Gently you patted my cheek,
with a tenderness piquant,
not  known hitherto to us both.
Those quivering long fingers
exude motherliness,I miss ever after,
my mom has gone to her last pilgrimage,
And I crave for at moments of pain intense.

From the layers of memory darkened
by distance,I recover that feeling,
to place you instantly at a level higher,
than that of a sultry lover to whom
desire than anything higher binds together.

In to my lackluster eyes, you peer,
see the ineptly hidden drop of tear,
in the corner shivering plaintively
before rolling down to lose forever,
it's in the memory of my mother,
who rhythmically tapped my back,
led me to the cozy cloud of sleep,
when outside raged the rain storm,
I now gather, to a women I owe
when, time after time she takes
another avatar, of my mother,
momentarily, at times,when earth slips,
from under the feet
unexpectedly.
                         You did see the storm raging
inside and the child looking for solace.

You hold me close to your *****,
and I travel to a world gone by again
even when wolves howl refusing to sleep.
and let me doze off to wake up in another world!

Janette Richie
didn’t like you much  
as was shown

that time
in Mr Finn’s class
when she slapped

your face
for something you’d said
leaving you

with a spinning head
and a red cheek
but that aside

and her rather
plump frame
and maybe spectacles

you kind of like
her motherliness
the bossiness

around the class
the way she walked
the wiggly ***

but whatever it was
you’d said to her
to invite the slap

it was just a string
of words carrying
no malice or meaning

to hurt and the sensation
of her hand of flesh
touching your

young boy’s cheek
a nearness
she hadn’t thought on

or given any deeper
probe than the desire
to swipe an annoying boy

not realizing
that the gesture
and the plump hand

landing had more
than a momentary
feel or touch

you there after kind of
liked her in your
secret way

never repeating
the words said
about her plumpish

frame or swaying ***
or the spectacles
of thick glass

and maybe the other
boys laughed
and thought it some

joke of misjudgement
on your part  
but you found

a secret place for her
in your nine year old
heart.

Who would contradict the affection of a mother?
She who endeavored to bestow us the breath of existence;
Intensely compassionate in personality they are.
Secures us and therefore forms our defense.

Who else can obtain and sustain the duty of a sister?
She who happens to be our emotional support;
Sensible in intellect and gentle in action they are.
Guides us and therefore on no account lets us abort.

Who would constantly be dependable like a wife?
She who makes it crucial to fulfill our needs at any rate;
Gorgeous in qualities and remains beside us for our entire life,
Idolizes us and therefore desires us to be her soul mate.

Who else can be more valuable than a daughter?
She who sacrifices for the advantages of her family;
Garnished with essence of motherliness and heals our scar.
They are overflowing with responsibilities to an extreme degree.

Women stay as the most significant person in our life and soul,
And build an effort to facilitate us to accomplish our goal.

I could have listened
to her heart
all day long,
but instead

I just lay
with my head
in her lap,
seeing her eyes

looking down,
the dark green
or such
as it was

or seemed,
capturing me
in the two frames.
Her pulse beating

along the nerves
of my skull,
her small *******,
hidden there

somewhere,
smelling of
motherliness
or some such,

sweet to the nose,
but out of touch.
We waited
for the school

recess bell to ring
across the field,
waited uncaring,
wanting else,

but kisses
would have to do,
lips on lips stuff,
breath mixing

with breath,
tongues invading,
mouth to mouth;
hot O boy hot,

she was,
not the weather,
staring down,
eye to eye,

my head
on her thigh,
sensing not far away,
Eve's gateway.

Who would contradict the affection of a mother?
She who endeavored to bestow us the breath of existence;
Intensely compassionate in personality they are.
Secures us and therefore forms our defense.

Who else can obtain and sustain the duty of a sister?
She who happens to be our emotional support;
Sensible in intellect and gentle in action they are.
Guides us and therefore on no account lets us abort.

Who would constantly be dependable like a wife?
She who makes it crucial to fulfill our needs at any rate;
Gorgeous in qualities and remains beside us for our entire life,
Idolizes us and therefore desires us to be her soul mate.

Who else can be more valuable than a daughter?
She who sacrifices for the advantages of her family;
Garnished with essence of motherliness and heals our scar.
They are overflowing with responsibilities to an extreme degree.

Women stay as the most significant person in our life and soul,
And build an effort to facilitate us to accomplish our goal.

For Tess,

The daylight hours
pass by
I find no comforts,
no warmth
no person of worthwhile
time spent
And my mind
clicks back to you,
and the way you are
my recluse from the
perilous limits
of life.
Shackled to motherliness,
Womanliness, femininity
We remain under
expectations to be
met some day,
but the thought
unsettles me.

With you,
I have found
what it is I want
With you,
the world’s demands
mean little
to our pairing
With you,
I can see my dreams
and yours, too,
simultaneous and growing,
binding us together
as a gracious
one.

Beloved,
my love for you
is plentiful and bountiful
with care for your
every solace.
No blight shall harm you,
no trace of hate shall
instill,
As long as I am there
fighting for your will

- A

I see the fear in your eyes
That I will not fit within
Encircled arms;
And that I will spill over
Arrangements and customs-
Slide through gaps in bonds
Like a hare fleeing a farm;
That I will question
Even facts-
Woo contention,
Talk back-
  Not valiantly smile
  when snubbed,
  or purr contentedly
   when rubbed.

But walk through with you
I will
This life, if not this world-
Guard you against adversity,
Cherish you with a fierce motherliness.

I will bless you
If not with beds,
With great robust bushes of roses
So, take me,
But take me in small doses.

Ever since mine boyhood
I experienced abhorrence
toward yours truly,
an extremely introverted kid,
whose parents nor siblings
(one younger and older sister) could
not arouse him out of his emotional torpor
akin being on par with
Peter Peter pumpkin eater...
whereby he (meaning
author who wrote this poem)
kept himself isolated, quarantined, and xed out
within self made shell.

Me mum mollycoddled her only son
bathed him in maternal love
omnipotent motherliness
figuratively guillotined
(unwittingly) healthy maturation,
thus development sabotaged
courtesy figurative apron strings.

No matter his filial relationship woeful
(to thee woman who birthed him),
he registered sentimental value
regarding keepsakes bequeathed,
he still keeps cherished mementoes
redolent when she lived.

Call him a mama's happy go lucky boy
whose later ambivalent feelings
tarnished, undermined and vitiated
short lived tender loving care,
which brief vouchsafed cocooned wellbeing
regarding idyllic rapport between parents,
got staind, suppurated, sundered, sullied...
in later years by incrimination
against being gainfully unemployed.

February twenty eighth ninety sixty eight
marked a tectonic seismic shift as moving vans
transported our household freight
to (at that time) R(ural) D(elivery) 2,
Level Road Collegeville, Pennsylvania 19426,
a ramshackle (summer) mansion named Glen Elm
plus whittled down fraction
of original Hundred Acre plus wood.

Relocation with Lower Providence School District,
approximately half dozen mile distance
between former and latter home(s),
nevertheless psyche of mine
property of extremely introverted kid
severely hi-jacked.

Invisible to the naked eye
traumatization (courtesy
chastising and reproaching -
by fellow classmates
and later in life
birth parents and inlaws
dealt hefty figurative jab)
tremendously impacted yours truly
analogous to him moving bajillion miles away
compounded by his withdrawn demeanor

diagnosed when he reached middle adulthood
as schizoid personality disorder,
thus exhibiting obvious developmental delay
bullied courtesy nasty brutes,
who scapegoated and rejoiced
with hip hip hurray,
meanwhile I experienced
terrible psychological melee
escaping to safe confines of bedroom,
where I wanted to stay
for mine remaining years of life.

Retrospective review
now approaching my doddering old age
constituted more'n one cruel (cheap) trick
played on super tramping urchin,
who traipes across virtual global stage
ensnared within whorled webbed wide
spending his hard earned itty bitty wage
spinning one strand after another.