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florence white or better known as mumma rose gets captured in ron’s psych ward



after losing her mate harold stone  in 2011, florence ‘mumma rose’ white started

to show the screws that she is a changed woman but she can’t resist, escaping from the secure

psychiatric unit and then started to search the web to find tasha andrews, so she can have

ella white, who is the chosen one, but this time mumma rose was determined to win, and

mumma rose decided to bring her commune to the web and she would trick everyone who

looks like they can help her into joining the computer generation, which was the name of her

new commune, and florence wanted to find tasha and ells, and she would do anything to get

help to find them.

ron was searching the web and wrote on google after having problems with the web and

‘what is wrong with the computer generation, and surprise surprise, he came across mumma rose’s

website, but it was secure, because florence didn’t want no irene roberts to stop her plan, but

ron was unsure about whether this was a lead, so he searched for any way of finding a date of when

this website was found, but he couldn’t find it, but ron forwarded the websie over to the police and

then ron was called in, with the police saying, where did you find this site and ron said, i was searching

for something i like and i then accidentally googled what is wrong with the computer generation and

this was on the top, and the police said, yeah well, this site was built in 2012 in the hope of capturing

tasha and ella once more, and it looks like she is off her medication as well.


ron left the police station and went to his usual place and there was one of mumma rose’s computer generation

buddy’s having a cup of coffee and a cake, and he said, my friend mumma rose wants me to bring ella white home to her

after that evil tasha andrews and irene roberts took her away from her, and ron said, listen, do you know where she lives

and mumma rose’s buddy said nothing, not even his name because he can’t see the evil in mumma rose but ron wanted

to trial a new medication on her because the one she was on wasn’t working and the man said, why the **** are you doctors

trying to shove good people on drugs, and she is a good person, you know who the real villain is.    it is that evil irene roberts and

tasha andrews, or she wants is to have her baby brought back to her.

ron said, she has manipulated so many people, and she is dangerous and the man said, ‘dangerous’  a wild dog can be dangerous

a tiger can be dangerous.  better still a knife reeling bandit is dangerous, but mumma rose is ever so gentle, and the computer generation

are protecting her from you quacks and cops.

ron sat there and took a photo of the guy with his phone and sent it to the police and then went to his HDU and the inmates were getting restless

and charlie chaplin said did you hear the news, they caught mumma rose, and she should be back in her psych ward soon and ron

said, when did this happen and before he can say anything else, mumma rose was walking into his HDU, and florence said, hi, my name is

florence white, and i was arrested for having a website, just imagination in this day and age, getting arrested for having a website.

ron asked mumma rose, you were a NSW lady, what brings you here, and mumma rose said, i had a sure plan to get my daughter back

from those evil so called family people irene roberts and tasha andrews, i was ready to pounce till i got a visit from the police, and ron asked her

did you have a lead, and mumma rose said yeah, there was this little 9 year old girl really got hooked on this website and i thought, ella, this is ella

i know it, she is my daughter who has been taken away by irene and tasha and i am ever so determined to reach out, and when the police came

i lost all hope of ever seeing her again, so are you happy mr ron cooper, and mumma rose added i am not taking any medication, because there is

nothing wrong with me, give tasha and irene medication and send them in here, and let me go, i have my new found friends to look after

and ron said, ‘NO’, you are staying here and while you have still got thoughts in harming that child, you will stay here as i prescribe largactil to you

with a dash of serenace and mumma rose walked away saying, i am not participating in any childish games until i get out of here, i will take your

wonder drug, to get me better so i can be with my daughter again and ron bought out the lunches and mumma rose had nothing and charlie said

eat this, it’s great and mumma rose said, if i wasn’t missing my daughter, i would punch you and patty roe went up to florence and said i am

george washington and florence said ‘SHUT UP’, and went over to the television yelling at every word said on the television, and that meant a

lot of yelling and ron tried to settle her down and brought her medication to her, and mumma rose said, my daughter is out there with evil

and ron bought out the sandwiches as well as the rest of the medications and mumma rose went up to charlie chaplin and grabbed him

and said to ron, i will **** him if you go home now, ron said, no you haven’t got any weapons so ron went home, but when ron went home,

mumma rose continued with her threat to **** someone and she killed george washington, saying go back to the USA in a coffin and the nursing

staff rang ron up and ron came straight away and went into mumma rose’s room and said, you ain’t going to see your daughter if you **** everyone

in here, ok and after yelling at florence ron went to his office and put a do not disturb sign on his door while mumma rose was pumped full of drugs/
Chuck Nov 2013
Mumma may be seasoned
Mumma may be reasoned
Mumma may be sharing
Mumma may be caring
Mumma Mae
mads Jul 2012
Every time something new and exciting happens,
I'd write a letter to mumma,
ever since I was six.
New Ma and Pa gave me a pen and paper
one day, and an envelope with a unfamiliar adress,
they said, "Write 'til your hearts content, sweetheart."
My first letter had terrible spelling,
with backwards letters,
But it had meaning,
it read, "Where are you mumma?"

I wrote a letter for each week,
and New Ma would let me put it in the box,
down by the train station,
I'd run home as fast as I could
and Pa told me that if I sit by the letterbox
too much, a patch of grass next to it would die,
so I sat at the door step waiting instead.

As I grew up,
The amount of letters I'd write would
slowly decline, I'd write more in depth
than one sentence, but only once a month.
At the age of 17, I'd write only 2 letters a year,
Christmas and what they told me was her birthday.

I'm 29 now, I still write her a letter
whenever I have time,
and somedays, when I feel lost,
or empty inside,
I'll still sit by the dusty letterbox
and wait.

*Dear Mumma,
I'm 29 today, are you proud?

How are you?
Are you fine?
Are you fascinated by stars?
I watch them tonight,
As I write to you.

Mumma, I have some sad news,
New Pa had been terribly ill for weeks,
Months maybe, but it all seemed too quick.
He passed away last week, Mum.
Pa was a beautiful man,
I wish you met him, Mum,
You would have liked him,
Every one did.

At the end of Pa's funeral,
New Ma handed me a shoe box
covered in tear drops
and her shaky hands were so pale.
But, Mum, do you know what was inside?
The box held every single one of my letters
That I had sent you,
All were stamped with "RETURN TO SENDER".

On sunny days,
I still wait for you at parks, Mum.

From your forgotten daughter,
Florence.
I love you.
Fictional.
mads Jul 2012
Prince Charming will come for you one day,
my sweetheart, but you musn't go out looking,
because, my child, because there are wolves,
big, big, bad wolves -
The horrible mean men, choose wisely-
One day, you'll see.

I pray the best for you, my pretty one,
Your golden hair will get you far-
And I promise we'll meet again under the sun
Your smile will fill my heart,
until the day I die, my dear,
without it I will not be complete.

Now, don't cry with these words.
For you should know I love you,
I shouldn't leave but I cannot bare it
I'm torn by these decisions
But I cannot give to you
what you need-
you'll understand this
when you're older too.

Enjoy the life I have given you, pretty one,
when this war is over, I'll find you,
and we'll meet again under the sun.*

*Apparently, I was barely three weeks old
when she left, and daddy was a lost cause they said-
told me he went to war, came back a nut case.
No one knows why Mumma wrote about
leaving me during the war, it was already over.
Maybe cause daddy was mental,
and she was poor,
myabe she couldn't cope.
I don't know.

I'm twelve now,
my adopted parents aren't too great,
sometimes, I think a brick wall is more capable
But I love 'em,
I love 'em more than my real folks, hey.

I like to think that on the hottest summer day's
Mumma will meet me, just like she promised
but without a photograph or nuthin'
I doubt she'd ever find me.
My hair ain't even golden anymore,
My new Ma and Pa
says it starting going dark at age three.

I don't remember much of my childhood,
my real childhood atleast,
the one I was supposed to have with Mumma.
All I have is a fading hand written note.
Fictional.
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...)
Niqolet Lewis Mar 2017
this woman
she raises soldiers
Spinning sweet lies
and throwing hard truths
its ******* brutal in here
nothing is sacred
We take what we need
when we want it
Its us against them
we are alone
You are alone
She'll throw you right in
and you do have a choice
You sink
or you swim baby
Mumma cant keep us all up
Come out swinging
She cant tell you whats on the other side
but she’ll tell you that you'd better be ready
gun cocked
fully loaded
She'll light a ******* right at your feet
keep moving
This woman
she’s covered in scars
she wants you to shoot
Shoot for the stars
But you're on your own
Mummas got guns
Pointed at men
Pointed at lovers
Pointed at fathers
pointed at mothers
Love is blind
and she’s firing
Into the night
so take your post
Soldier
You're on your own
Anubhuti priya Mar 2015
I would love to tell you,
About my unique mother,
Not SHE but HE is my true from other,
Yes! HE,
He loves me , He cares for me,
He tries for me, he cries for me,
He teachs in the amazing easiest form
That I never ever thinked of ,
I learn that things so easily ,
That sometimes I feels if I had wings to off,
He helped me out whenever
His help I sought,
He apologies even on my faults.
A unique mom with  pure soul
Yes he treats me like a baby doll
For the soul with unselfishness thoughts
I got everything he brought,
His flawless love for me  as his child,
With the the pure heart and love so mild,
His hands on my head at night
makes me sleep with love so devine,
He don’t only calls me his bachhaa in miss
I actually feels that when he use to kiss,
That’s the only sure affection
I think its bliss…
When I use to get gussa
He calls me “aleee melaa bachhaa”
I suddenly hug him so tightly
That my head takes place
In his chest so nicely.
Yes he’s my hubby too
But before that he had made his betuuu’.
He didn’t get irritated with me ,
As a mother never use to be.
His GODI gives me the whole rest,
Yes! for me his lap is best,
With the perfect sleep it fills
There is no need me to take any pills.
My real mumma even don’t care of my crust,
But my mumma don’t take his meal
Without me to have it first,
My real mummma don’t even know
When I cry,
And mumma! he feels my breathing so high,
He knows how to control my fast breath,
In a seconds he use to vanish it.
Hes arms takes me to the heaven,
But the only heaven I want ,
because
Not that one the god had given.
Please god let me live with this flaw,
I don’t wanna leave and cant even go!
Anubhuti priya Apr 2015
A TRIBUTE TO MY UNIQUE MOM
I would love to tell you,
About my unique mother,
Not SHE but HE is my true from other,
Yes! HE,
He loves me , He cares for me,
He tries for me, he cries for me,
He teachs in the amazing easiest form
That I never ever thinked of ,
I learn that things so easily ,
That sometimes I feels if I had wings to off,
He helped me out whenever
His help I sought,
He apologies even on my faults.
A unique mom with  pure soul
Yes he treats me like a baby doll
For the soul with unselfishness thoughts
I got everything he brought,
His flawless love for me  as his child,
With the the pure heart and love so mild,
His hands on my head at night
makes me sleep with love so devine,
He don’t only calls me his bachhaa in miss
I actually feels that when he use to kiss,
That’s the only sure affection
I think its bliss…
When I use to get gussa
He calls me “aleee melaa bachhaa”
I suddenly hug him so tightly
That my head takes place
In his chest so nicely.
Yes he’s my hubby too
But before that he had made his betuuu’.
He didn’t get irritated with me ,
As a mother never use to be.
His GODI gives me the whole rest,
Yes! for me his lap is best,
With the perfect sleep it fills
There is no need me to take any pills.
My real mumma even don’t care of my crust,
But my mumma don’t take his meal
Without me to have it first,
My real mummma don’t even know
When I cry,
And mumma! he feels my breathing so high,
He knows how to control my fast breath,
In a seconds he use to vanish it.
Hes arms takes me to the heaven,
But the only heaven I want ,
because
Not that one the god had given.
Please god let me live with this flaw,
I don’t wanna leave and cant even go!
Aakriti Feb 2018
I see you, but I cannot touch you
I hear you, but this isn't your actual voice
I climb on the table and kiss the screen.
I say,'' Mumma I Love You''.
She tries not to cry, she says, '' I love you more bachcha''.
I wanna hold her when she says this, I'm helpless.
I play with her when together,
But its hard to play games from the mobile screen on the way.
I can see may family through this screen daily.
I can talk to them over phone.
She asks me when will you be home with me.
I say soon mumma. She has no idea how I'm dying to see them.
I don't like seeing you through this laptop screen and talking to you over phone.
She says, “I gotta go!’’
I say no mommy don't leave me
I say mommy don't leave me again,
We both start to cry.
I tell my family its really hard, it really is.
I cry with them through this screen.
I tell them and my mommy to be strong, I will be home soon, its just about months.
I love you, now I gotta go.
I am learning new things and I'm not gonna mess with anything.
I blow kisses bye to them because I cannot hug and kiss them through this screen.
Being politically correct , just to be in the rat race,
Helping a deserving candidate lose out on countless opportunities
Oh !! what a disgrace .


Political debates in a news chat room

Speakers galore , reasoning insane ...
Pointing fingers like
Mumma  'yeh '  Mumma ' woh '

      Mama  Makosa....
I wanna have a 'Samosa'
And the blah blah blah ....

The news reader in fits
Calls out,  time out .. in the chat room .


Politics in life

Fire in the mountain run run run
Don't stop , run ...
Take a right , a left .... no U Turn .
Watch out ... don't trip... Run.

MJ , playing out loud ....
"All I wanna say that they don't really care about us ...."


Lost the lyrics.........??

MJ again ....
"Heal the world make a better place for you and for me and the entire Human Race..."


Time to turn around
Hit the ground
Can't let the fire wipe out the beautiful village people and the flora fauna.
Face it finish it !!

Politics not my favourite cup of tea
Might as well savour some green tea .
For the prompt 'Undervalued Topics'
Just for fun :)
No offence to any political parties or anyone in person .

( In Hindi : yeh - this ,  woh - that, Samosa - deep fried ,spicy Indian snack)
Makosa and Samosa used for rhyme only !

Have been posting a little too much by my standards, will cool down once through with these daily prompts :)))
Geetanjali dogra May 2020
Maa teri meri yadein boht achi thi
Tu jo bhi kehti thi boht sachi thi,

Yaad hai mujhe aaj bhi wo pal maa
Bimaar mai hoti thi taklif tujhe hua karti thi,

Tu kabhi na bhuli mere khane ka samey maa...
Qki maa tu hi toh khane ki plate mere aggey piche ghumaya karti thi,

Wo teri aloo, pyaz wali khaniya maa
Jisko sunn k sach mai maan liya karti thi,

Kya khub sundarta thi tere bhole se chehre pay maa...
Jo meri saheliya bhi gunn tera hi gaya karti thi,
Maa ...qki teri meri yadein boht achi thi
Tu jo bhi kehti thi boht sachi thi,

Jab pehli baar un chote se hathon se chai bnayi thi maine
Yaad hai , tu sab rishtedaro mai yahi gaya karti thi,

Har baat k liye zidd bht ki Maine tujhse
Par aakhir mai meri khushi k liye haa tu hi bharrti thi,

Bht ladai ki sabne mere liye tujhse maa
Lekin har pal sath khadi tu hi mila karti thi,

Maa teri meri yadein boht achi thi
Tu jo bhi kehti thi boht sachi thi,

Bht si horror movies bhi dekhi tere sath maa aur tu kahani ka pehlu phele hi bta diya karti thi,

Bht hase bhi sath mai roye bhi sath mai
Aaj jab dekhti hu toh ansu apne aap nikal k beh jate hai,
Bachpana samjho ya nadaniya samjho
Par tere hi aggey hua karti thi,

Tu Maa thi ya meri dost thi
Qki tu bhi toh bacho jaise harketin kiya karti thi,

Aaj bhi wahi tera chehra dikhta hai mujhe maa , teri wahi awaaz sunayi deti hai,
Lekin bevas tu hai ya mai hu aisa mnn mera kehta hai maa,

Qki maa teri meri yadein bht achi thi
Sach mai Tu jo bhi kehti thi bht sachi thi.

Wapas se wahi samhe jeena chahti hu tere sath maa..
Par sochti hu tu yaha ayegi ya mai waha au maa,

Sach Drr lagta hai duniya se maa ab
Jee paungi ya tut jaungi mai ab,

Kitni bholi thi maa tu humesha se
Qki jhuti ya sachi sab maan liya karti thi,

Yaad hai mujhe aaj bhi jab scooty meri band hoti thi
Toh kick tu hi mara karti thi,

Wah kya paranthe aur rajma banati thi maa tu
Jo saheliya hi sabse phele khaya karti thi,

Itni sachi aur achi maa thi tu
Warna mujh jaise nalayak bache ko tu hi sambhala karti thi,

Maa dubara se wo maa sabd tere aggey tujhe bolna chahti hu fir se
Kya tu dubara janam legi milne k liye mujhse,

Ek baar toh ake gale lga le maa mujhko
Fir se wahi pyara bacha bnke dikhaungi tujhko,

Yaad hai maa mumma's lil girl ka tattoo maine bnwaya tha tere liye
Lekin jab ghar pauchi toh dekhte hi dil baith gya tha mere liye
Maa tu sda zinda rahegi dil mai mere
Qki Sach keh rahi hu mera wajood hi hai tere liye,

Maa bharosa kar mera
bharosa nahi todungi tera
Ab aa hi jana maa bacha hu tera.
Emm Feb 2018
When Mumma's gone,
no one would try to understand you sadly
voluntarily,
no one would bother with how you'd feel,
so take good care of yourself
'cause else no one will ever will...
they'll fit you into their own motive,
so you navigate quickly,
and play them in instead,
don't fall for it...
doesn't mean you're wrong,
doesn't mean you're always right
I won't be there to tell you
but I'll watch you silently no worries,
'cause you're forever partly mine...
...
--no one would go comfort you,
when you feel wronged,
when the world doesn't go your way,
no one would nudge it to spin for you...
no one to rely on,
no one to go to,
no one to shelter you,
no one ready to defend,
...
but my wisdom is with you,
a ready made weapon any day...
for you to move on,
for you to go on...
and pass it on...
'cause you know I do
Love you
and I keep my words true
TaliaB Jul 2016
Hurting by the ocean waves
  sand with blood, we all
learn to behave, when our
  curtains catch no light,
and do not prevent the
  squashing night
to give my child to another
  and to abort a fetus, who
is or was his brother,
  depending whom you ask,
of couse I wouldn't know,
  so I numb with clothes,
money, and blow.
Georgina Ann Jul 2011
When I was little, my Mumma taught me
how to make perfume from the rose petals
in my Nan's English garden.

The grass out there was always soggy
but I never wore shoes, never wore anything.
      Flowers are best picked in the ****.

She gave me a wicker basket and said,
Watch out for the thorns and the slugs.

She picked her petals slow;
only took the nice ones.

But I didn't care about wilted edges
or gnawed worm holes.
I grabbed them all in rough fist-fulls.

Mumma tossed petals above my head
and let them flit down around me,
so I could parade threw them and pretend
I was the Queen of everything.

When our baskets were full she filled a deep ceramic bowl
with hot, cloudy water from the temperamental sink.

We pushed the petals in and broke the torrid surface.

Now, She said
It's time to let them steep. 

So she gave me Hasbiro milk bottles and chocolate buttons
while I helped her hang the linens outside
on that revolving white rack,
and we waited for our Eau du flor to brew.
Himanshu Nov 2018
19 Nov 2016 ... When I Am With You


Miss, where are you ?
She replied I am always with you

But i doubt to know about her
She always true for being with one

Looking for a love when we sit together
She ever make my time with altogether

No one knows what she really like
But she love to play all fight

When i see a pain in side
She always here for make me alive


I don't care about mistakes
She always blames to correct your face

I always lie in front of her
But she never mind and listen all my words

True feelings is always between us
A good time to know about fun

Walking alone I miss her a lot
But she always remind me for reason no

I hate sometimes to show my pain
But she always know what i really gain

For no alarms in morning to wake me up
She always early to put in front of me

A coffee cup avoid to see in my real life
She force me to pray for good time

Lots of laugh when we met again
But there is no time for show our pain

When i see mirror for a while
I remind her for every good night

Talk to each other there is make me happy
For a time i feel to really creepy

A lot of time i waste for no reason
But when she is with me i realize a good time forever

For no reason i love her too long
She is not my girlfriend she is my Mom ...
Micah Alex May 2014
Do you hear those screams, piercing the night? It’s a little annoying sometimes, just when I’m trying to sleep, a shriek tears that delicate fabric of silence, and jolts me awake, once again. I’m not scared of those screams, but there’s something familiar about them, something, about that voice, that dread that cripples my heart-That voice. It belongs to me.                        Sweat rolls down my tiny face, like on a warm summer night, except now every part of me shivers from the cold, on the inside and the outside.

And slowly I start to remember why; why I scream.

The reminder, the memory- It comes. Silently, like a thief tiptoeing into my room. I bear witness unable to move, Still as a rock, I’m smothered by the weight of it, unable to breathe.“Go away”, I try to scream under the weight of a disobedient voice. But it’s no use, the naustalgia is unstoppable.           The coming nightmare whispers silently into my terrified ears, “Shush, enjoy that pain, they say everyone likes it.”And it comes, the pain so painful that death is sweeter. I can’t embrace it, I never will.

 And I’m taken to the past. To the day it all went downhill.

“So many colours!”, I said, as I gaped at the garishly painted wall that I tried to grasp with my gnarly little digits. I was never bored here at the kindergarten, unlike some other muskrats who only bestowed their presence to show off their capabilities to produce saltwater from their eyes and dolphin mating calls from their blackhole-like mouths. Some talent.

It was a sunny summer day and the only thing I didn’t like about it was that every adult complained about the heat -all the time- my mum, my dad and my teachers, everyone. I remember thinking that all these grown-ups were absurd. Sure it was a little hot, but winter was always coming, so it was only fair. Change was constant, but it was such a bright day, why complain at all? I felt exceptionally happy, the whole day was a treat to my imagination laden senses.

Pity, it was such a good day to eat chocolates too.

Another thing I remember about that day was that pesky little boy, who didn't strike me as obnoxious back then, but now I’m retrospect he was really quite a block in the chimney stack. He’d entered class yesterday with the Doraemon pencil that recited generic phrases from the popular kids show, stuffed proudly in his chest pocket. And as he walked to his seat, the sound of his footsteps were punctuated by tiny “oooh’s” and “aaah’s”, as adoring little preschoolers watched the invaluable speaking object reverently. Unable to deal with the sudden adoration prudently, he got ahead of himself as his world fed that ancient balloon- The male ego. He started teaching "art" forms such as scribbling and scratching. And because I was the one sitting next to him, he felt the need to bestow upon me his vast knowledge of the subject. I didn’t really mind this condescension only because the implement he used to teach me was so exquisite. I sat there listening to him till I got bored of him talking about his Daddy and his money.

Then that little bird had started to sing so beautifully, humming at the trees as it sat on our windowsill. Every shrill note out of its little beak sent the "historic" words of that boy deeper and deeper into the dark recesses of my tiny mind. The effect of that simple melody was immediate. I stood up and started to sway slowly to the windowsill. (Even though the things I remember about this make no sense to me now, they are quite an accurate representation of my state of mind at that point.) I loved the little sound that the little birdie made, the memory of it still makes me want to jump and dance. I cooed back to her, “Coo coo(I’m happy too I tried to chirp to her)”. She looked at me quite a while, cocked her head a little to the side and cooed once more before flying off.

She replied!

She understood what I told her and she replied in kind. My wonder making mind went into a mad frenzy. So all the cartoons were true, you could really speak to animals. How I wished, I had a poké-ball! I marched to the teacher in small short joyous steps as she wrote on blackboard and clutched on to the end of her Churidar because my little hands could only go so far.          “Teacher, Teacher”, I squealed in ecstasy, “That birdie spoke to me”          “I’m sure she did, sweetie, now go back to your seat.”, she replied.

Deflated but happy nonetheless, I skipped back to my chair merrily, thinking of little birdies and a magical Pokémon. I remember, I loved how that know-it-all pencilbigmouth kept asking me to tell him what the birdie told me. Even if I hadn’t loved to see him beg,(which I did) it was my little secret, how could I tell him? How would he even start to understand? (Yeah I was being quite the drama queen in my head back then, blame the TV.)

 

 

Here I break apart from my rapture into the past and find that in my subconscious, the memory gets blurry somehow, like the radio running between stations on daddy’s phone, I get snippets of thoughts and feelings as the memory fractures into a thousand pieces.

“Mumma must understand what the birdie said.”
"Pokémon exist."
“Oh! Chocolates! Yay.”
“There’s more, if you want some.”, a gruff voice resounds in my heart.
"More yay."
“Why is he removing his clothes?”
Then suddenly,  I remember the pain- searing hot and burning through me-as clearly as sunlight through trees. Crying and screaming, I tried to escape, but to no avail. There was a big man in front of me now. His lust-crazy eyes, ******* out every piece of my existence. Somehow he was inside me and it hurt, it hurt.

How was he inside me?

Why did it pain so much?

Didn’t he hear my cry?

Stop it.

I couldn’t move, I could do nothing but scream.                                                  He touched me in my softest parts, painfully, pinching me and tearing my skin apart. It was a sea of agony and I was drowning. As I struggled to breathe, the blackness finally took me under. That unconsciousness had saved me and cradled me, lulling me to sleep in its darkness.

It felt like death but crueler, because it let me live.

Looking back I realize, the sun wasn’t bright because it was happy, it was warning me. The day wasn’t bright, it was becoming hotter in foreboding. The bird didn’t tell me it was happy, it told me to fly away, far away.

 

Why are you still making me cry? After all these years, even when you’re asleep behind iron bars. Why are you still here, holding me down in your death clasp.?

Stop it. It hurts.                                                           ­                                                 It hurts.                                                           ­                                                                 ­  I can’t breathe, I’m choking,                                                         ­                          I’m dying.

I’m dyi…..

 

Calm down, I yell at my panicked heart. Slowly inhaling and exhaling, trying to fall back into my dysfunctional sleep, I lay back into my sweat soaked bed and close my eyes. And as the blackness of sleep slowly washes me down under its waves once again, I hear it again, somewhere over the dark horizon.

Stop it! I like this darkness, stop screaming. I sit up once again. I tell myself I’m not afraid of these screams anymore. I ignore the shrieks and the unease growing in me and close my eyes once more. Then I realize that the cries of terror that resound in my ears like a half-forgotten memory, they belong to me.

And once again I start to remember why, why I scream,

And once again the memory comes.
This is based on a recent **** that shocked India as a nation.
Lexi Nov 2017
I'm sorry you had to spend time with me.
That you spent money on me
And effort with me. 
I'm sorry I fight with you
And lose my temper at you.
I'm sorry I ruied our relationship
And all we had.
Because now I live without you.
I live without the support of your hand
That hand I never truly had
The things I would do to have just one more moment of your love.
For you to look at me once more.
Mumma I am sorry.
I don't know how to say it anymore.
I♡U
"pappa" i call  so...as you are to me
Though you are unaware of me
As I"m are inexistent in the universe
Longing  to be born as your unique verse ..

"Pappa", the only name I know
For my mumma carries only you
Along with me in her thoughts and dreams!!
I know you are our only world
And final word
with nothing beyond...

Thanks for the little care
You shower upon my mumma
With which she nourishes me.
Though she and me deserve more...
Yet are gratified, contented
Are we!!

Me and mumma love you pappa
And we care for your being good
Love to be born so soon
To grow up with your love and care...
Love you pappa..
Akarshi Mehrotra Nov 2012
All that I am or hope to be I owe to my ANGEL mother…
Born as a child in this world..
But brought up by a divine fairy as if in paradise..
I’LL REMEMBER..

Greeted, loved, blessed, praised n cherished all in one sway..
The blessful hands on my forehead..
I’LL REMEMBER..

Scoffed, scolded, sometimes thrashed but then instantly forgiven..
That  love..
I’LL REMEMBER..

The moderating essence of love and care..
Fulfilling all our yearns n neglecting her’s but still always a pretty smile..
I’LL REMEMBER..

Beginning with alphabets, stories, proses and now counseling afflictions of life..
All that persuades..
I’LL REMEMBER..

Your sacrifices, your devotion, your calmness, your essence..
Your love..
I’LL REMEMBER..

I wish every mother was like mines..
So my luck..
I’LL REMEMBER..

In this world everyone can betray but mother being the only exception..
I’LL REMEMBER..

Your divine countenance, your peerless smile, your adoring eyes..
Lovely u..
I’LL REMEMBER..

Love u mumma..
Thanks for giving life to me first and then becoming MINES…
tufa alvi May 2014
Livin' easy
Lovin' free
Season ticket on a one way ride
Askin' nothin'
Leave me be
Takin' everythin' in my stride
Don't need reason
Don't need rhyme
Ain't nothin' that I'd rather do
Goin' down
Party time
My friends are gonna be there too
I'm on the highway to hell
On the highway to hell
Highway to hell
I'm on the highway to hell

No stop signs
Speed limit
Nobody's gonna slow me down
Like a wheel
Gonna spin it
Nobody's gonna mess me around
Hey satan
Payin' my dues
Playin' in a rockin' band
Hey mumma
Look at me
I'm on the way to the promised land
I'm on the highway to hell
Highway to hell
I'm on the highway to hell
Highway to hell
Don't stop me
Aysha Ahmed Jul 2014
Mum
Mummy
Mumma
What would you have called me?

Could I have seen
Your innocent face,
Or felt the warmth
Of your embrace.

Would you have cuddled me
When you cried?
Or smiled and looked at me
With your bright eyes?

Was loosing you
Down to fate?
Down to destiny?

Or was it me?
Did my actions affect you?
Did my emotions
Destroy you?

Did your heart beat?
Even once?
Boom, boom, boom
Or did I **** you before it could?

Am I a murderer
Or a mother?
Will you ever forgive me?

I have wronged you,
I didn't give you a chance
To live the life you wanted,
With me and your dad.

We would love you
And cherish you,
You'd be the apple of our eyes.

But when I knew
You were no more,
A huge part of me died.

I didn't know you existed,
What kind of mother am i?
I should have known from before,
That I'd be blessed with a child.

So tell me
My baby,
What would you call me?
Mum, mummy, mumma.
But you're no longer
There to decide.
Anubhuti priya Apr 2015
ME! YES! MYSELF….
He told me to write for me,
He knows it’s impossible for me,
Me a dam maverick girl always fought,
Just for my mammas sought.
I didn’t played with dolls,
I always used to kept in bawls,
Thinking of always to sleep on mamma’s bed,
She threw me out to cover her ends,
Was even able to understand;
That she actually hates me,
I always wondered to know,
How she cry for me,
But as a wondered, cant be a truth,
My dreams also don’t have any hook.
This is what  with my mentality grows up,
In seeking of mamma’s hug,
Today, I know she’s full of grievances,
I know she’ll not give me chances,
My cares didn’t depended on her,
Nor in childhood, or today either.
My head is now full of having tension,
But still I am away with my mamma’s attention.
I found myself very alone when she left me,
In that depression.
I stopped having my careful things,
I stopped thinking about my being.
I never saw myself in been,
That time I was 9,
Today nineteen.
Yes I lost myself in between,
Wanted to be a daughter not queen.
Yes I lost my everything with her,
Left with me is only tears.
Yes I cant care of myself,
With these drastic scenes I cant help.
Today found myself abused,
Coz she left me be, for here to confuse.
But in little time, I found some another,
Not mumma but yes my mother.
Care too much to make me stronger,
I cant care myself , I told him further,
I think I bother him always,
Coz, he teach me and I doesn’t stays.
Foolish me!
Where I and where’s he,
Look for me, where I stands,
Took steps for where I splash,
Know me well to understand my breath,
Pamper me his underneath .
I have my soul in him,
There’s nothing else that I can trim.
He don’t let my eyes to cry,
He cares like a newborn  whenever I shy.
I hate myself to being.
Coz’ I cant do the same for him
I frighten of loosing my mumma again,
Thn  there will no one to whom I can claim.
So I’ll end up with finishing myself!
Yes ! and from than
I’ll never ask god,
For my mamma again.
TaliaB Jul 2016
She is a spindle on my bed
Reminding me of my mumma
  Sweating on my sheets,
naked, lewd, romanticizing me
  Not knowing I hide her
from my friends and family
  Not knowing I drink, pop
uppers, downers, as I prop
  Up against the headboard
and as I watch her cradle
  Her head between my
Half Caucasian, Half ******
  Thighs, riddled with scars
Seven years old, one year older
  Than the baby I gave up.

I wonder how I taste, how
  I look, Do I taste like shame,
Do I taste like love forgotten
  Do I look like the ******
The city girls gossip that I am
  Can you see the removal,
The crib I threw my child from
  The trauma that caused me to
Abandon him, to abandon me,
  What will cause me
To abandon you

  Sarah, my love, where have I gone
Why have I left you, bloodless,
  Soulless in the pitch black dreary
Gravelled upon the smoothness
  Of my deceitful, coarse projection

Sarah, I am sorry that my shame
  Coerced me to run from your
Eternal rays downward on my
  Dimpled, crooked smile, on my
Dimpled brown ***, attached to
  My snakey spine, what holds
My ribs, what protects my lungs
  Which do nothing but breathe
You.
Dr Kinjal Doshi Mar 2015
Every year on your birthday,
I make a sincere attempt..
To put into words what I feel..
To show you my content!
This year is definitely not different..
My love for you keeps growing...
Feelings overflow n emotions are in abundance...
But honestly, words are real scarce!
Yet, here I am my darling mommy....
Armed with a paper and a pen..
Trying to express how dear you are...
And that you are my everything!
My best friend, my secret keeper...
My counsellor..my teacher...
No words can express enough...
That you are my all rounder!
When days are blue and you are low,
Remember you are me and I am you...
Your strength is me...
And mine is definitely you!!
My beautiful mumma...
Flash that million dollar smile...
Because its your birthday...
And while writing this...I am all smiles..
betterdays May 2014
little man,
you have had such
a big day.
all those questions
you ask,
all that playing you do
you did.

a lot of growing
and showing,
nana how big your getting.

kindy today,
cheese ****** for lunch
and baby cannonballs
(black grapes).

after that,
we visited friends,
walked to the rockpools

snacked on apples
and milk
lots of hugging and laughing tickling and giggling.
to smile so hard,
must take lots of effort.
no!

then to eating,
that big, yummy dinner
of macaroni and cheese,
must of worn you out.
even after that,
baby, bannana split
you're not tired?
oh!  it is just your eyes
that are getting sleepy

now to leapad learning and choosing story books lots of things,
ticked off your list

now it's bathtime,
my friend,
splashing and bubbles,
shampoo and rinse.
then some time with humf  and hoot.

cuddles with dadda,
kiss for nana,
story and song,
then, my big boy,
bed is where you belong.
all night long.
mwah from mumma.
australian translation:
****** =sandwich
humf = furry little monster tv show, gentle love each other messages
hoot = tv puppet presenter,
aqua blue and purple owl. takes kids through go to bed routines... helpful to calm little fellas down
i think thats about it.
Lenses, eyeliner, eyebrow liner, lipgloss, lipstick, mascara, blusher, contour, highlights, heels, dressing senses, conduction;
It will all be impossible without you.

Happy 44th Birthday ma!
I truly love you♥️
Love, Vina
Victoria Davis Oct 2013
If you could hear me right now
Would you call again?
Even with knowing I would ignore your attempt
I was proud whenever we went out
And you showed off your tattoo
My name written along your chest
And I was proud
When you’d call me down
To the basement to show me
Your pile of Polaroid’s
And I saw who you were at 16
With golden gloves
For hands
And I was so proud that you were
My dad
But I must have forgotten what it was like before
Mom died
My 5 year old eyes
Watched you
Turn our house into a boxing ring
And you’d use your hands to show your anger
On a woman who loved you more than the world
I don’t blame the cancer
I blame you
She fought for her life
And you were giving her
A reason to not want to
Anymore
I must have forgotten this
After she left
I remember being on the front lawn
With my hands over my heart
Vowing to never leave that spot
Until she came home
But you are the one who dragged me inside
And told me my
Mumma was in the sky
And from that day on
You were my new best friend
I just wanted to be a kid
But you’d make me sit on your bed
And watch the home video
Where you married your best friend
And my t shirt soaked in a grown
Man’s tears
I watched that video so many times
It’s like I was there
I don’t know if you realize that
Not only did you lose your wife
But I lost my mom
I must have forgotten that because
I held you tight and said
“duddah don’t cry”
But there was a time
I’d stand in front of the knife drawer
When you two would fight
Just in case you would want
To experiment with new weapons
I know you wouldn’t
If I was there
To stop you
5 years old
And I knew what humans could hold
Inside them
And I must have forgotten that
Through the 3 years I was stuck alone with you
Until
I was sleeping soundly
And my 8 year old brain
Forgot that we had fire place tools
That were considered dangerous
And I walked out at 2 am
And saw you hurting
Someone who was supposed to be your friend
And I never stepped foot in that house again after that night

I was taken away

I found out later
That you had ran off
And they found piles of needles
Where you used to sleep
And I couldn’t accept
The fact that you would choose a
Drug over me
I couldn’t accept it
I couldn’t
I loved you
So much
I really believed it wasn’t true

Growing up
I no longer had you
At one point
You were doing better
But your veins had gotten lonely
And you fell back to your ways
And that was the day
I vowed
With my hands over my heart
I would never
Speak to you again

Would you approve of the one I love?
I blame you
Not for loving him
But for why I continue to
He chooses the evils in the world over me
Just like you
And he can’t see how much I love him
Just like you
And he will never love me more than the demons
He mistakes for happiness that creep on his skin
Just like you

But I can’t ignore his calls
And I want my shirt soaked in his sorrow
And I want to change him
Because I couldn’t change you
You’d think id learn
That you can’t make a human
Become a different person
Unless they want to be
And
Even though you can’t give it up
Just know I still love you
And as much and I hate to say it
I miss you
Because there was a time between all the ****** up things you’d do
Where we were inseparable
I’ve heard you don’t even talk about her anymore
I think you always felt she was with me
And if you don’t have me
Then you don’t have her
I blame you
And I am so sorry.
preeti Dec 2014
My meditation is you ..
This warm feeling which i feel wen u r near me is worship for me .. My peace lies within ur company, this deep silence with smile on our faces wen we r lying on bed together , my happiness is around you .. the way we giggle over everything and nothing ..the way we laugh together for hours & hours non stop for such silly and non funny things  makes me most happy . My childhood lies in you... The way i become child in front of you and we  do most stupid things together and yet find them the most creative things and praise each other ..my innocence lies in you .. The way i get to do such simple things and yet feel so empowered and content ... My pamperness lies in you ..the way i get angry and you come to me plant kisses on my lips , cheeks,forehead cup my cheeks with your two tiny hands i feel the most pampered person on this earth . My anger lies in you ..the way u and i get angry from each other and without any ego we both hug each other like lost lovers for make up . My passion lies in you ..the way you inspire me , motivate me each day to excel in whatever i am doing . My strength lies in you the way you look into my eyes wen i get weak and assure me that i cant loose the hope and charge me with all divine energy .. I find my world in ur embrace .. This purity of relationship i feel wen i and you do things for each other without any expectations and unconditional makes me feel the power of spirituality ..you have taught me to smile in pain and be calm then ..this power within i realized wen i held you for the first time and still i feel it ..i feel some kind of firm supernatural power flowing in my veins , blood.. wenever u fall sick or fall down i get strongness in me to smile keeping all pain inside me..   My world lies in you .. I love you my darling daughter "yuvakshi" you are my great teacher and love of life ..and i feel so proud to admit that for the first time in my life " i am in love and i am rising in this love with each day passing and each moment growing , thanks for making me such a strong person and yes a "COMPLETE WOMAN" love mumma.
Luce Apr 2014
these are the moments I will immortalise

I will stuff them and give them glass eyes
I will pickle them in jars
I will frame and polish them frequently
and I will make them into a gold chain to be passed down through the generations.

I will share, imprint and bore these memories into my children

they will be both humoured and obsessed with the descriptions
of when their mother embarked on many adventures

when they are young, they will imagine me as a fearless pirate.
as they grow, they will idolise the carefree teenager I am, no - I was.

they will know the times I ventured with friends,
who will hopefully be familiar to my children.
the friends who many years from now will be referred to as 'uncle' and 'aunty'.

they will know about all the road trips
and my habitual late night naps in the back seat
they will know the beat of the drums to the songs we listened to and sung at the top of our lungs
and I will play them to live those moments again -
who says time travel doesn't exist

I hope they will be able to smell the memory, mix of excitement and sweat hanging in the air of the car,
the breath of our youth steamed on the window

my children will know that I fell in love far too young
and, as their mother, these are the world's cruelties I will attempt to educate and shield them from.

because one day, my freckled princess will grow into the queen of her own castle
she'll lift the chin of her own baby and say,

'my mumma said to me, you've got to kiss a few frogs before finding your prince. Don't ever give up hope, because magic exists but it isn't always pretty and he's looking for you like you're looking for him.'

Keep you head down, baby. Keep running, 'cause I promise you're almost there.

but I will not undermine my children
and tell them they are too young to love,
for if they were too young to fall in love, how could they fall unconditionally in love with me?

(as I already am with them, aged eighteen)

I will tell them the stories of how I met their father,
I am unsure as to whether or not I know these stories yet.

We will tell them about the first time our hands interlinked and we instantly felt at home with each-other.
  
           when you know, you know.

We will tell them about the sweetness and innocence that hung on our lips for that very first kiss,
and we will continue to kiss
as if it's that same first kiss
every time
every day

they can not deny true love if they witness it every day of their lives

it will be a living reminder
of the love our children were made from and bought into
and a living reminder
that I loved you,
that I love you
before I knew you...
because you're mine

kisses will be our family heirloom
memories are the best thing I can pass down to you

so my story is still being written
but it is not a forced template for my children's lives

I will hand them pencils, if they wish to draw over their pages
I will hand them fountain pens, if they wish to eloquently craft their words
I will hand them every colour crayon ever made, and let their creativity run  over the pages
as free as their young, bare knees will be on the playground

I wish one day, they will read these words,
and know the memories of my teenage years that have been
and memories of my twenties, thirties, forties and fifties that have yet to be made

I wish they will read these words and they will know that I loved them before they even existed

I will have immortalised these feelings through my words.

So immortalise me, my loves, through your memories.
"The day will come
When my body no longer exists
But in the lines of this poem
I will never let you be alone"
Anubhuti priya Oct 2014
There is a corner in my room
where I sit alone.
Its upstairs,
and I don't know how ?
but my mind works there.
The scene out of my window
internment my eyes,
for that
I disregarded my mumma's voice.
This is the space
I love to spend my time,
but..
for her,
I'm wasting hours of mine.
Sometimes
this corner controls
my displeasure nature and annoyances,
my anger and headache.
that's y this is my place
where I sit in peace
and you can see the smile
on
my face..
betterdays Sep 2014
there is something
so very wrong
with this marble
when a four year old
gets into
the back seat of a car
and asks

mumma,
who is ISIS?
and why do they want to
stab us?
how can we prptect them
from this.....when they learn of it at preschool....
he over heard some boys talking, they heard it from their parents.....
that is how insidious fear is...
lots of work to do tonight...
hmmm!!!
betterdays Apr 2014
running on empty
all outta gas.
all outta,all outta, all outta, gas.

my daddy was a gasman,
well... he drove a petrol tanker
big shiny thing.

that's before he went away,
then my mumma, she done
worked her fingers red raw.
to keep food on the table,
and the roof overhead.

she got us up before dawn,
ready for school and then
we went with and sat,
waitimg on hard hospital chairs,
til the bus  done come and
picked us up, for school.

i was always tired, fore, i got to
school....so by the three thirty bell,
my life was a living hell.

then, we started the long traipse home.
4.5km in a straight line then,
turn left,trudge another 550 metres
and the white picket fence,
gives a welcome home grin.

everyday, i was running on empty.

all outta, all outta, all outta gas

my daddy was a gas man,
til he went away.

my daddy was a... mongerel *******
when he went away.
freeflow before bed
Dia Sep 2015
It's always been this way, am I able to change?
I was 5 years old and I was in the bath tub of my old house, my mom made the bubble bath and stayed there with me, I took baths because I was too scared to have a shower because my mom could leave the bathroom and I wouldn't be able to hear, I was 5 years old and already feeling overwhelming amounts of anxiety and fear of abandonment,  I was 5 years old and I looked up to my mom and said "mumma I don't think I was ment to be a person" that was 12 years ago and to this day I think **I just wasn't meant to be a person
Prahaas Oldman Sep 2016
My mind-
is a slum of dreams,
around half of my thoughts,
flies linger-
while the other half,
are lost in childhood screams.
My heart,
with each beat,
craves another start,
which it has, of course-
but this one too,
is the exact replica of the previous-
duh!
My stomach,
is always in need,
always hungry, always thirsty,
in my being, is its being,
in its being, is mine-
and yet I cannot fulfill its needs,
it is greedy, my mumma told me,
like us-
it has no conscience.
My ***,
it doesn’t matter if its long and whole,
or is merely a deep insatiable hole,
it shall never be complete,
in entirety,
without the aid of someone,
craving for every *** who comes my way,
longing to fill it up,
and then emptiness shall fill it,
yet again-
for my life is-
very much empty-
like a void,
like the lives of many-
like my ***-
unfulfilled and moist.
From The Collection Of Feminist Poetry 'Vanilla'.
heather Jul 2016
Hey baby girl, I love you. I love you but stop. Stop acting like you've seen the world when everything you've experienced has been through rose tinted glasses. You know they're gonna smash one day. They're gonna smash and you're gonna be hit with reality but hey, hey pretty baby, I'll still love you. Hey sweets, hey sugar, hey spice. I know your glasses broke but you don't need to smash those bottles anymore. I'll still love you when the lights go out. I love your lips in Koko K and your high necks and your slender frame. Hey pretty baby, remember that dress your Mumma once described as a 'second skin'? Hey, remember the night we drove and drove and drove and stopped at sunrise? Remember the sound of the ocean inside your head? Remember the birds and the trees and the sand and the children screaming and the happy times? Remember asking for my number? Remember saying goodbye? Remember leaning in for the first kiss? Remember the daisies? Remember the shooting stars and the golden mornings? Remember? Hey pretty baby, it's okay if you don't want to remember anymore. I'm still sorry your glasses broke.
Benji James Aug 2017
I’m still chasing girls 

Out of my league

Mumma always said 
chase your dreams

Even with all the impossibilities 

So I'm chasing girls every day

Maybe that's the reason

They don't want to be with me

In fact, it's she who said that to me

How can I choose

With all these fish in the sea

So many girls they're all so pretty

I want them all 

Not just one

Maybe I'm a little greedy

Still, think I'm cheesy?

Nah I'm freakin' seedy

But don't be fooled

It takes a lot to please me

So many cuties in this club

And I want every single one

Because I just can't get enough

Of all this lust

Let's make love, in this club 

Where's Ushers song come on

Girl, I want you, no you, no you

**** how am I supposed to choose

I'm so confused

On what to do

Oh well, guess I better make them 

Form a Que.

I want them all 

Not just one

Maybe I'm a little greedy

Still, think I'm cheesy?

Nah I'm freakin' seedy

But don't be fooled
It takes a lot to please me

Hey, little lady,

I think I love you

Nah just kidding

I want to *******

In fact, bring a friend to

There enough room in my bed

For both of you

Come on give me all you've got

Because your both so freakin' hot
(Haha)

I want them all 

Not just one

Maybe I'm a little greedy

Still, think I'm cheesy?

Nah I'm freakin' seedy

But don't be fooled

It takes a lot to please me

©2017 Written By Benji James
Just something ridiculous and fun
"Days without you are torturing, nights without you are grievous.
I look for the comfort that I used to find in your lap. Where will I get you mumma? Where?", a scream lashed in despair echoed.
"I'll be the gallop to **** the dormant twilight,
I'll be the golden rays to snog your sleepy eyes,
I'll be the stretch of vitality,
I'll be the aroma of your morning coffee,
I'll be the shower of sprightliness to drench you with new zeal,
I'll be the savour of your breakfast and joy of a full square meal,
I'll be your steps towards glory,
I'll be the sigh after your every failed story,
I'll be the hop of excitement,
Acquainting a flunk, I'll be the screech of your lament,
I'll be the bliss you find seeing the sun going down,
I'll be in the sloth dispelling plangent words of azan,
I'll be the spectator of your big bright smile,
I'll be the witness to the every tear you wipe,
Never in your life you're alone,
Be it your hearty gale or saddening mourn,
Walking by you like your shadow,
Even beyond the eternity I'll follow", whispered her mother. :')
-Aparajita Tripathi
Gulishta Dec 2017
You made me by your flesh and blood.
You brought me to this world.
You bled for me,you went through immense pain for me.
You fed me the bite out of your mouth.
You dress me up in the fanciest gowns.
You are strict when you need to be.
You are gentle,.when I want you to be.
You are calm in between a chaos.
Your kiss can heal any wound.
Your touch is the best medicine.
Your hugs the warmest of the cocoons.
Your lap,the best bed I've ever slept on.
Your voice itself is my lullaby.
Your arms still the best home.
Your fussing over ,I won't exchange for the world.
You are my UNIVERSE.

You are my best friend. .
    When I need one.
You are my cheerleader. .
    When I have no one.
You are the difference. .
    Between good and bad.
You are the FACE OF THE GOD.

You are my partner in crime.
My bank where every dime is mine.
You are my first school.
You are everything that I wanna be.
You are the strength that no one can beat.
You work every minute of every week.
You stand up for me even when your knees went weak.

You are what every child should have.
You are what we took for granted.
You are the world itself..
You have so many names.
YOU ARE MY MOTHER,
MY AMMI......MY MUMMA.
    AND MY MAA.
Freetowrite Mar 2014
He walks In with a plan
His daddy's gun in his hand
He was dealt the decision
And was now on a mission

He sat in his room
On the end of his bed
And waited the minutes
So slow were the seconds

The hand on the clock
He watched
Ever so loud
Was each tick tock

His head was spinning
But he had no choice
He was the man in this house
Even though he was only a boy

He heard the last bits of her screaming
After his mumma had taken her latest beating

She was the strongest woman
In her every being

She copped a flogging
Almost every second night
When her husband was full of grog
And he started to run dry

He heard her make a move to her room
And he knew she was safe
Time now coming to soon
For his coming fate

He waits for the creaking
The steps on the floorboards
His heart thumping hard
As his daddy tripped drunk over
Hidden cords

Just as his daddy approached his little sisters room
To do what he did nightly
As he sinned under the moon

His daddy stumbled swearing up to his knees
As his boy stepped into the hallway
Faced his father
With eyes pleading

Daddy your not going
to go in their tonight
Mummas had enough
And my sister is to young for this life

"******* boy
Who do you think you are "
As his son stood taller
And confronted him
Eyes hard

You beat on my mother
You abuse my sister
And I've had enough
Nows the time for you to listen

And as his daddy stood up
All his 6"2
His son smiled to himself and said
Daddy .....
I've always been bigger than you

Daddy plunged forward
But his eyes saw the shine
His son with his gun
And a glean in his eye

Daddy stopped in his tracks
" son pass me the gun "
Your sister is safe
And I promise I won't beat your mum

The putrid *****
Back to his old tricks
But the boy wasn't falling
for none of this

And as daddy stepped forward
With a clenched fist
It was then
He heard
The gun go click

The pressure to his stomach
Didn't hurt like he thought
Because he was gutless
And only blood poured

He went down slowly
And couldn't help but notice
The look of relief
On His only sons face

He knew he was a man now
As he took his rightful place

The boy watched his father
Die right there in the hall

And in unison
The closing of two doors

His mother came to his side
And took his fathers gun
She looked in his eyes
And said
"I've got this son "

As he sat with his sister
And the police combed the hall
She cuddled him tight
He  cuddled her  more

They could hear whispers
As their mother spoke
She said
" officer he was drunk must have fallen
And croaked "
He must have been cleaning it
Or putting it away
I'm sorry sir I was asleep
And so were they

My husband always was playing with that gun
My husband always was just a failing drunk

As the officer looked into this broken woman's eyes
He saw her bruises
As they covered her lies

He said mam
I'm sorry for your loss

He patted her son and said
Well now " boy you are boss "

They walked through their days
Better and knowing
Life was brighter
For that ******* going x
Anubhuti priya Apr 2015
I PROBABELY WAIT FOR THE NIGHT TO COME
SINCE THE MORNING TILL THE NIGHT AT 1:00.
Please don’t ask I wait for whom?
Not for the moon, but yes for the moon.
My hands wont stop to check my phone,
Who knows when he calls?
And when my phone rang?
I answer it in my cheerful fashion,
His voice, his breath is now passion;
Yes I really wait for his call to come,
Want his goodi  to sleep,
& for licking! his thumb.
Our talking doesn’t goes sooo long everyday,
But yes he never ask that , “do I have anything to say?”
Our conversation takes  pretty much time,
That’s y I like beer and he likes wine…
He proved he love me somewhere,
Otherwise, which boy likes be a mumma for a girl to care?
His all lovingly  efforts
Gives me, the whole comfort,
His hand on my head,
his lips on my neck,
I know will never let me dead,
I love to hear when he took a deep breath.
He is my connection to be fine,
There’s  nothing for that I force him,
But yes, for me, he’s mine.
Yes I usually don’t sleep before 1:00
Coz I passionately wait to listen his voice at onces,
That’s y I wait for the night to come,
Since morning to till the night at 1:00.

— The End —