question or talking,
The first thing was Mukisu to sink the Matchette
With all of his mighty into the tummy of the ugly stranger
The bowels of the ugly stranger opened puffwiiii!
He breathed and gasped twice then succumbed to death.
His grip still strong on the leg of Nalukosi Mukoyonjo
The ugly passer by reached the rigor Mortis
When Nalukosi was still strongly gripped in his
Beastly hand, Mukisu wa Mujonji with all the skills
Used a Sharp matchette again; chopped of the hand
Of the ugly dead passer by off, from its torso
At the point of the muscular elbow,
Now Nalukosi was extricated, but not fully
From the grip of the dead ugly stranger,
The chopped off hand is still knotted at her leg
Around her leg, the dead hand also grips.
Nalukosi jumped here and there to throw away
The leg and the dead hand, but it was not easy to throw
The hand still stubbornly gripped around her angle,
*** time passed, each and every one of the kingdom came
Including the king Walumoli wa Muntu himself
And his nine wives, Khatembete Khobwibo Khakhalikha Nobwoya
Came last, as she was energyless due to rudely shocking tidings
Which the escaping virgins and lads had given her
That the ugly passer by had turned into the ogre
And had swallowed her daughter Nalukosi
That he had swallowed her piecemeal without chewing,
People of muntu came and found the ugly passerby dead
The left had chopped off its torso
But still hanging loosely on the leg of Nalukosi
Nalukosi jumping, kicking, screaming
Screaming away the dead hand from the grip of leg
But nothing had forthcame her way,
Walumoli wa Muntu could not afford to see
The hand on the leg of her beloved daughter
What could he tell his wife, is your all know
Dear reader and audience to this song;
Even the mighty and the wise ones
Generously bend when under the pressure of love,
Out of this dint, even before Mukisu wa Mujonji
Could display his next military card
Walumoli wa Muntu grapped the dead hand
That stuck of the leg of her daughter
And pulled it with another force that
No man born of woman has
Never used since the creation of the earth
By the gods and spirits of Muntu,
The hand come off, he throw it
On the cadaver of the ugly stranger,
He clicked and clicked and hissed
With anger like a wild turkey
In the African thorny forest,
He ordered the dead one to be buried
Their without haste, nor ceremony
Mukisu wa Mujonji buried the body
Quickly in a brief moment with precision
As if he was taking notes
From the lines of the poem
OF Pablo Neruda on how
To bury a dog behind the house
This time burying an ugly stranger
Behind the forts of the kingdom,
After all these women, children and men
Of muntu plus their king Walumoli
Went back to their houses hilariously
Broken into a song and a wild *** dance;
Makoe eehe! Makoe !
Nifwe Talangi Makoe !
Talangi!
Khwaula embogo sitella
Nifwe Talangi!
They sang up to midnight before
They all retired to their beds
Respective beds with panting thoraces
From heavy singing and dancing.

There is connection and disconexion between
The living and the dead, the living fear the dead
And dead loves the living,
The dead want the company of the living
For the living to accompany in the land of the dead,
When the ugly stranger was killed
And buried uncircumcised with the hunch
Not plucked out of his back
The gods and the livings dead
In the realm of the ancestors
Of the kingdom of Muntu were not happy,
They never wanted uncircumcised old man
With a hunch back to join them
And worse enough with the six fingers,
The gods and ancestors really god annoyed
That Walumoli wa Muntu has done them bad
He is only caring for the living, the pre-mortals
Especially his last wife and the daughter
But he has neglected the ancestors,
Why trash to ancestors a stark humanity,
They communed among themselves
And resolved to sent Namaroro
The god of dreams, dreams as messages
From the ancestors and dreams from the gods
Namaroro visited Namunyu Lubunda the palace
Prophet in the Kingdom of Muntu to pass
The message vesseling unhappiness of the ancestors
And gods in a blend of gloomy read to execute
A vendetta;
This is when in the wee of the night that Namunyu Lubunda
Dreamed and had a vision of a old man from
The east is warning of the coming long spell of starvation
That will befall the kingdom of Muntu for ten years
                                      That Namaroro told Namunyu Lubunda
As for ten seasons of foodlessness
Behold a begging kingdom
Behold a starving throne,
The scepter of Muntu is a disgrace
To the holder
Then Namunyu Lubunda set forth by dawn
To the Palace to meet Walumoli wa Muntu
In his, palace before any other royal chores come up,
Both good and bad luck combined
Only to have Namunyu Lubunda to get the king at the palace
He got him fresh and relaxed chewing the cup of fortune
In his full ego, all his wives had submitted to the morning dishes
To his dining hall in the palace, he moved his hands from
One plate of food to the other.
Namunyu Lubunda entered with a submissive salutation
To the royal, He bowed and declared the glory of the king
In typical standards of the ethnic composition of the house of Muntu
Walumoli wa Muntu Mukitang’a Mutukuika
Majave Kutusi Mbirira Omwene esimbo ya
Kumukasa,
Walumoli responded with a feat of dignity to Namunyu Lubunda
The palace prophet, as he roared to him; come in
Come in son of Lubunda son of our people,
He did mention the name of Namunyu Lubunda father
As he fears his words may escape with the power
Of his kingdom the scepter of Muntu
To other insignificant families in the kingdom,
Let me announce what brings me here; intoned Namunyu
Go ahead and announce my holiness
s the prophet of this kingdom; responded Walumoli,
Misfortune is awaiting the kingdom
It will eat this kingdom away
Like a ravenous hyena on the ewe’s tail
The ancestors and the spirits of this land
This kingdom of yours the son of Muntu
Are immensely offended with your recent behaviour
In which you commandeered all villages
In your kingdom; from east and west
The **** the innocent passer by
With your owner hands that handle the scepter
You killed and lay to rest the foreigner
A pure omurende to the kingdom of muntu
You buried him uncircumcised without contrite
In the cemeteries of our foremen who asleep and circumcised
Why did you lower the dignity of our forefathers
Who never share a roof with uncircumcised person
To share the ancestral realm; our emagombe
With hunchback foreigner not circumcised?
This kingdom is condemned to all spell of curse of death
Ceaseless hunger famines and starvation
Women dwindle in their reproductive capacity
Rarely will you come across a pregnant woman
Food will be difficulty to put on the table
Even the sweat of your brow will go to naught,
You will not be buried with insignia
Like a pauper you killed will you be buried
The house of your wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo
Khakhalikha no bwoya is a house of no consequences
For even your daughter Nalukosi stands cursed
She will not mature to be wedded into a marriage
She will hover the earth under heavy agonies of hunger,
My assignment is done and over
With or without your permission let me go.









THE FIRST SONG
Our song continues dear brethren
Come join me in arms we sing
Joyous singing of these songs of peace
Telling the world peaceful stories
As we enjoy sitting together around my grandmothers fire yard
Warming our selves to her lovely fire inherent in her good stories,
These songs will sing the glory and success of the king of Manani
It is an irregular Ode to Silinki wa Namunguba the son of Mwangani,
The son of Tunduli, the son of Wajala Njovu, the son of Welikhe, the son
Of manyorori, the son of Chumbe, the son of Kajo, the Son of Mabati, the son of welotia,
The son of sikele sia mulia, the son of Toywa,the son of siruju, the son of Mango, the son of Mulwoni sinyanya Bakhasi, the son of Mbakara , the son of Makhakara wa Nambuya, the son of Mukoye mulala kukhalikha w0nga, the son of Zumba the son of God.
Silinki
Sonali Sethi Dec 2014
He drives along the empty road
Till his headlights fall upon the deer
He stops, inches from its body.
Its dark eyes widen with fear.
Hazel brown eyes: Just like his daughter’s

He blares his horn repeatedly
To scare it off with the loud sound
A vain attempt; the stag stays
Unmoving, it holds its ground.
Obstinate creature: Just like his daughter.

He groans in frustration,
The animal stares in silence;
Its eyes shine with a hint of anger
It’s stance the picture of defiance  
Quietly rebellious: Just like his daughter.

Through his window, he shouts at it
To move off the narrow road
But the deer just stands, looking confused,
Instead of running off to its abode
It doesn’t understand: Just like his daughter.

Doesn’t it know to run away?
He’s never seen such behaviour;
Such a myriad of emotions  
Expressed by a simple deer.
It’s an enigma: Just like his daughter.

He looks helplessly at the deer,
Unsure of what will happen now
He’s almost out of options but
He knows he’ll find a way somehow.
After all, he never gives up: Just like his daughter.
Carl D'Souza Jul 2019
I am a toilet cleaner’s daughter
My dad’s occupation isn’t cool
I am a toilet cleaner’s daughter
So I work very hard at school
I am a toilet cleaner’s daughter
My family struggles to survive
I am a toilet cleaner’s daughter
I dream and strive towards a better life
I am a toilet cleaner’s daughter
I dream of doctor, lawyer, even cooking food
I am a toilet cleaner’s daughter
I don’t want to be a cleaner too
Amirah Shahari Aug 2017
I do not deserve the title,
Mama's precious daughter.
When I am nothing like,
Soft running water.

Mama's precious daughter,
She's witty and clever,
Balancing her life all together,
But I ain't mama's precious daughter,
I am far off being a precious gem,
When all I do is cry and complain,
About the things that I can't gain.

She's brave,
And daring,
Just like mama.
But I am not mama's precious daughter,
I plan my sentences in my head,
But I am always years late.

Mama's precious daughter,
Curves a smile on her face,
Voice like heaven,
But I ain't mama's little darling.
I waste my time on dreaming,
With a face so haunting.

Mama loves she,
Her wonderful,
Darling daughter,
But I am just an exception– the,
Opposite of,
Mama's precious daughter.
You murdered your daughter and you show no remorse
Then you hide behind a cross, of course
‘Cause you think your religion is a license to hate
And an excuse to discriminate

Her short life was done
Before it had begun
‘Cause you murdered your daughter
But you still call her your son

You sent her to monsters dressed in therapist’s clothes
‘Cause her comfort is something you oppose
When she told you her secret, you replied, “It’s a phase
And you’ll feel like a man one of these days”

But of course, she did not
Now I won’t let it be forgot
That you murdered your daughter
Without a second thought

And she was beautiful
Yes, she was so beautiful
But she had no chance with parents like you
Though she was beautiful
Though she was so beautiful
You cut off her wings long before she flew

With the guise of a gay man as a small stepping stone
She hoped she would not feel so alone
But instead, you denied her all her friends at her school
How can you be so selfishly cruel?

You locked her within walls
But her gender’s not your call
Yes, you murdered your daughter
You drove her to end it all

But she was beautiful
Yes, Leelah was beautiful
And yet, you denied her identity
She was so beautiful
She was so **** beautiful
But you were too hateful to let her be

Now, Douglas and Carla, let the world know your names
And the sins of which you’re not ashamed
You did not love your daughter, don’t you act like you did
You probably didn’t see her as your kid

Don’t pretend that you’re sad
You’re not a mom and dad
‘Cause you murdered your daughter
For the son you never had
Leelah Alcorn died because of her parents' intolerance. It just filled me with so much anger and sadness that I had to write a song about her, so I did. If you need someone to talk to, please, don't hesitate to contact me. I'll always be here for you, even if your family isn't.
Sarah Flynn Oct 2020
you tell your six year old daughter
all about stranger danger.

“don’t get into a car
with someone you don’t know.”

“don’t listen if they say
that they have a puppy
or candy or something fun.
they don’t.”

your six year old daughter
knows exactly what to do
if she is ever approached or touched
by a strange, unknown man.
but does she know what to do
if the man who touches her
has a seat at the Thanksgiving table?


you tell your thirteen year old daughter
that someone who she loves
should never hit her.

“if punches are thrown, leave.”

“use that can of pepper spray.”

“if you have to hit back,
aim for the eyes, or the groin,
or anywhere weak.”

“run away.”

your thirteen year old daughter
knows to never let a man hit her.
but if he yells at her,
and degrades her, and scares her,
and maybe even grabs her
but not quite hard enough
to leave a bruise, that is still abuse.
did you tell her that?
does she know what to do
if he doesn’t leave any marks
and tells her over and over again
that he’s sorry?


you tell your sixteen year old daughter
to yell “fire!” instead of “****!”

“people will care more
about the well-being
of their own property
than they will about your life.”

“they will come running,
but only if the situation
affects them too.”

your sixteen year old daughter
knows that people can be selfish,
and if they don’t want to see something,
they’ll simply turn the other way.
but there is good in this world too.
there are people who will care
and who will love her
and who she can trust.
did you tell her that?
if she stops believing in love
and genuine people,
does she know what to do?
or will she settle for the first man
who gives her any attention,
thinking that he is all
she will ever find?


you tell your twenty-four year old daughter
that one day, you hope
her future is beautiful.

“marry an amazing man.”

“have grandchildren.”

“live happily.”

when you tell her this,
you unintentionally add
your hope for her happiness
at the very end of your sentence,
almost like an afterthought.
your twenty-four year old daughter
wants to get married
and live in a nice house
and give you grandchildren.
but does she know to put herself first?
or will she marry a man because
she thinks he wants her to,
and have grandchildren
because she thinks that’s what you want?
does she know that
she has her own voice?
did you tell her that
she doesn’t need anyone
other than herself
to find happiness?
Sharina Saad Jan 2014
When I look into my daughter's eyes
I imagine looking into the skies
When I look into my daughter's eyes
I see purity reflected in her rounded eyes
When I look into my daughter's eyes
Her tantrums, some sadness as she cries
When I look into my daughter's eyes
No matter what there will be no goodbyes
When I look into my daughter's eyes...
Her curiosity , her wonders that will last..
When I look into my daughter's eyes
Her magnificent stories stay in those eyes..
When I look into my daughter's eyes
Have I ever been deceived by her sweet lies?
Will there be some white lies
hidden In those pretty eyes..?
Caitlin Sep 2019
If only daughter knew how much her mother loves her. If only mother knew how to express that to her.

If only daughter knew how much father loves her. If only he'd address that to her.

But father broke mothers’ heart in two with broken promises and bottle caps too.

A bottle for pleasure a bottle for pain, it wasn’t long before mother and father drank again.

There’s never any harm they said in just one or two. But daughter knew three and four were coming all too soon.

Daughter felt confused as to why mother would drink what split her parents in two. Would the bottle come between her and mother too?

Daughter couldn’t fathom how father could do this. The family unit daughter surely missed.

Father had been quite angry now for some time. Daughter didn’t know why he sometimes dulled her shine.

Mother was no longer sure what to do to keep her mind at peace. How would she fix the shattered heart that had broken first in two, then slowly piece by piece?

Daughter at times wondered the same, how could she make mothers heart whole again. But she lost hope for some time, had words stuck bouncing back and forth in her mind that she wanted to say so badly. She wanted to scream so loudly.

But her parents ears had been cut off by a blade of sorrow, anger and stress. Daughter began to quickly regress. Withdrawal. No binge would rid her of the pain at all, and now daughter is confused too. She often feels as if her only friends are her journal and the moon.

She tries to keep her darkness at bay, a mess at night, a peach by day. She is successful for a short time until the darkness she carried overpowered her shine and she knew this was not who she was supposed to be. How would she rediscover her divinity?

Long story short, she soul searched far and wide and began to forgive herself for letting the darkness inside.

Soon enough she forgave mother and father too and now she wishes that they knew how much she loves them too.
A C Leuavacant May 2014
Daughter
So young
In my mind you sleep
Your tiny hands
The love in your eyes
It will be my downfall

Daughter
Someday I'll meet you
And show you the world
Take you down paths
That I once walked

Daughter
So warm
I'll sit along
Your hospital bed
Through your first ever sleep
From the moment you're born
My life won't be the same

Daughter
I wait
Because I know it's for you
The piece of my life
That will fix me forever

Daughter
You're everything
All that I need
The clasp of your hand
I know will complete me

Daughter
You're older
Have a child of your own
But always I love you
The seed of my heart.
Jessica Jones Jul 2014
Angry man, Angry man,
Who claws his way through trash cans.
Why is there a silver band,  on the ring finger of your left hand when I see that you've no wife?

Angry man, Angry man,
Who sings of a lost love through bottled up tears and whimpering sobs.
Why is it that you cry?

Angry man, its raining and its hardly been an hour. Since I last saw an expression so sour as the one you wear as you glumly sit in the rain. Why don't you ever smile?

Angry man, they say you're bitter. Called a drunkard and a quitter. But I saw you stare  down that strange man who tried to follow me home the other day. You must not be as bad as people say you are, you must have a reason as to why.

Angry man, you've lost your home.
Angry man, you look alone.
Why does misery soak into your skin?

Angry man, I am sad to hear and see,
the horrific tragedy that happened to your wife and daughter while you were at work.

Angry man, your wife must have loved you.
She waited seven years for you to propose to her and loved you as much as she did after all those years. You must have known..
She must wish that she could kiss and hug you.

Until then she waits for you in that place close to God with your daughter.

Angry man,  your daughter must have called you "Papa" in such a way that only a five-year old could.
Don't you remember when she'd giggle as you tickled her awake every morning because she didn't want to wake up?

Angry man, I am not teasing.
Angry man, please believe me.

God blessed you with a loving wife and gave you both a beautiful daughter.

Won't you stop mourning over the car accident. While you were at work and your wife was driving your baby girl to school...you couldn't have known that a drunken driver would take them both from you.

When the police called you at work, confused but cooperating you took a seat as they suggested and hoped that they wouldn't make you late for dinner.

Slowly realising as they explained.
That your wife was dead along with your daughter.
Whose birthday was only in two weeks.
You planned to take her to the country so she could ride her first pony, because she loved horses so much and begged for one every Christmas.

Your wife.
Brown eyed, high school sweetheart.
Always made sure you had a good day, loving you as long as you two knew each other.  Anniversary a few months ago...

Rage boils your blood into steam.
You want the drunken fool to pay, smash him into the ground till your wife and child comes back.  

Screaming at the officers who try to calm you down with understanding and pity in their eyes.

Fallen tears.

Stream alongside your face and you are on your knees weeping and breathing so hard for your family.
Wishing you didn't go to work early that day, because ***** traffic. You could have drove your daughter to school. Your wife would have been safely at home making sure that all was ready for your daughters surprise drive out to the country.

They wouldn't have been dead.

You were numb during the funeral preparations.
Felt hollowed out at the joint funeral.
Made sure that your daughter held her favorite stuffed animal in her casket.

Made sure that your wife wore those oval earrings you bought her for your first anniversary. Remembered when she'd kiss your cheek twice on special occasions whenever she wore them. Because she loved them so much.
How your daughter would burst into giggles and you'd kiss her cheek so she'd feel loved too.

Quitting your job amd starting to drink.
Eventually losing your home.

Always putting flowers on their graves every year. This year made three.

Angry man, please be happy.
Because your sadness would be breaking their hearts, they'd want you to be happy.

Won't you put down the beer bottle...



and find your way home?
Wanted to write something where anger can be seen differently. And I wanted to tell a story that'd break a readers heart.
Johnny Noiπ Nov 2018
He lost his daughter.
Your own. He has a son.
His son; France and
television; And they leave
their loves. Why do you
ask me? Board of Directors
Archery, I love you. OK.
It can happen. Leather,
black, pink,      | | | | | |
Like wine. Backup is the best.
A headteacher. Normal
fitness Like dust and mist
Republic of Korea. Due
to the holidays Unfortunately,
I do not need it. Do not be angry
and sinful. That's the answer.
This is not a bad thing. help. My
friend the Robot: There are so
many ||||
goals in a case. In the shadow
of love Fire: Then I cannot.
On girls' lips, This is the priority.
Body Show. dull answer,
daughter, I've never heard of ||||
For their mental performances,
Final anatomy here may be
a difference. World Finance Stock
1 Do you always think about it?
The girl is the daughter they lost;|
His head. A child is a boy
Far diligently for the young child;
French and television are
And so they left their wishes.
Why askest thou me; Directed state;
[A light Ronînokek opening
of blisters] 1 and I love you - and
this is not good; That this is so may
well be
in the skin, black, pink-thrombus;
| | |        As is clear from drinking;
It is best to back out of the head.
A standard for as dust and flies
running songs in Korea. About
feast day
unfortunately, I do not need to,
indeed, angry; the answer is that
That is not to say that the worst
aid. Friends are happy Robots;
then empty goals, Unfortunately,
in the shadow of the love light;
and undermine
To the heads of the fetal sample,
Namely, the pre-natal bûnê habit;
The body showed. the law;
which she answered, O daughters
of the price of did not listen ||||
to the baggage of their knowledge,
the last 1:1 The anatomical
difference involved in being [????]
to leave; And 1 shares in the world
continuously think about it?

This beautiful girl who lost her life at her head.
A boy's child obsessively reads young soccer
thinking in French, will you disappear, and a crew
your wellbeing She left the girl behind, leaving ||
holidays. what is Che what leaves Che? ||
State State State Public Editor of the East Catchester;
[Lightning rainbow associated with horizontal red]
I am not sure you have what you love and do -
on the head yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes ||    ||
yes, yes, skin, pain, pink ikon thromma:
| | |             This is a quotation of drinks;
Her hair is a woman at the back of the head.
Standard star; This clearly shows that the walls
are in the darkly city of corners and prostitutes;
chi, you do not need to go over the vehicle,
the answer is nothing; it's a dog's company;
It's a pity that that affects friends.
in the desert where the Dance is presented;
Where the shadow of love shines,
we are sorry for the cops.
Test exploded with an airplane
stripper Pre-natal error to birth
Of course it is ****;    Some indicate
the whole body.
Her daughter heard the legal barriers
chilled the hearing call, approx. 1, i
leave anatomical details; y
possibility of inclusion,
muscles in the world that stayed.
Did you consider?

This daughter of the girls, who had lost
his head. A child is a child of the child
who reads very carefully far be it from
the Gauls, and television are thus to the
left vacation. Why askest thou me;
Directed state; [Ronînokek light of the
opening of blisters] 1, and because
I love you - Yes yes yes yes yes so well
In the skin, black, pink-thrombus:
| | |        As is clear from drinking;
It is best for him
              On the back of the head.
              A standard for trot songs
      As dust flies on Korea day.
            chi on the day of the feast
day lest unfortunately,
there is no need to have ||
to go; the answer is that
the same the worst is to say
that with the support. friends,
Robots are happy, then it is,
from the proposed wilderness;
With love In the shadow
of the light Unfortunately, ||
he frustrates the And the
sample officials the offspring,
too, the habit of pre-namely
natalbûnê; The body showed.
The law, she says, Oh daughter
The price of the hearing
of the baggage;      It contains
information about the last 1 1
And leave the anatomy tangled
up shares in the world 1, and
remains, and I think about it?
|                                             |
The girl who had lost a daughter
His head.         A child is a child
of the child Far carefully
The Gauls,     and television are
thus the they left their vacation.
Why askest thou me;
Directed state; [Ronînokek light
opening of blisters] 1 and that
I love you - so that it is so good
that it is so well In the skin,
black, pink-thrombus;
| | | As is clear from the drinking;
It is best to him;      On the back
of the head. A standard for
running bootleg songs,   As dust
flies
on Korea. About festival to-day
had unsuccessfully,   I need to
get angry; the answer is that
The worst thing to say He had
help. his friends, the Robots
are happy,
then, so The proposed waste
With love in the shade Unfortunately
the light; and undermine sending a
Sample of the fetus to the rulers,
Even pre-habit namely natalbûnê;
The body showed. The law, she says,
Oh daughter price hearing no trains
information about the last 1: 1:
The anatomical leaves a tangle;
1 shares in the world and
continuously thinks about it? ||||||||||
unnamed Aug 2012
Sometime before you were alive,
the mother of the woman you will grow to love is kneeling over an empty plot of land in a burning cemetery etching text into the dirt,
laughing,
laughing to the sky:

*I carry with me the sins of my mother,
To my daughter I give my own.  
To my daugther my burning blood, this divine fire,
The charity, the greed, the cruel indifference my life has known.


To my daughter these things as they came from my mother to me.
To my daughter the echoe of my own sin,
To my daughter my own depravity.


To my daugther, Trial by Fire,  
Clarity of purpose and strength through this Trial granted to thee
Because only through this Trial were these things granted to me.  


Life to my daughter I will give
So a good life my daughter might choose to live.

Life to my daughter
because life to me,
because life to me,
because life to me.

The blood I give to my daughter because the blood my mother gave to me.  
My blood to my daughter,
Thee,
   Because mine own blood my mother gave to me.
Denise Apr 2015
My mom sends me a text almost every Sunday.
It reads “I love you daughter of mine.”
I respond with “I love you too mother of mine.”
It’s the 3rd year of this weekly text exchange,
I love her more now than I did in the beginning,
10 hours of distance has smoothed her edges and mine.

But this ritualistic exchange is hard.
I don't love the word daughter.
The word daughter makes my skin crawl.
It implies girlhood,
promises womanhood,
gives a chance of motherhood.

The word daughter means my mom is seeing something in me that isn’t there.
She’s seeing what she wrote on my birth certificate,
what she forced others to see when she wouldn’t let me cut my hair short,
allusions of an ill-fitting label.

I am not her daughter,
I am not another son either.
I am not even a child anymore,
though I am still hers

Her flesh and blood and tears and words are part of who I am,
I don’t know how to explain the rest of me.
I don't want to make her feel like she lost a daughter,
But I don't want to continue letting her think that she ever had one.
V. TO APHRODITE (293 lines)

(ll. 1-6) Muse, tell me the deeds of golden Aphrodite the
Cyprian, who stirs up sweet passion in the gods and subdues the
tribes of mortal men and birds that fly in air and all the many
creatures that the dry land rears, and all the sea: all these
love the deeds of rich-crowned Cytherea.

(ll. 7-32) Yet there are three hearts that she cannot bend nor
yet ensnare.  First is the daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis,
bright-eyed Athene; for she has no pleasure in the deeds of
golden Aphrodite, but delights in wars and in the work of Ares,
in strifes and battles and in preparing famous crafts.  She first
taught earthly craftsmen to make chariots of war and cars
variously wrought with bronze, and she, too, teaches tender
maidens in the house and puts knowledge of goodly arts in each
one's mind.  Nor does laughter-loving Aphrodite ever tame in love
Artemis, the huntress with shafts of gold; for she loves archery
and the slaying of wild beasts in the mountains, the lyre also
and dancing and thrilling cries and shady woods and the cities of
upright men.  Nor yet does the pure maiden Hestia love
Aphrodite's works.  She was the first-born child of wily Cronos
and youngest too (24), by will of Zeus who holds the aegis, -- a
queenly maid whom both Poseidon and Apollo sought to wed.  But
she was wholly unwilling, nay, stubbornly refused; and touching
the head of father Zeus who holds the aegis, she, that fair
goddess, sware a great oath which has in truth been fulfilled,
that she would be a maiden all her days.  So Zeus the Father gave
her an high honour instead of marriage, and she has her place in
the midst of the house and has the richest portion.  In all the
temples of the gods she has a share of honour, and among all
mortal men she is chief of the goddesses.

(ll. 33-44) Of these three Aphrodite cannot bend or ensnare the
hearts.  But of all others there is nothing among the blessed
gods or among mortal men that has escaped Aphrodite.  Even the
heart of Zeus, who delights in thunder, is led astray by her;
though he is greatest of all and has the lot of highest majesty,
she beguiles even his wise heart whensoever she pleases, and
mates him with mortal women, unknown to Hera, his sister and his
wife, the grandest far in beauty among the deathless goddesses --
most glorious is she whom wily Cronos with her mother Rhea did
beget: and Zeus, whose wisdom is everlasting, made her his chaste
and careful wife.

(ll. 45-52) But upon Aphrodite herself Zeus cast sweet desire to
be joined in love with a mortal man, to the end that, very soon,
not even she should be innocent of a mortal's love; lest
laughter-loving Aphrodite should one day softly smile and say
mockingly among all the gods that she had joined the gods in love
with mortal women who bare sons of death to the deathless gods,
and had mated the goddesses with mortal men.

(ll. 53-74) And so he put in her heart sweet desire for Anchises
who was tending cattle at that time among the steep hills of
many-fountained Ida, and in shape was like the immortal gods.
Therefore, when laughter-loving Aphrodite saw him, she loved him,
and terribly desire seized her in her heart.  She went to Cyprus,
to Paphos, where her precinct is and fragrant altar, and passed
into her sweet-smelling temple.  There she went in and put to the
glittering doors, and there the Graces bathed her with heavenly
oil such as blooms upon the bodies of the eternal gods -- oil
divinely sweet, which she had by her, filled with fragrance.  And
laughter-loving Aphrodite put on all her rich clothes, and when
she had decked herself with gold, she left sweet-smelling Cyprus
and went in haste towards Troy, swiftly travelling high up among
the clouds.  So she came to many-fountained Ida, the mother of
wild creatures and went straight to the homestead across the
mountains.  After her came grey wolves, fawning on her, and grim-
eyed lions, and bears, and fleet leopards, ravenous for deer: and
she was glad in heart to see them, and put desire in their
*******, so that they all mated, two together, about the shadowy
coombes.

(ll. 75-88) (25) But she herself came to the neat-built shelters,
and him she found left quite alone in the homestead -- the hero
Anchises who was comely as the gods.  All the others were
following the herds over the grassy pastures, and he, left quite
alone in the homestead, was roaming hither and thither and
playing thrillingly upon the lyre.  And Aphrodite, the daughter
of Zeus stood before him, being like a pure maiden in height and
mien, that he should not be frightened when he took heed of her
with his eyes.  Now when Anchises saw her, he marked her well and
wondered at her mien and height and shining garments.  For she
was clad in a robe out-shining the brightness of fire, a splendid
robe of gold, enriched with all manner of needlework, which
shimmered like the moon over her tender *******, a marvel to see.

Also she wore twisted brooches and shining earrings in the form
of flowers; and round her soft throat were lovely necklaces.

(ll. 91-105) And Anchises was seized with love, and said to her:
'Hail, lady, whoever of the blessed ones you are that are come to
this house, whether Artemis, or Leto, or golden Aphrodite, or
high-born Themis, or bright-eyed Athene.  Or, maybe, you are one
of the Graces come hither, who bear the gods company and are
called immortal, or else one of those who inhabit this lovely
mountain and the springs of rivers and grassy meads.  I will make
you an altar upon a high peak in a far seen place, and will
sacrifice rich offerings to you at all seasons.  And do you feel
kindly towards me and grant that I may become a man very eminent
among the Trojans, and give me strong offspring for the time to
come.  As for my own self, let me live long and happily, seeing
the light of the sun, and come to the threshold of old age, a man
prosperous among the people.'

(ll. 106-142) Thereupon Aphrodite the daughter of Zeus answered
him: 'Anchises, most glorious of all men born on earth, know that
I am no goddess: why do you liken me to the deathless ones?  Nay,
I am but a mortal, and a woman was the mother that bare me.
Otreus of famous name is my father, if so be you have heard of
him, and he reigns over all Phrygia rich in fortresses.  But I
know your speech well beside my own, for a Trojan nurse brought
me up at home: she took me from my dear mother and reared me
thenceforth when I was a little child.  So comes it, then, that I
well know you tongue also.  And now the Slayer of Argus with the
golden wand has caught me up from the dance of huntress Artemis,
her with the golden arrows.  For there were many of us, nymphs
and marriageable (26) maidens, playing together; and an
innumerable company encircled us: from these the Slayer of Argus
with the golden wand rapt me away.  He carried me over many
fields of mortal men and over much land untilled and unpossessed,
where savage wild-beasts roam through shady coombes, until I
thought never again to touch the life-giving earth with my feet.
And he said that I should be called the wedded wife of Anchises,
and should bear you goodly children.  But when he had told and
advised me, he, the strong Slayer of Argos, went back to the
families of the deathless gods, while I am now come to you: for
unbending necessity is upon me.  But I beseech you by Zeus and by
your noble parents -- for no base folk could get such a son as
you -- take me now, stainless and unproved in love, and show me
to your father and careful mother and to your brothers sprung
from the same stock.  I shall be no ill-liking daughter for them,
but a likely.  Moreover, send a messenger quickly to the swift-
horsed Phrygians, to tell my father and my sorrowing mother; and
they will send you gold in plenty and woven stuffs, many splendid
gifts; take these as bride-piece.  So do, and then prepare the
sweet marriage that is honourable in the eyes of men and
deathless gods.'

(ll. 143-144) When she had so spoken, the goddess put sweet
desire in his heart.  And Anchises was seized with love, so that
he opened his mouth and said:

(ll. 145-154) 'If you are a mortal and a woman was the mother who
bare you, and Otreus of famous name is your father as you say,
and if you are come here by the will of Hermes the immortal
Guide, and are to be called my wife always, then neither god nor
mortal man shall here restrain me till I have lain with you in
love right now; no, not even if far-shooting Apollo himself
should launch grievous shafts from his silver bow.  Willingly
would I go down into the house of Hades, O lady, beautiful as the
goddesses, once I had gone up to your bed.'

(ll. 155-167) So speaking, he caught her by the hand.  And
laughter-loving Aphrodite, with face turned away and lovely eyes
downcast, crept to the well-spread couch which was already laid
with soft coverings for the hero; and upon it lay skins of bears
and deep-roaring lions which he himself had slain in the high
mountains.  And when they had gone up upon the well-fitted bed,
first Anchises took off her bright jewelry of pins and twisted
brooches and earrings and necklaces, and loosed her girdle and
stripped off her bright garments and laid them down upon a
silver-studded seat.  Then by the will of the gods and destiny he
lay with her, a mortal man with an immortal goddess, not clearly
knowing what he did.

(ll. 168-176) But at the time when the herdsmen driver their oxen
and hardy sheep back to the fold from the flowery pastures, even
then Aphrodite poured soft sleep upon Anchises, but herself put
on her rich raiment.  And when the bright goddess had fully
clothed herself, she stood by the couch, and her head reached to
the well-hewn roof-tree; from her cheeks shone unearthly beauty
such as belongs to rich-crowned Cytherea.  Then she aroused him
from sleep and opened her mouth and said:

(ll. 177-179) 'Up, son of Dardanus! -- why sleep you so heavily?
-- and consider whether I look as I did when first you saw me
with your eyes.'

(ll. 180-184) So she spake.  And he awoke in a moment and obeyed
her.  But when he saw the neck and lovely eyes of Aphrodite, he
was afraid and turned his eyes aside another way, hiding his
comely face with his cloak.  Then he uttered winged words and
entreated her:

(ll. 185-190) 'So soon as ever I saw you with my eyes, goddess, I
knew that you were divine; but you did not tell me truly.  Yet by
Zeus who holds the aegis I beseech you, leave me not to lead a
palsied life among men, but have pity on me; for he who lies with
a deathless goddess is no hale man afterwards.'

(ll. 191-201) Then Aphrodite the daughter of Zeus answered him:
'Anchises, most glorious of mortal men, take courage and be not
too fearful in your heart.  You need fear no harm from me nor
from the other blessed ones, for you are dear to the gods: and
you shall have a dear son who shall reign among the Trojans, and
children's children after him, springing up continually.  His
name shall be Aeneas (27), because I felt awful grief in that I
laid me in the bed of mortal man: yet are those of your race
always the most like to gods of all mortal men in beauty and in
stature (28).

(ll. 202-217) 'Verily wise Zeus carried off golden-haired
Ganymedes because of his beauty, to be amongst the Deathless Ones
and pour drink for the gods in the house of Zeus -- a wonder to
see -- honoured by all the immortals as he draws the red nectar
from the golden bowl.  But grief that could not be soothed filled
the heart of Tros; for he knew not whither the heaven-sent
whirlwind had caught up his dear son, so that he mourned him
always, unceasingly, until Zeus pitied him and gave him high-
stepping horses such as carry the immortals as recompense for his
son.  These he gave him as a gift.  And at the command of Zeus,
the Guide, the slayer of Argus, told him all, and how his son
would be deathless and unageing, even as the gods.  So when Tros
heard these tidings from Zeus, he no longer kept mourning but
rejoiced in his heart and rode joyfully with his storm-footed
horses.

(ll. 218-238) 'So also golden-throned Eos rapt away Tithonus who
was of your race and like the deathless gods.  And she went to
ask the dark-clouded Son of Cronos that he should be deathless
and live eternally; and Zeus bowed his head to her prayer and
fulfilled her desire.  Too simply was queenly Eos: she thought
not in her heart to ask youth for him and to strip him of the
slough of deadly age.  So while he enjoyed the sweet flower of
life he lived rapturously with golden-throned Eos, the early-
born, by the streams of Ocean, at the ends of the earth; but when
the first grey hairs began to ripple from his comely head and
noble chin, queenly Eos kept away from his bed, though she
cherished him in her house and nourished him with food and
ambrosia and gave him rich clothing.  But when loathsome old age
pressed full upon him, and he could not move nor lift his limbs,
this seemed to her in her heart the best counsel: she laid him in
a room and put to the shining doors.  There he babbles endlessly,
and no more has strength at all, such as once he had in his
supple limbs.

(ll. 239-246) 'I would not have you be deathless among the
deathless gods and live continually after such sort.  Yet if you
could live on such as now you are in look and in form, and be
called my husband, sorrow would not then enfold my careful heart.

But, as it is, harsh (29) old age will soon enshroud you --
ruthless age which stands someday at the side of every man,
deadly, wearying, dreaded even by the gods.

(ll. 247-290) 'And now because of you I shall have great shame
among the deathless gods henceforth, continually.  For until now
they feared my jibes and the wiles by which, or soon or late, I
mated all the immortals with mortal women, making them all
subject to my will.  But now my mouth shall no more have this
power among the gods; for very great has been my madness, my
miserable and dreadful madness, and I went astray out of my mind
who have gotten a child beneath my girdle, mating with a mortal
man.  As for the child, as soon as he sees the light of the sun,
the deep-breasted mountain Nymphs who inhabit this great and holy
mountain shall bring him up.  They rank neither with mortals nor
with immortals: long indeed do they live, eating heavenly food
and treading the lovely dance among the immortals, and with them
the Sileni and the sharp-eyed Slayer of Argus mate in the depths
of pleasant caves; but at their birth pines or high-topped oaks
spring up with them upon the fruitful earth, beautiful,
flourishing trees, towering high upon the lofty mountains (and
men call them holy places of the immortals, and never mortal lops
them with the axe); but when the fate of death is near at hand,
first those lovely trees wither where they stand, and the bark
shrivels away about them, and the twigs fall down, and at last
the life of the Nymph and of the tree leave the light of the sun
together.  These Nymphs shall keep my son with them and rear him,
and as soon as he is come to lovely boyhood, the goddesses will
bring him here to you and show you your child.  But, that I may
tell you all that I have in mind, I will come here again towards
the fifth year and bring you my son.  So soon as ever you have
seen him -- a scion to delight the eyes -- you will rejoice in
beholding him; for he shall be most godlike: then bring him at
once to windy Ilion.  And if any mortal man ask you who got your
dear son beneath her girdle, remember to tell him as I bid you:
say he is the offspring of one of the flower-like Nymphs who
inhabit this forest-clad hill.  But if you tell all and foolishly
boast that you lay with ric
The daughter forgot the nest.
She left it, fading in memory,
Until memory washed away,
Like footprints on the shore.

Out of the deadly ocean we call life,
She found the shore,
And seeing her mother still nesting,
She made new footprints.

My daughter, mother sings delighted,
My love for you is boundless.
My heart breaks with every glimmer of you:
You left before you could hatch;
You existed before laid for birth.
You have never known my love:
What did the world teach you?

I know your love, daughter haughtily grumbled,
Love is passion:
It divides pleasure and pain;
It conquers war and ministers peace;
It imprisons hate and waylays death.

Oh, mother simpered,
Sorrow burrowing in her expression,
Not abating when she spoke:
Daughter why are you so bitter?

Aghast, daughter saw betrayal in,
Mother's skin and bones:
Me? Bitter? You don't know me!

Mother shifted her weight,
Letting her gentle warmth,
Embrace her sleeping children equally:
I know you through your beliefs,
And you don't know love,
Because you live the lives,
Of lies, and tricks,
Hate and war.
You think you are right, because,
You assembled fragments of truths;
See here, I have the whole picture.

Summoning her deepest conviction,
Mother spoke from her heart:
Love unites pain and pleasure,
Because pain teaches,
And pleasure rewards;
Pain directs,
And pleasure roots;
If they don't work together,
We are utterly lost.

Mother sang her words,
Like a symphony of beauty:
Love,
Misguided love,
Sows wars,
As easily as it ministers peace,
But hate ignites war because,
We imprison our hate,
Instead of letting it go free,
And replacing hate,
With love.
Hate imprisoned,
Is a monster,
Snarling in the cage,
Luring bystanders,
That it may be set free.

Mother's song was a tempest,
Rattling the trees,
Sweeping the forest floor,
Carrying the clouds,
She sang with purpose:
Love does not waylay death,
Love is death,
Love is the death of hate,
War, and sin,
But it must be true love.

True love? Daughter despaired.

Mother's song quieted,
An eerie echo in the wake,
Of the song's crescendo:
Love is not passion,
Love is peace.

Daughter's eyes showed defiance.

Mother's song settled to soft steps,
Like water drops gleefully,
Jumping from trees:
You don't believe me,
Because you don't know love...

Daughter turned her head,
To look at the setting sun,
Storm clouds of dissent,
Brewing in her mind,
And there she saw it!

The setting of the sun...
The sun allows itself to die,
Assured that it will,
Be born again in morning.
The moon and stars,
Mostly gone during day,
Yet night provides their,
Reigning.
Storms enrage the elements,
And destroy the founded,
But enrich the earth,
And scatter the seeds for new life.
Predators linger, lurk and listen,
Waiting to crawl, catch, ****!
Yet even they must,
Protect and raise their children,
Because there is a time,
For weakness...
For strength...
For death...
For life...

Daughter turned back to mother:
May I shelter my siblings?

Mother smiled:
Now you know...
Love is in the embrace.

Before summer,
Siblings hatched,
Marveling at their sister,
Big, and strong,
In heart and stature.
When they learned to fly,
They flew with her.
When she died,
They laid her to rest,
And mother, too.

If love is not taught,
To willing ears,
It is wasted,
Like water through,
Open hands.

If your wings,
Tire from love,
Know this:
Love rewards,
For love commands peace,
pleasure, pain, hate,
Yes...
Even death.

Love commands.
She was just another schoolgirl

Dreams of marriage and of kids

She had devoted parents

They loved everything she did

Nothing could deter her

from the choice that she had made

Turning seventeen, she left her home

in Forest Glade

Moving north to Epsilon

She chose another route

She would be a dancer

Taking money from the suits

She started slow in Epsilon

A club girl from the start

She had a phony i.d

But she sure could play the part

Was she a dancer or an actress

Seems she was one and the same

She chose to go as Crystal

Though that wasn't her real name

She danced a bit and moved around

The lifestyle she liked

She was dancing up in Buffalo

When she met a guy named Mike

They dated and got married

Soon a kid was on the way

When he found out she was pregnant

He packed up and moved away

She was nineteen and without a chance

To get a better life

Who would want a dancer

With a kid to be his wife?

Nobody that she knew

That would be for sure

And just like the little girl she was

She always wanted more

She had her son, named Ferguson

She then enrolled in school

She was gonna be a big thing

She would not be no ones fool

She chose to keep on dancing

Working late nights, dancing hard

Saving up her money

So she'd get her son a yard

She was still a little girl deep down

She still had real big dreams

She didn't want the normal life

She wanted the extremes

She was a dancer, mother, daughter and

A sutdent every day

She had to keep them separate

Had to keep her lives at bay

She'd many personalities

Depending on her place

She handled each role expertly

With poise and with such grace

By day she was a mother

And a student on the side

She did both of them expertly

And she showed off both with pride

At night she was a dancer

Schoolgirl, teacher, and much more

She would be a patrons fantasy

But she hid down in her core

The little girl she really was

Stayed deep and far from them

She was also now an actress

Dancing, doing things for men

At night when she was finished

She would go home to her boy

She would bend and kiss him as he slept

For he was her pride and joy

She'd then go hit the shower

Washing all their dreams away

She would wash away their kisses

She would make herself okay

Each night she'd play another role

To keep the men entranced

She would change her look up daily

As on the stage she pranced

They'd pay her for her company

And they'd worship all she did

But, all she ever thought about

Was something better for her kid

She finished school in record time

A manager she'd be

She took a four year course

And she finsihed it in three

She didn't have the money

To quite make her dreams come true

But, she now had a diploma

And inside, her pride just grew

She was now a feature dancer

She was the top of mens desires

But the job was getting weary

In fact, our girl was tired

She had her different roles to play

Still mother, daughter, and

At night a dancer actress

In an pornographic land

She'd go home every night and see

Her son there in his bed

She'd go and have her shower

And she'd kiss him on his head

She'd wash away the garbage

Wash away her hidden life

Once again she thought of

Being a mother and a wife

Normalcy, would not be hers

She'd have to move along

She'd done well for her young boy

She had not done too much wrong

A new life far from Buffalo

Would be the thing to do

She's now a mother and a daughter

And she might live next to you

She broke the chains that bound her

Used her dancing to improve

Made herself much stronger

And she then did up and move

Now she doesn't go home late at night

To wash away the grime

She can go home and go out to play

To give her son some time

The sad fact is there's lots of girls

But not as strong as her

They do not escape the dancing

When they end up, no one's sure

But Crystal, she's a hero

For she made herself move on

She's a mother, actress, daughter

with a super cool young son

Where she went I don't know where

But, she ended up on top

Ther rumours were she married

In fact they said that he's a cop

they say that she's still out working

In the clubs, out with the girls

But she's no longer a dancer

She's out showing them the world

She's helping them get into school

They confess to her their sins

She knows of what they talk about

For she's been just where they've been

She doesn't go by Crystal

She now goes by her real name

But, she might just live next door to you

And to tell would be a shame.
Dorothy A May 2012
Trish had an uncanny ability to pick all the wrong ones. Like a friend once told her, “You always try to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear!”  If there were a hundred available guys in a room, she always managed to zone in on the worst one there, not the kindest one, not the one with the greatest character or honor. It's like she had a special gift for finding a man—a cursed one—yet she had only herself to blame—not  fate for it—like she tried to point her finger at for her troubles. In this regard, Trish was often her own worst enemy. And none of her bad experiences seemed to deter her from her defeating patterns, for it seemed that having a ****** choice of a man in her life was better than having no man at all.

A Friday night without any date was something she desperately wanted to avoid. At the age of fifty-six, trying to meet men was getting old, as old as she was feeling, lately.

At Pete’s Place, a local bar down at the end of her street, and two blocks over, Trish could at least feel like she was among friends. It was an old hangout that always felt like a safe haven to turn to, familiar territory that she could call her own turf, her home away from home. Often, Trish encountered regulars, down-to-earth faces who have been going to the family-like establishment as long as or longer than she has. Drinking really was not her thing, not more than one or two, at the most. But if anything, if worst came to worst, she could say she was not home alone and left out while the world seemed to go on its own merry way without her.  

Pete’s Place was far from a glamorous hangout, but it had a cozy charm to it that made it irresistible to Trish. In the back were a pool table and a dartboard that provided some harmless enjoyment. With a couple of flat screen TVs, there usually was some sports game to watch. And every other Saturday, there was a DJ conducting Karaoke that always attracted a regular crowd. Trish couldn’t sing a note, but she loved to watch and cheer everybody else on. She just felt so welcome here, so at home, that even if she felt depressed or lonely, the atmosphere eventually lifted her heaviness of heart.  

Entering the bar this time, Trish hardly saw a familiar face at all—that was except for the bartender, Henry, who worked this job since forever. For a Friday night, business seemed surprisingly slow. There was only an older couple watching a baseball game that was at Pete’s Place, a couple that she did not recognize.

“Where is everybody?” Trish asked Henry.

Henry smiled. “Hey, Trish! Good to see ya! Yeah, it is like a ghost town tonight, isn’t it? I guess there are too many good things goin’ on down in Buffalo. I think there are some big boat races goin’ on. And, for sure, there is the jazz festival”.

“Well, I’m here, Henry! Look out, everybody! Let the fun begin!” she said jokingly as she sat herself up at one of the barstools. She looked around. Even the wait staff wasn’t around, obviously gone home early and not needed.

“Would have been nice to go somewhere fun like that. I mean the jazz festival. I like jazz”, Trish said to Henry.

Henry was trying to stay busy by wiping down the bar, cleaning every nook and cranny behind the counter. “You should have called up one of your girlfriends to go over there. I am sure someone would have gone with ya”.

Trish rolled her eyes. “What girlfriends? They are often too busy with their own husbands or men in their life to care about what poor, old Trish Urbine wants to do!”

Henry felt bad for her.  The more she frequented Pete’s Place, the more he knew she was all alone, was in between having some man in her life. And, lately, she was coming quite often to the bar by herself.

“You are not old, Trish! Hell, I am older than you!” Henry exclaimed.

Trish just frowned, not convinced at all by what Henry said. “Not old?” she asked. She pulled a small mirror out of her purse and looked at herself, giving herself the inspection of a drill sergeant. “That is a joke! Look at those bags under my eyes. Look at those crow’s feet, for pity’s sake!  Look at that droopy skin in my neck! Horrible! I am trying to save up for a face lift. I really need it! Been needing it for a while now!”

Henry shook his head. “All you women are alike. My wife does the same, **** thing, the same putdowns to herself. Says she’s fat. Says she’s getting old and ugly. Says this and says that. But let me tell you Trish, after thirty-six years of marriage, I still see her as my sweetheart. I’d have it no other way than with my Bernadette. He patted his belly and added, "Hell, look at me. Believe it or not, with my job, I don’t even drink that much beer. But look at the gut I am getting”.  

Trish scoffed at what he said. Henry looked nearly as lean as he did the first time she met him. He was just being nice. .Under better circumstances, she would have found what Henry said as endearing and charming. To say he still loved his wife as his “sweetheart” was incredibly adorable and rare.

“Hey”, Henry said. “Enough of my jibber jabber. Pardon my manners. What can I get for ya, dear?”

“Just a Diet Coke for me, Henry. I have to watch the calories myself. You know me—don’t want to get frumpy, lumpy and dumpy. At least not more than I am!” Trish smiled. She thought that her self disparaging remarks were a cute way of getting her point across with humor, but Henry couldn’t see anything funny about it.

He filled her glass of pop from the tap and handed it over to her. “Hey, how’s that daughter of yours doing? Is she still living in Albany?”  

Trish cupped her hands up to her forehead and rested her head on them. “She is still in Albany, but she might as be on the moon for all we ever talk to each other”. She looked up at Henry and he could see the frustration written all over her face.

“I didn’t mean to upset you”, he said.

“Oh, you didn’t”, she returned. “I appreciate you asking, but you know the situation with Patti and I. It is either that we are at each other’s throat or we just don’t talk. Truth be told, we haven’t really got along since she was a girl. Once she hit those teenage years—oh, man they were a nightmare! I wouldn’t relive those years for anything!”

Henry rested his elbows up on the bar counter. “Oh, I know what you mean!. My second son, my boy, Steven, and I had a terrible time once he hit about fifteen. Man, him and I bucked heads all the time. Yes, indeed! It could get ugly, and it sure as heck did! But now I’m proud of him! In Afghanistan, fighting for his country—that is somethin’ that makes me glad! Now, I say that I couldn’t ask for better sons. I’m proud of him—of all four of my boys as good, strong men that they are!”  

Trish sipped on her coke, a hurtful look upon her face while reflecting on her daughter, a daughter that she named after herself.  Both were named Patricia, but the same name did not mean two peas in a pod, actually far from it. Trish definitely preferred her name, short and sophisticated—so she had liked to think—and the name, Patti, seemed cute and carefree. But Patti seemed anything but cute and carefree, not like she was when she was very little. But the name stuck with her, as she preferred to be called

“Yeah, but Patti still lives in the past” Trish said. “She still blames me for everything wrong in her life. Nothing has changed, and I am still the bad guy. Trish thought for a second. “Well, her dad, too. He’s bad, too, in her eyes. She always says she raised herself, that she never had real parents. That’s crap because I raised her and I was around—unlike her useless father!”

“Sounds bitter on her part”, Henry agreed. He thought to say that Trish sounded a bit like that, too, but he did not think it was his place to say it out loud.

“Bitter is right”, Trish said in disgust.  

Bartenders have always been seen as good listeners, like the working man’s counselor. People, like Trish, often came in for a drink to try to forget their troubles, and wanting to lean on a trusty soul in need. Henry has seen plenty of this in his twenty-four years on the job, and he has honed the skill quite well, the skill of providing a listening ear. Sometimes he had good advice, but he knew he was no psychiatrist.    

Frustrated, Trish went on. “I mean who else was there for her? When her dad and I divorced, she wanted to stay with him just to spite me! But would he have her? No, he only wanted to be with his under aged, ***** wife!

“And who else would do what I did? When my step dad died, and my mom couldn’t handle my little brother anymore, who was it that took him in? It was me! He was eleven and I was almost twenty-two and living with my boyfriend. I helped to finish raising him, kept him at my place right up to the day that he was grown—and more! And I did it because it needed doing, and nobody else was stepping in! When my sister moved to Colorado, and one of her kids, my nephew, Craig, wanted to stay here to graduate here from high school, I agreed to take him in for two years until he finished high school. And yet I am such a bad, selfish person in Patti’s opinion! It makes me sick to think of how she sees me as her mother!”

Henry poured her a refill of pop in her half empty glass. He knew that Trish was on bad terms with her daughter, that their relationship was shaky and strained. Patti was Trish’s only child, and it troubled him that they didn’t have much of a relationship. Yet Trish did not need pity. She needed to refocus and find a new direction. Henry knew that she has needed a new direction for quite a while now.    

“Well, you know I love my daughter”, he replied. “I know your heart must be achin’ bad—real bad. I couldn’t imagine my life without Jocelyn or me not talkin’ to her. She’s the apple of my eye, ya know!  And my boys know it and get that she’s special to me—Daddy’s little girl. With four older brothers, she has always been outnumbered. And myself and the Mrs. never expected her, neither. One—two—three—four, the boys all came right in a row! She came way after, Ben, the last one—a big surprise, I tell ya! But I was tickled pink and couldn’t have been happier to have my little girl”.  Henry smiled warmly, and added, “No matter how old she gets, she will always be my little girl.”

Trish’s mood wasn’t influenced by what Henry said, not for the good. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Henry looked a bit embarrassed. “Oh, I ain’t tryin’ to rub it in to ya! No, no Trish!  I’m just sayin’ you should see Patti as someone special, no matter what it is like now. She still is your daughter. And ya lover her! You know ya do! Try to get through to her. Keep on tryin’ and don’t give up hope.”

Trish didn’t look convinced by his little pep talk, so he said, “One day she will have her own children, and realize she will make mistakes, too. You sure will want to see those grandkids. Trust me! I live to see all of mine! ”

Patti sniffed at that comment, putting forth a laugh that seemed so phony and snarky. This behavior was not like her at all, not the bubbly Trish that Henry used to see coming into the bar. “Grandchildren? Are you kidding me? Patti wants nothing to do with men! She avoids them like the plague! Says she doesn’t want to end up like me…married and divorced four times…she says there is no excuse for it. But she uses me all the time as an excuse! I think she is just scared to death of relationships with guys!”

“I thought you were married three times?” Henry asked. He had a surprised look on his face, but then he tried to think differently. “But I don’t want to **** in on your life. It’s your business, not mine to judge”.

“No, Henry, it’s ok. My last marriage lasted only seven weeks”. She turned red in the face now, but she wanted to set it straight. “Patti thinks it is disgusting that I married all those times. My last husband tried to clear out my bank account, and I left him. Patti says she will never marry. She won’t touch a man with a ten foot pole to save her life!”

She paused as Henry stared intently at her, listening. “She does not want to end up like me”, she added, her voice throaty. Tears welled up in her eyes.  

Patti was the product of Trish’s first marriage to a man named Earl Colbert. When Patti was six, her father divorced her mother. Since then, Patti had seen plenty of men come and go. In between her other three husbands, there were too many boyfriends to even keep track of. Trish was also engaged twice, but the engagements were eventually broken off.    

She sat in silence as Henry was still thinking of the right thing to say to comfort her. Soon, two young couples had entered through the door, dispersing the air of awkwardness, and stopping the conversation between Henry and Trish.  Henry continued to clean up around the bar as he waved to them and welcomed their presence. One of the guys came up and ordered a pitcher of beer before joining his friends at a table.

It was no more than a few minutes later that another customer approached inside Pete’s Place. It was Jake. Trish rolled her eyes at Henry. He was a regular here, too, like she was, and about the same age as her.

Jake immediately came up to Trish and put his arm around her. “Buy you a drink, darlin’?” he asked. His breath already smelled of alcohol.  

“Oh, Jake, get away!” Trish scolded him. “You know I don’t accept drinks from married men, so move on!” She waved her hand in the air to clear the bothersome odor of his ***** away from her.

Jack just laughed, and moved to the other end of the bar, his usual spot. Henry kept his calm although he did not like Jake acting like a fool to Trish, or to any of the women who came here. He had to do his duty and serve Jake, but if he had his way the guy would be just a step away from being told to leave. Henry always kept a close eye on how much Jake was drinking, and he often cut him off when it seemed he had his share.

“Whisky, Henry”, Jake ordered. They both knew the routine.

With his whisky in hand, Jake smirked at Trish and asked, “How come you ain’t at that big jazz festival downtown?”  

“How come you ain’t?” she echoed him, sarcastically

“Cuz I don’t have a sweet lady to go with me and keep my company”. He winked at her, and downed a gulp of whisky.

“Oh, you mean like your—wife!” Trish said.  Jake and Trish often bantered like this to each other. “You will never change, Jake. You are a rude and obnoxious flirt, and you ought to be ashamed!”

Jake just laughed her off.  “Sweetie, my wife knows I’m a big flirt. She’s OK with it! She says ‘as long as you are peeking and not seeking, who cares what you do!’”

The two young couples that came in a while ago overheard Jake’s conversation and started to crack up in laughter. It seemed that he was the entertainment for a lackluster evening at the bar, a court jester of sorts. Trish looked at the four, young faces that were laughing at her expense, glanced at Henry in silent agreement that Jake was an idiot, and quickly turned red in the face.

“Jake, shut your big mouth!” Henry intervened. “You lie as much as you belt them down!”  When Jake was more sober, he seemed pretty reasonable, but he was nauseating when he was on a drinking binge.

Henry exited into a room behind the bar for a moment. Jake whispered loudly to Trish, like an impish, little boy who knew he might get caught, but loved the thrill of it. “Psst. Hey, Trish! Look! My wife’s no fun at all! Won’t go out with me no more. The festival is going on all weekend. Just give me your number and I’ll call you tomorrow and pick you up to take you there”.

Trish pretended like she did not hear him, still rattled up a bit, but trying her best to hide it, and Jake soon devoted his mind to his drink.

She turned herself around in the barstool and pretended to watch the baseball game. The scene in the room was still practically the same way since she first arrived. Only now there was an edgier atmosphere with the four younger people in it. The older couple was still sitting together in the corner, intent on watching the ball game. The two younger couples were drinking down their pitcher of beer and talking away. One of the young man had his arm around his girlfriend, gently caressing her back, and the other young couple, that was sitting across from them was holding hands.  

In longing, Trish looked on at the young couples. How she m
Michael DeVoe Jan 2010
To the tweaker who just ate lunch
On the side of a 55 mph highway
I'm not staring because I'm judging
I can judge without looking
I'm staring because I want to know
If my eyes can slow down your limbs
Like the arms of a fan
So I can see that you're still somebody's daughter
I'm staring because I understand
Never mind the gawking eyes of midday traffic
Never mind the glares of the gas station clerks
I understand
You're just having lunch
I understand
The bugs, the tics, the needs
You are not a stranger to me
You are who my sister used to be
You are what the father of my niece
Is trying not to be anymore
You are every shady character
Who ever knocked on my door asking questions
I do not know your name
But I know you
I know you were once somebody's daughter
And I hope you still are
I'm not here to pass judgment
Definitely not here to help
I know all to well there is nothing I can do
I just want you to know I know
And so does any body you're trying to hide it from
And they'll be waiting up for you
Whether you come home or not
Your mom hasn't had a full nights sleep
Since the last time she saw you
I hope for her sake
It was this morning
And I know you won't believe this
But grown woman and all
Your dad just wants to bounce you on his knee
But what I know most of all
Is that your little brother
Can't go two hours without crying
He's got ulcers again
And he misses you
You probably see him the most
But he hasn't seen you
Since you took your first hit
He misses your advice
He misses your hazing
And all he wants is a sober hug
And I'm sure this isn't what you wanted to hear
During your picnic
But it's everything I wish I could've told my sister
Even if she wouldn't have listened
I'm not staring to judge
I'm staring to care
And I don't presume to know what addiction is
But I do know how it feels
I just watched you barely cross the street
I can't imagine you making it
Wherever you're going tonight
So if you die
I hope there's **** in heaven
But if you by some miracle don't
I hope rock bottom's not to far down
And that one day you get clean
And start to make amends
So you can remember what it's like to dream
And if that day ever does come
Do me a favor
Sit on your father's lap
Sleep in your mother's bed
And hug your little brother
Because there's a girl he could use some help with
No matter what you've done
Or how much pain you've caused
Through the twitching
The nervous glances
The weight loss
You're still somebody's daughter
I know you
I understand you
Enjoy your lunch
A collection of poems by me is available on Amazon
Where She Left Me - Michael DeVoe
http://goo.gl/5x3Tae
Shannon Lee Rohn Jan 2017
I can only give credit to one,
Whose been there since my life really begun,
Who stayed even when he wanted to run,
All of my childhood memories have you in the scene,
You didn't know how to raise someone else's kids,
So sometimes I thought you were mean,
Your jokes and stories you would tell, & still the pride of a strong heart,
It was us who tried to keep it together when it was falling apart,
Everytime a new escape plan by my mom was tried,
I'd stand there & at your side,
Or when she wouldn't come back after the ******* stories and stupid lies,
No matter how we lived our lives,
Our family has a love that still stands strong,
Maybe it's because we had a dad manage to try & keep it together when everything went wrong,
I think you finally got over the guilt & shame,
For the absence of your other daughters that loved you the same,
And I know you still live with the burden of its pain,
I can only give credit to one,
The one who stayed even when he wanted to run,
I hoped that one day you'd love me the same,
Eventhough I'm the only daughter out of 7 that doesn't have your name,
What about the other kids that were born with you by their side,
Decisions have to be made & you had to decide,
You chose to stay & raise them anyways & put everything else aside,
You claimed them as your own, that in which you never denied,
You hold all of the memories & moments of their life & all that they've known,
But when they were born, you knew that they were not born As Your Own.
People often wonder why you are put on a pedastool so high,
You are an angel seen through the wisdom of God's eye,
Your intellegence is what most people see,
As a child all the times you'd pass it on to me,
You are much smarter than that of common seed,
Random encyclopedia projects & numerous books we'd read,
I can't complain because you are a better dad than I expected you to be,
And you are the only dad I'd ever really need,
As I'd climb up on your lap since I was 2, as you'd listen to me read,
I hope I was the daughter you expected me to be,
I can only give credit to one,
Sure things got tough & we wanted to run,
But you didn't & that's what makes you # 1,
Not everything was perfect & sometimes it got rough,
Why couldn't we just change it when enough was enough?,
We grew up & Life's still tough,
But will we know how to crawl out of a hole if we get stuck?,
Sorry if I've ever hurt you or made you mad,
But some memories still hurt real bad,
Not everything was easy, in fact with everyday struggles it got too hard,
The bad memories we usually set aside or often discard,
We try to cover them up like they don't exist,
We were smart enough to know everytime they came into our lives it was just to cross us off the list,
When things were in place & just as they should,
Even the hard times turned out pretty good,
Some stuggles even brought happiness at the end even if times were hard,
Those will be the moments that are left unscarred,
Mom tried hard to get our lives back to where it belongs,
I guess it wasn't meant to be that way for very long,
I may be the only daughter without your name,
But I love you more than I would if you were My Own,
Things have changed and I am grown,
I am older now,
To have you as my dad I could never be more proud,
I can only give credit to one,
Who stayed even when he wanted to run,
Is this the life for us that was planned?
Sure time goes bye, but you are a better man,
I may be the only daughter without your name,
But our blood still bleeds the same,
My recent distance from this family made me miss you so much more,
But if I didnt then I would be reluctant & life be lived without lore,                                    
I feel like I can't move from this spot, for so long i have been gone,
I left to find my place in this world, but is this where I belong?,
I will always be your daughter, so let that be known,
I was gone for a little while but now I'm home,
My heart is heavy with this undying fear,
That one day I'll wake up & you'll no longer be here,
I can only give credit to one,
Who decided to stay even when he wanted to run,
If objects in mirror are closer than they appear,...
Then tomorrow is already here,
So lets clean the mirror so we can see real clear,
When someone doesn't want something they throw it away, or leave it behind,
My real father never changed his mind,
He never looked back, so he left long ago....so that a better dad i would find,
And to your surprise,
Yet another daughter at your side,
To tug on your pants & ask you questions all the time,
Who believed in everything you've accomplished & even the things you've tried,
You were put in my life as my dad for a reason,
Without you I wouldn't have anything to believe in,
I'm sorry if I've made you cry,
By these poetic words that I write,
I stand here as your daughter & I stand here all alone,
I may not be the daughter who shares the blood of your own,
But my plan is to stand here until the fray of fabric once kept together
   by the stitching once perfectly sewn,
Do you love me as your daughter?
Do you love me As Your Own?               
 
                                                              7/15/2015
For the only one I call DAD
Darrell Lee Tumlin

reluctant: unwilling, hesitant, resistant
lore: knowledge, knowing
Skyla Jul 2023
I'm somebody's daughter
Made of sugar and gasoline 
I wash away the filth until I bleed 
Desperate to be clean

I'm somebody's daughter

A small and hungry crime scene 
Made of guilt and strawberry cream 
But I never cry in my dreams

I'm somebody's daughter

Trying to become untaught 
They love the sound of sorry 
Even when they know I'm not


Sincerely, someone's daughter
Penny Laine Jun 2020
I will raise a better daughter than my mother did
I will raise a daughter who has a voice that cannot be muzzled
a daughter who does not measure her self worth with a scale
a daughter who will not let a man speak down to her, even her own father
a daughter who does not back down because she's told to
a daughter who does not need to hide her moments of weakness to protect those who should have protected her
a daughter who puts herself first
a daughter who wants her mind to out weigh her beauty
adaughter who does not think that her place is a slave to a man
I will raise a daughter in a way God did not create my family to raise a woman
I will raise the kind of daughter I wish my mother raised me to be
Erika Castaldo Mar 2016
If I ever have a daughter,
She won’t go a day without thinking
That she isn’t as strong as others
Because of her ***.

If I ever have a daughter,
She won’t go a day without thinking
That she can’t walk down the
Street without being afraid.

If I ever have a daughter,
She won’t go a day without thinking
That every man she passes is going
To hurt her.

If I ever have a daughter,
She won’t go a day without thinking
That what she wears or what she says
Will put her in danger.

If I ever have a daughter,
She won’t go a day without thinking
That she is inferior or vulnerable or
Worthless.

If I ever have a daughter,
The world will try and break her down
And I don’t know if I can protect her from it.
So here Ulysses slept, overcome by sleep and toil; but Minerva
went off to the country and city of the Phaecians—a people who used
to live in the fair town of Hypereia, near the lawless Cyclopes. Now
the Cyclopes were stronger than they and plundered them, so their king
Nausithous moved them thence and settled them in Scheria, far from all
other people. He surrounded the city with a wall, built houses and
temples, and divided the lands among his people; but he was dead and
gone to the house of Hades, and King Alcinous, whose counsels were
inspired of heaven, was now reigning. To his house, then, did
Minerva hie in furtherance of the return of Ulysses.
  She went straight to the beautifully decorated bedroom in which
there slept a girl who was as lovely as a goddess, Nausicaa,
daughter to King Alcinous. Two maid servants were sleeping near her,
both very pretty, one on either side of the doorway, which was
closed with well-made folding doors. Minerva took the form of the
famous sea captain Dymas’s daughter, who was a ***** friend of
Nausicaa and just her own age; then, coming up to the girl’s bedside
like a breath of wind, she hovered over her head and said:
  “Nausicaa, what can your mother have been about, to have such a lazy
daughter? Here are your clothes all lying in disorder, yet you are
going to be married almost immediately, and should not only be well
dressed yourself, but should find good clothes for those who attend
you. This is the way to get yourself a good name, and to make your
father and mother proud of you. Suppose, then, that we make tomorrow a
washing day, and start at daybreak. I will come and help you so that
you may have everything ready as soon as possible, for all the best
young men among your own people are courting you, and you are not
going to remain a maid much longer. Ask your father, therefore, to
have a waggon and mules ready for us at daybreak, to take the rugs,
robes, and girdles; and you can ride, too, which will be much
pleasanter for you than walking, for the washing-cisterns are some way
from the town.”
  When she had said this Minerva went away to Olympus, which they
say is the everlasting home of the gods. Here no wind beats roughly,
and neither rain nor snow can fall; but it abides in everlasting
sunshine and in a great peacefulness of light, wherein the blessed
gods are illumined for ever and ever. This was the place to which
the goddess went when she had given instructions to the girl.
  By and by morning came and woke Nausicaa, who began wondering
about her dream; she therefore went to the other end of the house to
tell her father and mother all about it, and found them in their own
room. Her mother was sitting by the fireside spinning her purple
yarn with her maids around her, and she happened to catch her father
just as he was going out to attend a meeting of the town council,
which the Phaeacian aldermen had convened. She stopped him and said:
  “Papa dear, could you manage to let me have a good big waggon? I
want to take all our ***** clothes to the river and wash them. You are
the chief man here, so it is only right that you should have a clean
shirt when you attend meetings of the council. Moreover, you have five
sons at home, two of them married, while the other three are
good-looking bachelors; you know they always like to have clean
linen when they go to a dance, and I have been thinking about all
this.”
  She did not say a word about her own wedding, for she did not like
to, but her father knew and said, “You shall have the mules, my
love, and whatever else you have a mind for. Be off with you, and
the men shall get you a good strong waggon with a body to it that will
hold all your clothes.”
  On this he gave his orders to the servants, who got the waggon
out, harnessed the mules, and put them to, while the girl brought
the clothes down from the linen room and placed them on the waggon.
Her mother prepared her a basket of provisions with all sorts of
good things, and a goat skin full of wine; the girl now got into the
waggon, and her mother gave her also a golden cruse of oil, that she
and her women might anoint themselves. Then she took the whip and
reins and lashed the mules on, whereon they set off, and their hoofs
clattered on the road. They pulled without flagging, and carried not
only Nausicaa and her wash of clothes, but the maids also who were
with her.
  When they reached the water side they went to the
washing-cisterns, through which there ran at all times enough pure
water to wash any quantity of linen, no matter how *****. Here they
unharnessed the mules and turned them out to feed on the sweet juicy
herbage that grew by the water side. They took the clothes out of
the waggon, put them in the water, and vied with one another in
treading them in the pits to get the dirt out. After they had washed
them and got them quite clean, they laid them out by the sea side,
where the waves had raised a high beach of shingle, and set about
washing themselves and anointing themselves with olive oil. Then
they got their dinner by the side of the stream, and waited for the
sun to finish drying the clothes. When they had done dinner they threw
off the veils that covered their heads and began to play at ball,
while Nausicaa sang for them. As the huntress Diana goes forth upon
the mountains of Taygetus or Erymanthus to hunt wild boars or deer,
and the wood-nymphs, daughters of Aegis-bearing Jove, take their sport
along with her (then is Leto proud at seeing her daughter stand a full
head taller than the others, and eclipse the loveliest amid a whole
bevy of beauties), even so did the girl outshine her handmaids.
  When it was time for them to start home, and they were folding the
clothes and putting them into the waggon, Minerva began to consider
how Ulysses should wake up and see the handsome girl who was to
conduct him to the city of the Phaeacians. The girl, therefore,
threw a ball at one of the maids, which missed her and fell into
deep water. On this they all shouted, and the noise they made woke
Ulysses, who sat up in his bed of leaves and began to wonder what it
might all be.
  “Alas,” said he to himself, “what kind of people have I come
amongst? Are they cruel, savage, and uncivilized, or hospitable and
humane? I seem to hear the voices of young women, and they sound
like those of the nymphs that haunt mountain tops, or springs of
rivers and meadows of green grass. At any rate I am among a race of
men and women. Let me try if I cannot manage to get a look at them.”
  As he said this he crept from under his bush, and broke off a
bough covered with thick leaves to hide his nakedness. He looked
like some lion of the wilderness that stalks about exulting in his
strength and defying both wind and rain; his eyes glare as he prowls
in quest of oxen, sheep, or deer, for he is famished, and will dare
break even into a well-fenced homestead, trying to get at the sheep-
even such did Ulysses seem to the young women, as he drew near to them
all naked as he was, for he was in great want. On seeing one so
unkempt and so begrimed with salt water, the others scampered off
along the spits that jutted out into the sea, but the daughter of
Alcinous stood firm, for Minerva put courage into her heart and took
away all fear from her. She stood right in front of Ulysses, and he
doubted whether he should go up to her, throw himself at her feet, and
embrace her knees as a suppliant, or stay where he was and entreat her
to give him some clothes and show him the way to the town. In the
end he deemed it best to entreat her from a distance in case the
girl should take offence at his coming near enough to clasp her knees,
so he addressed her in honeyed and persuasive language.
  “O queen,” he said, “I implore your aid—but tell me, are you a
goddess or are you a mortal woman? If you are a goddess and dwell in
heaven, I can only conjecture that you are Jove’s daughter Diana,
for your face and figure resemble none but hers; if on the other
hand you are a mortal and live on earth, thrice happy are your
father and mother—thrice happy, too, are your brothers and sisters;
how proud and delighted they must feel when they see so fair a scion
as yourself going out to a dance; most happy, however, of all will
he be whose wedding gifts have been the richest, and who takes you
to his own home. I never yet saw any one so beautiful, neither man nor
woman, and am lost in admiration as I behold you. I can only compare
you to a young palm tree which I saw when I was at Delos growing
near the altar of Apollo—for I was there, too, with much people after
me, when I was on that journey which has been the source of all my
troubles. Never yet did such a young plant shoot out of the ground
as that was, and I admired and wondered at it exactly as I now
admire and wonder at yourself. I dare not clasp your knees, but I am
in great distress; yesterday made the twentieth day that I had been
tossing about upon the sea. The winds and waves have taken me all
the way from the Ogygian island, and now fate has flung me upon this
coast that I may endure still further suffering; for I do not think
that I have yet come to the end of it, but rather that heaven has
still much evil in store for me.
  “And now, O queen, have pity upon me, for you are the first person I
have met, and I know no one else in this country. Show me the way to
your town, and let me have anything that you may have brought hither
to wrap your clothes in. May heaven grant you in all things your
heart’s desire—husband, house, and a happy, peaceful home; for
there is nothing better in this world than that man and wife should be
of one mind in a house. It discomfits their enemies, makes the
hearts of their friends glad, and they themselves know more about it
than any one.”
  To this Nausicaa answered, “Stranger, you appear to be a sensible,
well-disposed person. There is no accounting for luck; Jove gives
prosperity to rich and poor just as he chooses, so you must take
what he has seen fit to send you, and make the best of it. Now,
however, that you have come to this our country, you shall not want
for clothes nor for anything else that a foreigner in distress may
reasonably look for. I will show you the way to the town, and will
tell you the name of our people; we are called Phaeacians, and I am
daughter to Alcinous, in whom the whole power of the state is vested.”
  Then she called her maids and said, “Stay where you are, you
girls. Can you not see a man without running away from him? Do you
take him for a robber or a murderer? Neither he nor any one else can
come here to do us Phaeacians any harm, for we are dear to the gods,
and live apart on a land’s end that juts into the sounding sea, and
have nothing to do with any other people. This is only some poor man
who has lost his way, and we must be kind to him, for strangers and
foreigners in distress are under Jove’s protection, and will take what
they can get and be thankful; so, girls, give the poor fellow
something to eat and drink, and wash him in the stream at some place
that is sheltered from the wind.”
  On this the maids left off running away and began calling one
another back. They made Ulysses sit down in the shelter as Nausicaa
had told them, and brought him a shirt and cloak. They also brought
him the little golden cruse of oil, and told him to go wash in the
stream. But Ulysses said, “Young women, please to stand a little on
one side that I may wash the brine from my shoulders and anoint myself
with oil, for it is long enough since my skin has had a drop of oil
upon it. I cannot wash as long as you all keep standing there. I am
ashamed to strip before a number of good-looking young women.”
  Then they stood on one side and went to tell the girl, while Ulysses
washed himself in the stream and scrubbed the brine from his back
and from his broad shoulders. When he had thoroughly washed himself,
and had got the brine out of his hair, he anointed himself with oil,
and put on the clothes which the girl had given him; Minerva then made
him look taller and stronger than before, she also made the hair
grow thick on the top of his head, and flow down in curls like
hyacinth blossoms; she glorified him about the head and shoulders as a
skilful workman who has studied art of all kinds under Vulcan and
Minerva enriches a piece of silver plate by gilding it—and his work
is full of beauty. Then he went and sat down a little way off upon the
beach, looking quite young and handsome, and the girl gazed on him
with admiration; then she said to her maids:
  “Hush, my dears, for I want to say something. I believe the gods who
live in heaven have sent this man to the Phaeacians. When I first
saw him I thought him plain, but now his appearance is like that of
the gods who dwell in heaven. I should like my future husband to be
just such another as he is, if he would only stay here and not want to
go away. However, give him something to eat and drink.”
  They did as they were told, and set food before Ulysses, who ate and
drank ravenously, for it was long since he had had food of any kind.
Meanwhile, Nausicaa bethought her of another matter. She got the linen
folded and placed in the waggon, she then yoked the mules, and, as she
took her seat, she called Ulysses:
  “Stranger,” said she, “rise and let us be going back to the town;
I will introduce you at the house of my excellent father, where I
can tell you that you will meet all the best people among the
Phaecians. But be sure and do as I bid you, for you seem to be a
sensible person. As long as we are going past the fields—and farm
lands, follow briskly behind the waggon along with the maids and I
will lead the way myself. Presently, however, we shall come to the
town, where you will find a high wall running all round it, and a good
harbour on either side with a narrow entrance into the city, and the
ships will be drawn up by the road side, for every one has a place
where his own ship can lie. You will see the market place with a
temple of Neptune in the middle of it, and paved with large stones
bedded in the earth. Here people deal in ship’s gear of all kinds,
such as cables and sails, and here, too, are the places where oars are
made, for the Phaeacians are not a nation of archers; they know
nothing about bows and arrows, but are a sea-faring folk, and pride
themselves on their masts, oars, and ships, with which they travel far
over the sea.
  “I am afraid of the gossip and scandal that may be set on foot
against me later on; for the people here are very ill-natured, and
some low fellow, if he met us, might say, ‘Who is this fine-looking
stranger that is going about with Nausicaa? Where did she End him? I
suppose she is going to marry him. Perhaps he is a vagabond sailor
whom she has taken from some foreign vessel, for we have no
neighbours; or some god has at last come down from heaven in answer to
her prayers, and she is going to live with him all the rest of her
life. It would be a good thing if she would take herself of I for sh
and find a husband somewhere else, for she will not look at one of the
many excellent young Phaeacians who are in with her.’ This is the kind
of disparaging remark that would be made about me, and I could not
complain, for I should myself be scandalized at seeing any other
girl do the like, and go about with men in spite of everybody, while
her father and mother were still alive, and without having been
married in the face of all the world.
  “If, therefore, you want my father to give you an escort and to help
you home, do as I bid you; you will see a beautiful grove of poplars
by the road side dedicated to Minerva; it has a well in it and a
meadow all round it. Here my father has a field of rich garden ground,
about as far from the town as a man’ voice will carry. Sit down
there and wait for a while till the rest of us can get into the town
and reach my father’s house. Then, when you think we must have done
this, come into the town and ask the way to the house of my father
Alcinous. You will have no difficulty in finding it; any child will
point it out to you, for no one else in
Sharina Saad Jun 2013
Your sweetness blooms
Even on days when it gloom
This flower we protect most
and hold her to our hearts so close
Young lady, my daughter
you are stronger than anything life throws your way.
Take care of each petals of this flower
and preserve its fragrance,
keep blooming and shine your way...
my precious daughter we love you most....
this poem is dedicated to my daughter Asilla who has just started pursuing her study in the university. Love you so much.
Ain Sep 2020
Haan...
Mujhe ab bhi woh din yaad hai...
Hui zindagi jab se aabaad hai...
Suni teri dharkan thi jab ki woh pal...
Lagta hai jaise bas guzra tha  kal...
Aaj...
tu meri beti, khud Mumma bani hai....

(Yes...
I still remember that day...
Since my life has been domiciled
That moment when I heard your heartbeat for the first time...
Feels like that moment has passed just yesterday....

Today....
You my daughter, have become a mother...)


Haan...
khushi se jo aankhein thi nam yaad hai...
Hui tujh se poori jo fariyaad hai...
Thi mujh ko hamesha se chahat teri...
Ki tune mukammil hai duniya meri....
Aur Aaj...
Tu meri beti, khud mumma bani hai....

(Yes....
I remember how my eyes flooded out water in joy...
In you I found all my prayers answered
I had always desired you...
You have completed my world...

And today...
You my daughter, have become a mother...)


Haan...
Tere is hunar par tha mujh ko yaqeen...
Kabhi to banegi tu maa behtareen...
Teri qubiyon par, amal par tere...
Kiye tune sabit gumaan ko mere....
Kyunke Aaj...
tu meri beti, khud Mumma bani hai....

(Yes...
I always believed in this talent of yours
Some day you will be an amazing mother
The confidence I had in your skills and natural aptitude
You have proved me correct in my feelings

Because today....
You my daughter, have become a mother...)

Haan..
Teri aankhon mein aaj jo pyaar hai...
Umr bhar ke rishte ka iqraar hai...
Atoot hai jo rohani yeh taar hai...
Wohi to har ek maa ki talwaar hai...
Jaise Aaj...
Tu meri beti, khud mumma bani hai...

(Yes...
The love that exists in your eyes today
The commitment of a lifelong relationship
It’s a divine thread non-breakable
And that (the love) is every mother’s sword...

Like today...
You my daughter, have become a mother...)

Haan...
Dua “Ain” hai maa ki tere liye....
Har ek pal ** khushiyon ka tu jo jiye....
Banegi tu jab naani ek din kabhi...
Meri dil ko mehsoos karegi tabhi...
Khair aaj...
Tu meri beti, khud mumma bani hai....

(Yes...
Your mothers prayers for you from her core...
Every moment that you like may be filled with happiness...
And one day when you will become a grandma
Then you will know how my heart feels right now...

However today...
You my daughter, have become a mother...)
Its tough to bring up a child on your own



You ser Roalyn joan Parkse was a single mum who every day, struggled
Through life, trying to raise her 3 year old daughter Katie, you see Katie's father
Was a ******, and yes,,Roslyn was ***** into being pregnant, she wanted an abortion
At first,,but then she was thnkimg, she always wanted to be a mum, so she decided to take
The risk and give birth to her daughter, but it's hard because, every day she went out
She kept looking at her daughter,,and then she'll have a horrible thought, that, what if,,she
Met her ****** again,,and she made a pact not to tell Katie who her real father is, mainly
Because, Roslyn wanted to make sure that Katie knows that she loves her.
The day after Roslyn gave birth to Katie, the father was sentenced to 45 years gaol, and
When Roslym heard that, she was relieved, because she can be at peace, and that made her live her life, making sure Katie is protected.
Roslym had her hands full trying to juggle raising her baby, on the little bit of money that the government gives her with the baby bonus, and she was told she wasn't eligible for any type of pension,,but if she, is willing to sit in on an interview with the men at centrelink, she might be able to receive the single mothers pension in 5 months, and Roslyn was a bit hostile about sitting in on an interview because, that's how her life with Katie's father was,
You see, Roslyn's parents hated Katie's father because they knew that he was bad news, and another thing too, they also knew that he was capable of anything.
You see Roslyn, as a child was easily led into any relationship, and also she was easily to be taken advantage of, and even if Katie's father appeared nice to her, he really was a really horrible man.
You see he started to muck with Roslyn, to keep her away from the family, and then when
He did that successfully, he will lure her into his bedroom,,and make sure that Roslyn was unaware of what he was putting her through, when Roslyn started to see sense, he gave her an illegal drug, which he said was a panadol after trying to calm her down, yes,  go felt better, but she was under a stupid dillusion that Katie's father was Mr Wonderful.
But she was drugged when she was showing signs of understanding that she is in the wrong relationship.
Roslyn's parents were frantic, as they were really worried that Roslyn was not calling .
them, and even when Roslyn's father died when she was 25, Roslyn was given another illegal drug to make Roslyn be really spaced out, so she can be too out of it, to attend her father's funeral.
And despite Roslyn's mother worrying why her own daughter wouldn't go to her daddy's funeral, she started to worry, and went on a mission to try and find and rescue her daughter, because, she was thinking that this is stupid, this horrible man, whose name was Jack Robsrts, was trying to force her daughter just to keep away from being a family person.
And when she eventually found Roslyn, of course when she knocked on the door, and Javk answered it, and when he saw Roslyn's mum standing there, he tried to shut the door into her face but as he did that, Roslyn's mum, used what she learnt in self defence class,,and knocked him out with one punch and she went straight up to the top bedroom and there she found Roslyn spaced out on the illegal drugs that Jack gave her, and when she was bringing her down the stairs, Jack got up and then grabbed the nearest knife and decided to hold a little hostage situation, but Jack was unaware that Roslyn's mum called the police, and despite the police sitting outside Jack's house for 2 hours,,they finally rescued Roslyn and her mum, from Jacks evil clutches, and they were put into an ambulance to be checked over, while Jack was arrested and yes as we told you, he was sentenced to 45 years behind bars,,but as Roslyn was being checked out by the doctors, which they saw she was drugged and also she was pregnant, and despite having an argument with her mother about it,,she decided to do what she wants and keep the baby,  because, Roslyn knew as long as Katie was unaware of who her real father was while being young, everything will be alright.
But her life was a complete nightmare, trying to raise Katie, always looking over her shoulder making sure that nobody was following her, and even though Roslym tried to keep a brave face, she was really suffering, looking after her baby, and she started to wish she
Listened to her mum when she said to have an abortion, but she wanted Katie to be unaware of how she really felt.
Each birthday that Katie had, Roslyn tried to make sure that Katie had heaps of friends to play with, and her first birthday Roslyn thought it was cute that Katie was doing baby talk with all her little friends, and she tried to make Katie feel so special, on her first birthday, and since then Roslyn struggled through life, trying to juggle her social chit chat with friends as well as giving her mum babysitting duties,,yes she started to feel good about her decision to keep Katie and at Christmas Roslyn met a man, and because of her track record with men, her mum was concerned even if she had met him and thinks he s charming but so was Jack, but that's in the past and Roslyn's mum told herself to trust her daughters man, and not think about Jack, because it will be good to have a father for Katie, so she kept it under her hat.
And on Katie's second birthday, yes she had a party and yes she made a lot of new friends, and Roslyn was happy because she was fooling around with her new man, whose name was Kenneth Kopland, and Kenneth asked Roslyn for her hand in marriage and Roslyn accepted, and when she told her mum, she tried to keep a brave face, hoping that she wssn't about to make a big mistake.
And 3 days before the wedding in November of that year,,Roslyn heard that Jack had escaped from prison with a couple of inmates and she was so worried she told her mum and despite days of putting it off, she eventually told Kenneth who made Roslyn feel protected by this man, and he told her, Roslyn, just stick with me, and you'll be safe, and after her honeymoon and then Christmas where  Kenneth dressed up as Santa for Katie and on New years eve, Roslyn was pregnant, with her second child but she was still worried that Jack was out to get her, and when Roslyn was out with her girlfriends, Jack noticed her with a little girl who looks like it could be his, but because she wouldn't touch him with a 30 foot pole, he had two arrange a little hostage situation for her,,and mate, if Jack doesn't get what he wants, he will ****.
So the day before Katie's third birthday, Roslyn and Kenneth were getting ready to go
To New York to visit Kenneth's parents but while they were doing that, Jack paid a little visit on Roslyn's mum, where he held her hostage, untill she tells him where Roslyn lives, and after 4 hours of yelling at Jack to leave her be, she told a little white lie, that Roslyn died in hospital that day, and then Jack left, knowing she was lying, but he will plan this little situation for her and then in a couple more weeks when Roslyn returned to her home town,
With Katie and Kenneth, Jack saw Roslyn in the car, and decided to follow her and yes he knew exactly where she lived now,,and it was only,a matter of time for him to make his move.
And the next day, Kenneth left for work, and Roslyn stayed at home and just kept an eye and it wasn't till she decided to go for a little walk,,she noticed Jack, and she suddenly let out a big scream and then had a yelling match, till Jack got out his pistol and shot at Roslyn, hitting her right in her chest and then kidnapped his daughter Katie, but after 3 hours of searching, the police found Jack nursing Katie at a railway station and the arrested Jack and put him back in prison and 3 hours later, Roslyn had passed away and she lost her baby as well and this made Roslyn 's mother and husband very scared as they move in to help raise Katie together because Kenneth didn't want to give her up, and when Katie was,,she was told the truth about her mother and father, and when Roslyn's mum passed away, Katie read the horrific story of how much pain her mum suffered being ***** back then, and after her grandmas funeral, she lived happily ever after with Kenneth and his new woman Josephine.
miranda schooler Nov 2013
there are days when there is no way
not even a chance
that i dare for even a second glance at the reflection of my body in the mirror and she knows why
like i know why she only cries when she feels she’s about to lose control
she knows how much control is worth
knows how much a woman can lose when her power to move
is taken away
by a grip so thick with hate it could clip the wings of god
send the next eight generations of your blood shaking
and tonight something inside me is breaking

my heart beating so deep beneath the sheets of pain
i could give every tear she’s crying a name
a year
and a face i’d forever erase if i could just like she would
for you
or me
but how free would any of us be if even a few forgot what too many women in this world cannot
and what the hell would you tell your daughter ?

your someday-daughter when you have to hold her beautiful face to the beat-up face of this place that hasn’t learned the meaning of
STOP
what would you tell you daughter
of the womb ***** empty ?
the eyes swollen shut , the gut too frightened to hold food
it was seven minutes of the worst kind of hell
seven

and she stopped believing in heaven
mistrust became her law , fear her bible , the only chance of survival
don’t trust any of them
bolt the doors to your home , iron-gate the windows , walking to the car alone , get the key in the lock .
please
please , please , please open
like already she can feel the five-fingered noose around her neck , two-hundred pounds of hate digging graves into the sacred soil of her flesh
please
please , please , please , please open
already she can hear the broken-record of the defense :
“ answer the question , answer the question , answer the question miss ”
why am i on trial for this ?
would you talk to your mother , your daughter , your sister like this ?
i am generations of mothers , daughters , sisters
our bodies battlefields , war zones beneath the weapons of your brothers’ hands
do you know they've found land mines in broken women’s souls ?
black holes in the parts of their hearts that once sang symphonies of creation as bright as the light on infinity’s halo ?

she said , i remember how love used to glow like glitter on my skin before he made his way in ,
now every touch feels like a sin that could crucify medusa .
bury me in a blue blanket so god doesn't know i’m a girl ,
cut off my curls ,
I want peace when i’m dead

her friend knocks at the door , it’s been three weeks , don’t you think it’s time you got out of bed ?
no.
the ceiling fan still feeling like his breath , i think i need just a few more days of rest
bruises on her knees from begging to forget
she’s heard stories of vietnam vets who can still feel the tingling of their amputated limbs
she’s wondering how many women are walking around this world still feeling the tingling of their amputated wings ,
remembering what it was to fly ,
to sing

tonight
she’s not wondering what she would tell her daughter
she knows what she would tell her daughter ,
she’d ask her what gods do you believe in?
i’ll build you temple of mirrors so you can see them
pick the brightest star you ever wished on and i’ll show the light in you that made that wish come true

tonight
she’s not asking what you would tell your daughter , she’s life deep in the hell , the slaughter
has already died a thousand deaths with every unsteady breath
a thousand graves in every pore of her flesh
and she knows the war’s not over ,
she knows there’s bleeding to come
knows she’s far from the only woman or girl trusting this world no more than the hands trust rusted barbed wire

she was whole before that night ,
believed in heaven before that night
and she knows she’s not only one , knows she won’t be the only one

tonight
she’s not asking
what you’re gonna tell your daughter ,
she’s asking what
you’re going to teach
your **son
The fight between Trojans and Achaeans was now left to rage as it
would, and the tide of war surged hither and thither over the plain as
they aimed their bronze-shod spears at one another between the streams
of Simois and Xanthus.
  First, Ajax son of Telamon, tower of strength to the Achaeans, broke
a phalanx of the Trojans, and came to the assistance of his comrades
by killing Acamas son of Eussorus, the best man among the Thracians,
being both brave and of great stature. The spear struck the projecting
peak of his helmet: its bronze point then went through his forehead
into the brain, and darkness veiled his eyes.
  Then Diomed killed Axylus son of Teuthranus, a rich man who lived in
the strong city of Arisbe, and was beloved by all men; for he had a
house by the roadside, and entertained every one who passed; howbeit
not one of his guests stood before him to save his life, and Diomed
killed both him and his squire Calesius, who was then his
charioteer—so the pair passed beneath the earth.
  Euryalus killed Dresus and Opheltius, and then went in pursuit of
Aesepus and Pedasus, whom the naiad nymph Abarbarea had borne to noble
Bucolion. Bucolion was eldest son to Laomedon, but he was a *******.
While tending his sheep he had converse with the nymph, and she
conceived twin sons; these the son of Mecisteus now slew, and he
stripped the armour from their shoulders. Polypoetes then killed
Astyalus, Ulysses Pidytes of Percote, and Teucer Aretaon. Ablerus fell
by the spear of Nestor’s son Antilochus, and Agamemnon, king of men,
killed Elatus who dwelt in Pedasus by the banks of the river
Satnioeis. Leitus killed Phylacus as he was flying, and Eurypylus slew
Melanthus.
  Then Menelaus of the loud war-cry took Adrestus alive, for his
horses ran into a tamarisk bush, as they were flying wildly over the
plain, and broke the pole from the car; they went on towards the
city along with the others in full flight, but Adrestus rolled out,
and fell in the dust flat on his face by the wheel of his chariot;
Menelaus came up to him spear in hand, but Adrestus caught him by
the knees begging for his life. “Take me alive,” he cried, “son of
Atreus, and you shall have a full ransom for me: my father is rich and
has much treasure of gold, bronze, and wrought iron laid by in his
house. From this store he will give you a large ransom should he
hear of my being alive and at the ships of the Achaeans.”
  Thus did he plead, and Menelaus was for yielding and giving him to a
squire to take to the ships of the Achaeans, but Agamemnon came
running up to him and rebuked him. “My good Menelaus,” said he,
“this is no time for giving quarter. Has, then, your house fared so
well at the hands of the Trojans? Let us not spare a single one of
them—not even the child unborn and in its mother’s womb; let not a
man of them be left alive, but let all in Ilius perish, unheeded and
forgotten.”
  Thus did he speak, and his brother was persuaded by him, for his
words were just. Menelaus, therefore, ****** Adrestus from him,
whereon King Agamemnon struck him in the flank, and he fell: then
the son of Atreus planted his foot upon his breast to draw his spear
from the body.
  Meanwhile Nestor shouted to the Argives, saying, “My friends, Danaan
warriors, servants of Mars, let no man lag that he may spoil the dead,
and bring back much ***** to the ships. Let us **** as many as we can;
the bodies will lie upon the plain, and you can despoil them later
at your leisure.”
  With these words he put heart and soul into them all. And now the
Trojans would have been routed and driven back into Ilius, had not
Priam’s son Helenus, wisest of augurs, said to Hector and Aeneas,
“Hector and Aeneas, you two are the mainstays of the Trojans and
Lycians, for you are foremost at all times, alike in fight and
counsel; hold your ground here, and go about among the host to rally
them in front of the gates, or they will fling themselves into the
arms of their wives, to the great joy of our foes. Then, when you have
put heart into all our companies, we will stand firm here and fight
the Danaans however hard they press us, for there is nothing else to
be done. Meanwhile do you, Hector, go to the city and tell our
mother what is happening. Tell her to bid the matrons gather at the
temple of Minerva in the acropolis; let her then take her key and open
the doors of the sacred building; there, upon the knees of Minerva,
let her lay the largest, fairest robe she has in her house—the one
she sets most store by; let her, moreover, promise to sacrifice twelve
yearling heifers that have never yet felt the goad, in the temple of
the goddess, if she will take pity on the town, with the wives and
little ones of the Trojans, and keep the son of Tydeus from falling on
the goodly city of Ilius; for he fights with fury and fills men’s
souls with panic. I hold him mightiest of them all; we did not fear
even their great champion Achilles, son of a goddess though he be,
as we do this man: his rage is beyond all bounds, and there is none
can vie with him in prowess”
  Hector did as his brother bade him. He sprang from his chariot,
and went about everywhere among the host, brandishing his spears,
urging the men on to fight, and raising the dread cry of battle.
Thereon they rallied and again faced the Achaeans, who gave ground and
ceased their murderous onset, for they deemed that some one of the
immortals had come down from starry heaven to help the Trojans, so
strangely had they rallied. And Hector shouted to the Trojans,
“Trojans and allies, be men, my friends, and fight with might and
main, while I go to Ilius and tell the old men of our council and
our wives to pray to the gods and vow hecatombs in their honour.”
  With this he went his way, and the black rim of hide that went round
his shield beat against his neck and his ancles.
  Then Glaucus son of Hippolochus, and the son of Tydeus went into the
open space between the hosts to fight in single combat. When they were
close up to one another Diomed of the loud war-cry was the first to
speak. “Who, my good sir,” said he, “who are you among men? I have
never seen you in battle until now, but you are daring beyond all
others if you abide my onset. Woe to those fathers whose sons face
my might. If, however, you are one of the immortals and have come down
from heaven, I will not fight you; for even valiant Lycurgus, son of
Dryas, did not live long when he took to fighting with the gods. He it
was that drove the nursing women who were in charge of frenzied
Bacchus through the land of Nysa, and they flung their thyrsi on the
ground as murderous Lycurgus beat them with his oxgoad. Bacchus
himself plunged terror-stricken into the sea, and Thetis took him to
her ***** to comfort him, for he was scared by the fury with which the
man reviled him. Thereon the gods who live at ease were angry with
Lycurgus and the son of Saturn struck him blind, nor did he live
much longer after he had become hateful to the immortals. Therefore
I will not fight with the blessed gods; but if you are of them that
eat the fruit of the ground, draw near and meet your doom.”
  And the son of Hippolochus answered, son of Tydeus, why ask me of my
lineage? Men come and go as leaves year by year upon the trees.
Those of autumn the wind sheds upon the ground, but when spring
returns the forest buds forth with fresh vines. Even so is it with the
generations of mankind, the new spring up as the old are passing away.
If, then, you would learn my descent, it is one that is well known
to many. There is a city in the heart of Argos, pasture land of
horses, called Ephyra, where Sisyphus lived, who was the craftiest
of all mankind. He was the son of ******, and had a son named Glaucus,
who was father to Bellerophon, whom heaven endowed with the most
surpassing comeliness and beauty. But Proetus devised his ruin, and
being stronger than he, drove him from the land of the Argives, over
which Jove had made him ruler. For Antea, wife of Proetus, lusted
after him, and would have had him lie with her in secret; but
Bellerophon was an honourable man and would not, so she told lies
about him to Proteus. ‘Proetus,’ said she, ‘**** Bellerophon or die,
for he would have had converse with me against my will.’ The king
was angered, but shrank from killing Bellerophon, so he sent him to
Lycia with lying letters of introduction, written on a folded
tablet, and containing much ill against the bearer. He bade
Bellerophon show these letters to his father-in-law, to the end that
he might thus perish; Bellerophon therefore went to Lycia, and the
gods convoyed him safely.
  “When he reached the river Xanthus, which is in Lycia, the king
received him with all goodwill, feasted him nine days, and killed nine
heifers in his honour, but when rosy-fingered morning appeared upon
the tenth day, he questioned him and desired to see the letter from
his son-in-law Proetus. When he had received the wicked letter he
first commanded Bellerophon to **** that savage monster, the Chimaera,
who was not a human being, but a goddess, for she had the head of a
lion and the tail of a serpent, while her body was that of a goat, and
she breathed forth flames of fire; but Bellerophon slew her, for he
was guided by signs from heaven. He next fought the far-famed
Solymi, and this, he said, was the hardest of all his battles.
Thirdly, he killed the Amazons, women who were the peers of men, and
as he was returning thence the king devised yet another plan for his
destruction; he picked the bravest warriors in all Lycia, and placed
them in ambuscade, but not a man ever came back, for Bellerophon
killed every one of them. Then the king knew that he must be the
valiant offspring of a god, so he kept him in Lycia, gave him his
daughter in marriage, and made him of equal honour in the kingdom with
himself; and the Lycians gave him a piece of land, the best in all the
country, fair with vineyards and tilled fields, to have and to hold.
  “The king’s daughter bore Bellerophon three children, Isander,
Hippolochus, and Laodameia. Jove, the lord of counsel, lay with
Laodameia, and she bore him noble Sarpedon; but when Bellerophon
came to be hated by all the gods, he wandered all desolate and
dismayed upon the Alean plain, gnawing at his own heart, and
shunning the path of man. Mars, insatiate of battle, killed his son
Isander while he was fighting the Solymi; his daughter was killed by
Diana of the golden reins, for she was angered with her; but
Hippolochus was father to myself, and when he sent me to Troy he urged
me again and again to fight ever among the foremost and outvie my
peers, so as not to shame the blood of my fathers who were the noblest
in Ephyra and in all Lycia. This, then, is the descent I claim.”
  Thus did he speak, and the heart of Diomed was glad. He planted
his spear in the ground, and spoke to him with friendly words. “Then,”
he said, you are an old friend of my father’s house. Great Oeneus once
entertained Bellerophon for twenty days, and the two exchanged
presents. Oeneus gave a belt rich with purple, and Bellerophon a
double cup, which I left at home when I set out for Troy. I do not
remember Tydeus, for he was taken from us while I was yet a child,
when the army of the Achaeans was cut to pieces before Thebes.
Henceforth, however, I must be your host in middle Argos, and you mine
in Lycia, if I should ever go there; let us avoid one another’s spears
even during a general engagement; there are many noble Trojans and
allies whom I can ****, if I overtake them and heaven delivers them
into my hand; so again with yourself, there are many Achaeans whose
lives you may take if you can; we two, then, will exchange armour,
that all present may know of the old ties that subsist between us.”
  With these words they sprang from their chariots, grasped one
another’s hands, and plighted friendship. But the son of Saturn made
Glaucus take leave of his wits, for he exchanged golden armour for
bronze, the worth of a hundred head of cattle for the worth of nine.
  Now when Hector reached the Scaean gates and the oak tree, the wives
and daughters of the Trojans came running towards him to ask after
their sons, brothers, kinsmen, and husbands: he told them to set about
praying to the gods, and many were made sorrowful as they heard him.
  Presently he reached the splendid palace of King Priam, adorned with
colonnades of hewn stone. In it there were fifty bedchambers—all of
hewn stone—built near one another, where the sons of Priam slept,
each with his wedded wife. Opposite these, on the other side the
courtyard, there were twelve upper rooms also of hewn stone for
Priam’s daughters, built near one another, where his sons-in-law slept
with their wives. When Hector got there, his fond mother came up to
him with Laodice the fairest of her daughters. She took his hand
within her own and said, “My son, why have you left the battle to come
hither? Are the Achaeans, woe betide them, pressing you hard about the
city that you have thought fit to come and uplift your hands to Jove
from the citadel? Wait till I can bring you wine that you may make
offering to Jove and to the other immortals, and may then drink and be
refreshed. Wine gives a man fresh strength when he is wearied, as
you now are with fighting on behalf of your kinsmen.”
  And Hector answered, “Honoured mother, bring no wine, lest you unman
me and I forget my strength. I dare not make a drink-offering to
Jove with unwashed hands; one who is bespattered with blood and
filth may not pray to the son of Saturn. Get the matrons together, and
go with offerings to the temple of Minerva driver of the spoil; there,
upon the knees of Minerva, lay the largest and fairest robe you have
in your house—the one you set most store by; promise, moreover, to
sacrifice twelve yearling heifers that have never yet felt the goad,
in the temple of the goddess if she will take pity on the town, with
the wives and little ones of the Trojans, and keep the son of Tydeus
from off the goodly city of Ilius, for he fights with fury, and
fills men’s souls with panic. Go, then, to the temple of Minerva,
while I seek Paris and exhort him, if he will hear my words. Would
that the earth might open her jaws and swallow him, for Jove bred
him to be the bane of the Trojans, and of Priam and Priam’s sons.
Could I but see him go down into the house of Hades, my heart would
forget its heaviness.”
  His mother went into the house and called her waiting-women who
gathered the matrons throughout the city. She then went down into
her fragrant store-room, where her embroidered robes were kept, the
work of Sidonian women, whom Alexandrus had brought over from Sidon
when he sailed the seas upon that voyage during which he carried off
Helen. Hecuba took out the largest robe, and the one that was most
beautifully enriched with embroidery, as an offering to Minerva: it
glittered like a star, and lay at the very bottom of the chest. With
this she went on her way and many matrons with her.
  When they reached the temple of Minerva, lovely Theano, daughter
of Cisseus and wife of Antenor, opened the doors, for the Trojans
had made her priestess of Minerva. The women lifted up their hands
to the goddess with a loud cry, and Theano took the robe to lay it
upon the knees of Minerva, praying the while to the daughter of
great Jove. “Holy Minerva,” she cried, “protectress of our city,
mighty goddess, break the spear of Diomed and lay him low before the
Scaean gates. Do this, and we will sacrifice twelve heifers that
have never yet known the goad, in your temple, if you will have pity
upon the town, with the wives and little ones If the Trojans.” Thus
she prayed, but Pallas Minerva granted not her prayer.
  While they were thus praying to the daughter of great Jove, Hector
went to the fair house of Alexandrus, which he had built for him by
the foremost builders in the land. They had built him his house,
storehouse, and courtyard near those of Priam and Hector on the
acropolis. Here Hector entered, with a spear eleven cubits long in his
hand; the bronze point gleamed in front of him, and was fastened
Àŧùl Apr 2017
^_^
Angel?
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Called The Girl Out Without Knowing Her Name,
"Hey Young Lady!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looked Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I Thought I Saw Despair In Her Amber Eyes & Must Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Called My Captain & Asked, "Do You See A Girl In That Raft?"
The Captain Just Replied Kindly, "Commodore, Get Married,"
I Looked Apprehensive And He Just Said, "There's No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Enter My Room Down The Stairs Amazed & Confused,
She Floated There As She Waited By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of Hers And Start To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.

7 Paragraphs of a Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream


Angel Again?

Now I reached the lands again,
Still dazzled and confused I was,
From the encounter with that Angel,
Oh, how she had filled my twilight,
Unable to forget her divinely touch.

Magical touch had enchanted me,
Able to recall it from the voyage,
I stumbled when disembarking,
Oh, it was the first time for me,
My thoughts would last along.

After so many days at the sea,
I planned of bathing properly,
Her illusion tricked me thereto,
Oh how her traces remained on,
Facing mirror, I stood perplexed.

Still unable to accept the reality,
I longed for that night to repeat,
My heart beats Angel in each beat,
Life staged a drama too crazy,
Unwilling to accept the reality.

My body carries the vestiges,
I turn crazier with each bath,
Her lips' traces keep appearing,
Driving me mad is her memory,
God! Bring her to life once more.

I had my powers as a commodore,
I sent for the captain of my ship,
"What bothers you, my commodore,"
And so he asked of me kindly,
Then I told him of her traces.

Smiling he told me yet again,
"I had told you to get married,"
I agreed this time and nodded,
"Alright, search for me a bride,"
Going outside, he smiled plainly.


Angel Surely?

Till Few Months Of Reaching Back,
I Kept Seeing Her Images All Over,
It Drove Me Crazy Her Presence...

Taking Time Out To Search Her Out,
I Went For The Mountainous Path,
It May Cease I Hope These Dreams.

The Horse Made Me Look A Knight,
I Set Out Solo For The Dark Creeks,
It Helped Me Realize My Solo Aim...

Then She Came Into My View Again,
I Prepared For Tackling My Illusion,
It Started Snowing Out Of Nowhere.

Took Me To A Safer Place She Then,
I Was Bewildered Again Once More,
It Was Clearing But She Vanished...

Then On My Way, I Stopped To Rest,
I Looked Around For A Place To Sit,
It Came To My View A Huge Tavern.

Tavern On A Mountain Was Weird,
I Still Went To It Hoping Some Rest,
It Had Appeared Out Of Nowhere...


Angel Illusion?

I Peered Out Of The Room Windows,
I Was In This Desolate Guesthouse,
It Was A Comfortable Rest House,
And Here I Was In Anticipation,
Angel Or Whosoever Was Awaited,
Will She Pop Into My Vision Here Too,
Was It Only A Seasick Mind's Illusion?

Was All That Really Just An Illusion,
Thinking This I Prepared For Bed,
Then I Felt A Flute Was Playing,
Looked Into Sound's Direction,
All I Saw Then Was Foggy Night,
My Own Reflection Was Also Visible,
Slightly If Not Entirely Can Be Seen.

I Recalled The First Night At The Sea,
She Did Appear On The Towed Raft,
A Beautiful Mermaid I Had Seen,
Now I Did Remember It Clearly,
My Face Was No Longer Mine,
Yes It Was The Beautiful face of hers,
She Wasn't Sad As I Did Remember.

She Was Smiling So Very Divinely,
Her Brown Eyes Stared So Cutely,
More Divine Felt She Was Really,
I Thought That It Was So Early,
My Pocket Watch Showed Three,
I Took My Eyes Off And Went To Bed,
Then & There She Was Lying For Me.

I Again Let My Mind Play Games,
Never Did Imagine Turning Mad,
Now I Was Not Feeling As Bad,
Neither I Wanted To Break It,
Nor It Felt Like One Anymore,
This Was The Dream I Loved To Live,
As If The Boon Was Presented To Me.

She Smiled As I Sat On The Bed,
I Asked Her, "Are You Real?"
"Yes, Just As Your Thoughts,"
I Then Just Stared At Her Lips,
She Then Touched Me Again,
Hands As Soft As That Night At Sea,
I Just Felt Like Opposing Her Touch.

I Blankly Smiled And Thought,
'My Thoughts Are Surely Real,'
Then I Just Let Her Guide Me,
The Moon Shone So Bright,
It Just Felt Really So Very Right,
Resigning I Just Let My Illusion Win,
It's Love We Were Sharing, Not A Sin.


Angel Not Again!!!

I recovered from the night again,
She had disappeared once more,
Was she using me as a ******???

I was frustrated & also saddened,
My self-control got strengthened,
For I was not a tissue to be used!!!

I have my feelings & my emotions,
Presence and absence torture me,
Ego I had tamed got hurt by now...

I won't let that elusive Angel come,
Questioning I must be her realities,
Illusions will end this time finally!!!

I'll establish an identity of my own,
Dependent I'll not be on the angel,
Was she only a dream & no more???

I had duly asked the aged captain,
To search for a lovely bride very soon,
Oh, so sure I am about afterwards...

I was tailed by the spirit-like angel,
So irritated by her dreary dreams,
On-off, came-gone, again & again!!!

I now would learn to catch angels,
With the plan, I went to the mage,
Should I now learn some spells???

I entered through a dark alleyway,
Was told to visit this strange place,
What comes across - I wondered...

I knocked on the door & she appeared,
Very young she seemed to me now,
Just the age of the angel of dreams!!!

I noticed that she wore a long robe,
So shiny it was silvery like her hair,
Just like the angel of dreams wore...

I rubbed my tired eyes in disbelief,
"Who're you?" I asked very loudly,
"Are you the mage's daughter???"

I wondered for long & she replied,
"Your guess is correct, kind Sailor,"
She beckoned me into the shack...

I set my foot on the wooden floor,
I looked for any sign of the mage,
I want to be set free of the cage!!!

I just thought & thought about it,
But the witch was not to be seen,
Curious I asked, "Where is she???"

"I am my mother," she said calmly,
Perplexed I couldn't say a thing,
My mouth opened once & shut...

I was now about to rise & go away,
But she stopped me with her arms,
"I must show you," so she did say!!!

I did not believe what my eyes saw,
How she changed into the old mage,
Then back into her own daughter???

O I had become confused a lot now,
Why would she transform like this,
I feared if it was actually the angel...


Angel Forever?

Seeing me anxious more than a lot,
The old witch relented a little,
She let me breathe freely,
Back transformed into her daughter,
She touched my forehead,
Then I realized it was sweaty,
Seeing her lovely care I smiled a bit.

So she now lit up a fragrant incense,
The incense seemed so soothing,
She then edged closer to me,
Transcendental wings were visible,
She came even closer to me,
Then the wings simply vanished,
So traceless as if never been there.

It must have been another illusion,
The very day I had set sail to sea,
It was probably carrying over,
Troubling me each non and then,
In my wild dreams, I had seen,
True she could not be & was not,
In my life, the torment was written.

Soon I was pleading to her teary-eyed,
"Please don't torment me, it hurts!"
She looked at me with affection,
And said, "But I truly love you, sailor,"
She advanced forwards further,
"Have you forgotten all those nights?
Did you even forget the night at sea?"

I first remembered that night at sea,
The night back at home came next,
I had been seduced by her magic,
This was the real picture every time,
I was weak but I still felt warmer,
The night ship feels like yesterday,
I was in confusion about what to do.

Her face was transitioning rapidly,
The old mother to her daughter,
Her daughter to that very angel,
And back to the old mother witch,
Her smile turned into laughter,
The witch laughing at my cries,
Her face here was contorted a lot.

She seemed to be struggling a lot,
As though fight ensued within,
Soon I figured it out by myself,
First I must **** the witch to help,
So I looked around & grabbed,
The axe that I did spot lying there,
Spot on I killed the witch right then.


Angel Ultimately?
The saga in her eyes converts into a constant downpour soon after she realized her freedom from the spell of the dark witch, the curse had turned her a prisoner in the evil witch's body.

"Kind sailor thank thee for freeing me."
Her words reverberating throughout,
What wind - what land - what sea,
Everywhere is her presence as I can see,
The wind whispers her name in my ear,
Since a long long time now all I wear,
Is her scent in my immortalized memory.

"Will you stay with me forever, or,
Will you go back to the heavens?"
Though I really wanted her to stay,
I love her and realize what she felt,
I offered her freedom and a choice,
I was not binding her to me in turn,
Everything was instinctive for me.

She seemed in a serious dilemma,
Struggling hard she was in herself,
I again offered & insisted this time,
"It's better you went back to your world,"
But I knew that she loved me a lot,
She tried hard controlling but said,
"I am in love with you for long."

So I am quite right that she loves me,
I am sure even she can forget me not,
Beading all our memories together,
I now know how I can gain salvation,
Not being another self-centric tantric,
"But you don't belong here dear,
So you shouldn't restrict yourself."

After this, she now looks comfortable & composed,
Ready for making a choice she wore a heart of stone,
Her lips slowly parted revealing a perfect smile,
Pearly smile again ensured me of permanent happiness,
Bright eyes and shiny eyelids of hers seemed so good,
"You can't make me stay away because you love me too,
I will keep coming in your dreams and entice your nights."

But I wanted her in my real-world now,
I prevented her from vanishing again,
I said, "Please stay, now do not go away,
Because I really can not bear that pain,"
She had almost vanished by then,
Listening to my words she chose to wait,
She said, "Even I want forever to stay."

Continuing with her divine dialogue she said,
"Say those golden words to make me stay,"
I immediately confessed, "I love you, Angel,"
"Say you love me too, oh my divine Angel,"
She didn't wait for anything more to say it,
"I love you too, oh my kind & loving sailor,"
Her powers soon left her in a flash of light.
On public demand, I clubbed The "Angel?" Series into one poem.
Leonardo J Aug 2017
Today I saw a homeless man with a very long beard,
filthy,
sweating in the hot sun.
He rode a bicycle with a tall flag,  
cars sped by him.
A mother waited at a traffic light;
her daughter far, far away,
yet they sat side by side.  
Driving.  

Hot was the air,
and full of smog,
In the midst of the traffic the small orange flag fluttered,
as to signal to all,
that this man too carried precious cargo,
behind him a cart he pulled, he pedaled,
he towed;
a friend, a tired friend, and old friend, a friend in need.

In the eyes of this friend,
I saw an appreciation,
a happiness that glowed, radiated at the friend ahead who so dutifully pedaled on.
"SEE MY FLAG!
I too like this mother have precious cargo".

The daughter’s thumb glides up the glass,
then the thumb arrives back to the point where It started,
the thumb glides back up again,
with each glide that drags up the glass she further drifts from her mother.

The mother stares forward ,
she waits for the traffic signal,
she lets the passing of time flow through her,
it reminds her how the only thing all her years have taught her about time is that it is
subjective,
fleeting,
and that she must kneel to it.

The daughter smiles for the glass has pleased her,
The mother does not smile,
for she is not of the glass,
the mother, remembers when the daughter was 4 years old and all the daughter wanted was to be with her.
An eternity ago,
Yet less than a decade,
but she now knows the knack,
for even now she can feel it,
time is subjective,
she knows her daughter will learn as she did,
the realization and worship of TIME.

There is a solitude and loneliness that a homeless person must endure,
I cowardly imagine a world
where I had no one,
no one who cared enough to be anyone in my life,
to live in the street,
to be nowhere.
When the entirety of the populace pays you no mind.
When you do not count.

The daughter's thumb dances,
it quickly glides up the glass once again.
Her head has not yet turned to her mother,
The person who loves her more than anything in the world is next to her,
yet the unstoppable hourglass of days seems so plump,
so plentiful,
thinks the daughter,
as her opposable thumb does nothing for her evolution,
secretions of dopamine trickle through her brain,
and the heart in the glass now shows 263.

The homeless man tows a friend,
a friend who has accepted him despite his stench,  
his addiction,
his lack of home,
food,
money, car, hygiene;
The homeless man pedals on,
burning precious calories from the food that he doesn’t have,
I see a relationship in them void of judgement,
but full an unconditional love that we ever very rarely see,
outside of our Father;
our Mother.

The light changes green, and the cars begin to move,
the traffic catches up to the homeless man, cars begin to swerve around them,
I hear a bark,
the homeless man turns around ,
to check ,
to  see,
what his only friend, his most trusted, his only bond, his reason for existing needs.  

The daughter has not yet looked at her mother,  

Driving driving driving.
in the forgotten, in the filthy, in the animal; may you find the purity of that which we are truly impoverished.
Sharina Saad May 2013
Dear Daughter,
Again you let me down
You didn't meet my expectation
Saw my face in Hall of shame,
Held my head real down
Big disappointment...
Where shall I hide my face?

My Friends topic of the week,
My daughter... your daughter... her daughter
Juicy gossips...
Straight A's, no straight A's
You put me in A total mess
I really felt out of place...

Defense mechanism,
pointing my fingers straight
It was easy to put the blame on you
My ego was big of course,
I denied the fact that...
I set a standard too high...
The benchmark was me
Forced you to compete with perfection
Forgotten the fact that you are you
Never could be me... or anybody else
My achievement, my capabilities were different
and yours were yours alone...
incomparable to me, incomparable to others

Unintentionally, I molded a double
Designed my clone
Created another hall of fame
But I was wrong to play god's role
When he created you,
You were your unique self
a different special individual...

Dear Daughter,
From now on...
I let you be you
Please forgive me for my ignorance,
insensitivity... but trust me
I'd be proud that I am part of you...
and I'd pray to god you'd be successful
your own way.....

With Love,
Mummy...
every parents should be proud of their kids achievement. Not every children is born a genius.

— The End —