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Steve Page Mar 2017
I miss my mother most
when I'm in her frenetic company.
Such an angry fragile woman
in the shadow of the mum
she used to be.
Lost and alone, wanting a way home,
one woman against the world
with no old friends
only fresh new foes.

She can identify every shifting lie
sitting scared with no escape
from a hundred shifty eyes.
Stalkers criticise every mistake
watching her practice looping moves
cornering her as if to prove
that we're all conspiring
each trying to rob her
when the screaming truth here
is that her fleeting thoughts
have already gone where
we can never walk
not even in our tears.
Dementia is a slow killer.
ju Apr 2015
Mum had been gone a couple of months, six I think… (An ordinary day. Feeling hollow but doing OK) …when I realized I could get rid of the sofa.

I thought it was ****. She thought it was a bargain. A sofa’s not a keepsake and it was certainly no heirloom. I’d not inflict it on my kids. I got rid.

If I could’ve had her back then? I would’ve done. Even if it meant keeping the sofa.

Redecorated. Bought a new telly. Spent frivolous amounts of cash on scatter cushions. She disliked scatter cushions. I thought they were cosy.

My little boy drew on one of the cushions. On purpose. I was about to smack the back of his legs… (Mum would have. She smacked me when I was little) … but I stopped.

I never wanted to. I had known all along, somehow forgotten.

If I could’ve had her back then? I would’ve done. But she would not smack my children.

Mum had been gone a year… (Planting bulbs. Feeling conspicuous carrying a shovel ‘round the churchyard) …and I missed her .

It was as hot as the day she died. There was no breeze up on that hill. No cloud. Beautiful views stretched right out to the sea.

My little boy had grown. He helped carry water and dig holes. My baby was learning to walk. She wobbled on uneven turf between the headstones. I wanted Mum to see.

If I could’ve had her back then? I would’ve done. No question.

Mum had been gone three years… (Bulbs were doing OK. There was nothing left to plant that rabbits wouldn't nibble) …and I realized it was time to move on.

I kept the ghosts quiet while agents showed people round. The house sold. We moved away. A warm, terraced place in a small town by the sea. Dad died.

Mum has been gone eight years and I miss her.

Looking out from the Downs across cliff-top and sea, the churchyard seems nothing more than a soft-grey fleck on the green edge of town.

If I could bring her back now? Everything’s changed.

Ghosts exist. They sit in empty chairs and speak kettle-whistle. Wishing us well.
Sara Kellie Dec 2017
My Mum has five kids
and first one was Paul.
Oh look it's a boy so
we'll give him a ball.
The second was Ste,
a year younger than me.
Then there was Wayne
and oh what a pain!
Now the fourth was a girl
and so her hair we'll curl.
The fifth, it was Gary
and the last one she'll carry.
So four will wear blue,
it's just what you do.

Did nobody check if
this **** is true?
I'll prove this is wrong
when I show you my thong.
You see, I prefer lace
and blush on my face.

But seriously though,
these rules are so dumb.
How the ****
will I tell my Mum.
For twenty five years
I hid it away.
Where do I start
and what do I say?
I showed her my nails,
I'd painted them red,
My Sister piped up
"Are you off yer head"

So the best thing to do
is just show her it's you.
With a smile on my face,
she'll see that it's true.

Poetry by Kaydee. ❤
MalakF Jul 2018
Your method of parenting does not work.
You can't deprive a plant of light
and expect it to grow.
So why do you deprive me of happiness
and expect me to not drown
in sadness?
Steve Page Jan 7
Grateful, without a fight,
just a gentle sigh
and an answered prayer,
she stepped forward
and took the hand offered.

Go gentle, dear mother.
After your rage, after your fierce tears,
- go gentle, into that greater light.
My mother died today after 2 years of being pummelled by dementia. Her prayer for release was at last answered.
(With thanks to Dylan Thomas for 'Do not go gentle into that good night).
Megan Feb 2018
Maybe you are my guardian angel;
    or maybe you are simply my mother.
Your heart always so gentle,
     the purest form than any other.

As if I am your physical beating heart,
     and you are the unbreakable ribs,
I have never known a more protective guard,
    since the time I was sleeping in the crib.

I was seven when you could no longer hide,
    the first of many times I would witness,
how broken you really were inside,
    Mummy's never shown her weakness...

I was seven when I had to force you to eat,
    cover you with blankets when you fell asleep,
and wipe the tears from your cheeks.
     That's when I learned that it was okay to weep.

You continue to carry me forward
     despite the added weight on my shoulders;
You make sure I'm armoured,
     should I ever falter.

There is not enough metaphors,
    to adequately describe you.
No amount of words in a bookstore
    can describe your value.

It's been you and I for a while now,
     We have put each other back together;
So take this as my final vow,
     I promise to fix you forever.
My dearest mother, I promise to stay seven forever
Oscar Sep 2018
Dear mum,
Sleep doesn’t come easy to a kid like me,
My bones ache for the adventure I can’t yet live,
My mind is restless with constant thoughts of what could and can’t be.
Though, I’m sure your body is much overcome with slumber and rest
In peace, they say, you’re sleeping with the angels and you’re in a better place.

Mum, what is this better place?
Is the grass green, the sky blue and the sun beaming down?
Are oceans left alone, divided from the pollution our kind has cursed the seas to live with?
Do people shoot smiles instead of bullets?

Mum, since you left a lot has changed
Your little girl, once happy and hopeful, is left awake without you
Her eyes, your eyes, are no longer bright and full of love;
Now her eyes are pained and dull,
the only light you see is when she looks into the moon in search of you.
You, Mum. You. You. You.

Mum, ten years since you were laid to rest!
Ten years, three counsellors and billions of tears smeared into pillows at three am.
Your daughter, your bright young girl, feels alone in the night because her mother decayed
And let smoking corrupt her lung, she let smoke cloud her once pure soul and her mother
Had to go to a better place.
Anger. Rage. A tornado inside a little girl’s head because her mother is no longer here
She doesn’t know where this better place is, but each night
she lies awake and looks at the moon and she hopes her eyes are in the right direction
because she’s talking to her mother and her mother isn’t talking back, but at least she feels
a connection.

Dear mum, why did you leave me?
Dear mum, I’m all alone and I miss you.
Dear mum, I hope the better place has flowers because I know how much you loved them.
Dear mum, I love you
my mum died when i was little, she meant the world to me; she had lung cancer. i've had a lot of pent up anger at my mum for a while, she continued to smoke after being told not to and i've had anger at the doctors, the doctors that allowed her to do so. i was so young at the time, i love my mum and i miss her to death. truth is, i've felt pretty bummed at how my mum hasn't seen me grow up and i wrote this
Seanathon Mar 2018
Knowing a name
A face
A distant friend
Isn't enough to say
That you can
Because you cannot
Do so much
As pretend
Because you have not
Yet since
Been invited in
Mhm... It is what it is. All I can do, is be. Me.
Margaret May 2014
Mum spilled wine on the patio
*The may flies are going to be drunk tonight
drunk flies haha
Tilda Jul 2018
She was born at 3.41am,
Neon lamps,
And mouth masks,
From a place of great peace,  
To loud,
Shambolic fuss,
Open wounds,
Not immune,
Drugs forming spirals of inaudible sounds,
Drowning and gargling,
***** and cold,
Turning blue,
Being wrung out,
Mum crying out,
Wanting to feel flesh upon flesh,
Tear upon head,
Hands clasped in prayer,      
Hoping the girl,
Innocent and young,
Was lying cradled in heaven,
By 11.41.
Storm Albertyn Sep 2017
"Some days I wish I were a bird,
To fly through heaven's gate.
To visit you everyday,
Not daring to be late.

But my wings haven't began to grow,
My soul is not yet clear.
I watched you fly, into the sky,
As you watched me shed a tear.

I miss you here on Earth,
Where more people sort to know.
That God is one for picking best,
Why I'M here and YOU had to go.


Just, please say something funny,
Please say something kind.
Cause the sadness is overwhelming,
As its running through my mind.

There's not a day to go by,
Where your arms can hold me dear.
I wished for just a simple hush,
Your voice is all I hear.

You hope for me to be strong,
For all of us feel sorrow.
But hope, my dear, will bear today,
Our strength saved for tomorrow..."
I'm sad Π^Π
Tyler Atherton Nov 2018
I wish I could go back in time,
maybe then I wouldnt be crying.

I remember the last day with you,
We watched horror movies in your room.

I often wonder why it is,
You chose him over me your own son.

I understand you need him mom,
But just remember the saying.

Blood is thicker than water.

© Copyright Tyler Atherton
Liam hopson Sep 2018
I'm asking you to look at your son
I'm asking you to try a lot harder
Remeber he's only a human being
He doesn't have bullet proof armour

Try to be more kind to yourself
Try to be a bit more forgiving
Remember life has it's lessons
Remember ? how life can be so unforgiving
Steve Page Jan 9
my mother has beautiful thick hair

she has dry still lips
and her chin is raised as if reaching
for that last drop of life
from an unseen glass

she has beautiful rich hair

her colours swiftly drain to grey
and to a colder pigment
but this does nothing
to dim her motherhood

my mother has beautiful thick hair
- that hasn't changed
Moments with my mum and my sisters before we said our goodbyes.
MalakF Jul 2018
She says a lot of things; whether she means them or not, does not matter. The words have already floated in the air and there was nothing she could do about it. I mean; she could apologise but there's no way in **** would she prioritize her daughters mental stability over her own dignity.
MalakF Jul 2018
Why am I throwing it all away?
Why can I not get myself to be okay?
I let it all go up into the flames.
According to my mum I'm just playing games,
that this is all just an act.
Why can't she accept the fact that this is what I’ve become?
I don't know what to do mum but what I know is that you are one of them...
M-E Jul 2018
I’m the nameless, nobody
Born of a nameless, nonexistent mum
And a nameless, nonexistent dad
In a placeless city
New in town and I don’t mind
To re-shape my mind
By a town that is so ruthless,
So thoughtless and -
I am feeble
But certainly in a new form
A new coming storm,
A cyclone,
A cyclops,
A mongrel
Decapitating your approval and pity
I’m glass, seen through and sharp
An undecipheral writing
Meticulously weird and uncanny
I’m a boy, a girl
A maniac,
A brainiac,
A pyromaniac,
A junior granny
It’s funny
Wondering why I’m the way I am
You sculptor -
I’m leaving,
Somewhere where I will not find you
For the bullied and the forgotten generation.

Can’t we find a solution instead of demolition, intentionally or unintentionally?
Alexx Luceanu Oct 2018
Carried us through the blight,
Through the darkness and the light.
The love you gave was never lost,
Despite the crimes you paid the cost.
But now you can see through open eyes,
Through the darkness and the light.
Embraced with the love you have to give,
You gave your life so we could live.
@copyright 2018 Luke Wallace
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