"foremothers" poems
I bid you all a fond farewell
As these bones turn to dust in capitalist shackles.
No more will my voice be silenced
By gender roles and repression.
My foremothers gave me my rights nearly a century ago
And you still act like it’s pocket change.
No more.
I will rise above this consumerist nation
And be heard.
Feminism means equality, not women over men.
Don’t take offense when I lock my car doors.
You’ve proven yourselves untrustworthy.
“Not all men.”
But enough men.
I am not backing down; I am not giving in.
I am breaking free of conformity,
Barely comfortable in the skin you told me was imperfect.
Flip-flopping your beliefs; I am never good enough for you.
But I will always be good enough for myself.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 2:47 PM UTC
A MOTHERS ROLE
WITHIIN THE TRIBAL FAMILY
She is a warrior in her own right
Guardian
Protector
Of all that is hers
The teacher of all things
To her family
The tribe
The hunter and gatherer
Out there in the front line
With men gathering in the spoils of victory
Over Buffalo and Bison
With their child strapped
In the papoose
The Warrior mother
Has no liking for material objects
Her mind only set on what is really required
Warmth, shelter, their blankets and clothing
And all importantly the food for the family
Is enough for this warrior mother
She claims no fame
There is no gain
For she is part of the entire
Tribal family
This warrior mother
Will never put herself above anyone else
Will always be there for others in need
This mother’s role
Is the teacher of all that once was
From generation to generation
Stories to be told
Legends of warriors
Forefathers and foremothers
Telling the stories
Of how life can be
Making the children ready
For their own life’s
Ventures
Adventures
And
Histories
© Helen Moule
1st May 2012
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
I can fare any roads, any paths
Often traveled or never seen
Because, on my paths,
I will always follow what I have grasped.
From failure recover and feel appeased
This is the only way to learn and succeed.
Failure, pain, and loss will strengthen me.
And all my paths will be blest
Because
I know what I Love
EverLasting,
And who I Love
Forever Lush.
Because
My love for family is pristine,
Mother Father
Brothers
Foremothers Forefathers.
Because
Fate will only guide me,
Never mislead me
Nor define me.
Because
I keep my beliefs in my heart,
But out of my mind
Where they would cloud my judgment.
And all my roads will hold no contest.
Because
I will not simply awaken each day,
But awaken each day with passion abreast.
Mar 11, 2012
Mar 11, 2012 at 4:08 AM UTC
Whimsical youth
absentmindedly fell -
cliffside,
abruptly.
Love to the stars,
oath taken to stone;
to help you,
instruct me.
~
Stillness the moorland
of cherry pie kiss,
unwilling
fruition.
Patience, wise virtue
foremothers instilled,
jeune fille
in submission.
~
Tame was the Beast
at the mountain's heart deep,
lethargic,
sleepwalking.
Wild was the Princess
in her dreams of pink sweet
sins, secrets,
unspoken.
~
Long were the years
under fallen rocks over.
Now doubtlessly
older.
Black was one night,
set her sadness alight,
but the ash left
her colder.
~
Monsters awakened,
set the footpath ablaze,
hopelessly
grieving.
Freedom I call
you, trying to persuade
you, truth
unforgiving.
Mar 18, 2021
Mar 18, 2021 at 7:03 PM UTC
Narrative Reportage for 8/2/2018
Home is the word we love to hear:
The dreams are never over,
They are always a break through: after the tears:
An x is lodge in our heads was it the,
rock, a tree, or the hidden board,
Time welt serve: time to cash in
Time uproot the rocks
that tree and those loose boards
would this be a happy ending?
You had choose the life of crime
The crime didn’t nail itself
Every day a black man
Under the age of twenty
Pulls the trigger, they turned off the light
He longs to return to his mother womb:
I see the love of their mothers
While she holds their hands at age three
at age twenty three I see the replacement :
the chrome bracelets: the resentment
Neflex the new society wants us to believe that orange is the new black:
**“Our ancestors have invented, we can at least innovate.”
― Amit Kalantri**
**“Oh Child
Look within
Find your ForeMothers
Find them
Find them”
― Malebo Sephodi**
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 10:33 AM UTC
Wooden Bowls and Wooden Spoons
items ***** and mundane
draw me into my shared history
with my foremothers
and theirs before them
The sharing of these simple things
of chopping, stirring, baking
snipping herbs and crafting soup
smoked meat served on wooden platters
such as might have been used
a hundred years ago
or ten thousand -
Wood has served us from the dawn of Humankind
as fuel for the fire
as shelter from the storm
as living trees producing oxygen
as things of beauty and inspiration,
of poignancy and pathos
There is a warmth to wood
absent in gold or sterling
the warmth of life - still with us
and once the meat is gone
the platter will cleanse itself of impurities
with the defenses remaining
from the tree it once was
protecting us yet again
keeping us safe from the dangers
outside of the circle of wood
With wood comes the danger of fire
this danger I accept
and brave the fire I will
to have the wood with me
to walk beneath and smell the perfume of the leaves
to feel them crunch beneath my feet
to see the earthworms retract
as I toe them from the path
I want my life to end
having given more than I have taken
and giving trees brings me joy
and makes the world a better place
a place in which there will never be too few trees
to be able to enjoy the feel
of wooden bowls and wooden spoons
where endless forests and healthy woods
add to this miraculous planet of Life
Cori MacNaughton
Apr 2002
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 2:27 PM UTC
The first time you kissed me it was a surprise, I wasn’t ready.
It was a sneak attack, funny ‘cause they say the girl ‘always knows.’
I think we’re lucky we didn’t chip a tooth.
The unexpected slowed me - ‘ok, that happened,’ I thought.
Because I’d wondered, before - ‘does he like me like THAT?’
Then suddenly you came into sharp focus, your lips, your eyes,
your goofy smile. It changed things, for us - like Jesus’s birth
changed time - there was before kiss (bk) and after kiss (ak).
We somehow kludged our way into love - the old-fashioned way
without navigation software, dating sites, hookup apps or breadcrumbs.
Like our foremothers and fathers or Columbus - we bumbled into a New World.
Jul 11, 2023
Jul 11, 2023 at 5:20 PM UTC
I will map the constellations of your sun-born freckles,
obsidian cinnamon blooming on forearms,
trace the reflection of starry foremothers onto skin
as a remembrance of origin.
And when we are light years apart,
I will draw your ancient imprint in the sand and lay amongst your roots,
soaking spirit into my heart.
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
In passing
Curved channels
Of green, brown and blue
I absorb information
‘Easy rider’
‘Star gazer’
‘Barge Gladys’
Where will you go?
Where will you end?
Such labels and markers sing
‘I made this’
‘I made that’
‘I am…this!’
Imprinted pride
Everywhere
Screams out names
For us
To forget
Grazing cows
Pay no heed
To the comings and goings
The ownings and claimings
And why should I?
The efforts of the dead
Our forefathers, foremothers
Rest beneath our feet
We break them
We use them
Unravelling the knots of the past
To smooth a silk pathway
To the future
Life’s suckling femininity
Never ending
A flow of humanity
Beats on
How strange our inventions
How peculiar our spirits
We add something daily
Without even knowing
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 1:41 PM UTC
I martyred the sins of my foremothers and forefathers
Therefore rebirthed an allegiance to the all
Which I was innately apart of from the beginning
They rose and sunk
I sunk and too shall rise
By Monique Lewis ©2016
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 9:30 PM UTC
Many years of distrust and mustered up anger
This *** boils over as it leaks sin
So I am supposed to forget about it
You know, the great war everyone ignores
My lips are supposed to take a back seat because your ears cannot bare a burden my foremothers and forefathers dealt
So you cry that I complain because your fear won't compromise with your brain
No I won't shut up!
As long as people suffer and animals whither away lifeless
And injustice strikes the feet of every person on this plane
I won't loosen my lips
I'll grip my hips and stare into the souls of the soulless
I won't shut up, I won't back down
By Monique Lewis ©2016
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 9:06 PM UTC