"mummy" poems
rain
mud and grass
common prayer
good weather
good people
art
and umbrella bags
because who wants to
get wet?
unless it’s with you
I could
I would
jump into the lake
for that rock
sew
cleanse
initials made in sharpie
and unclamp
we run
around the park
the afternoon surrounds us
the woman in the bikini
passes
and we laugh
iced tea
decaf coffee
cake without teeth
and that airstream camper
you always wanted
I could live in your
backyard
I could live somewhere
not here
in silver
prostrated
with my back to the
moon
like dead
like a mummy
like a mirror
and life would make sense
life would be beautiful
like this run
with perfect amounts of sweat
and conversation that runs
waves in the sand
and tells the squirrels
*goodnight, tractor
see you tomorrow*
and the land that billows
is dug up
and chewed
like a goodnight poem
this run with you
takes rest
on my soul
and I crack my ribs
to take the spring’s
twilight
aroma
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
Watch out for power,
for its avalanche can bury you,
snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain.
Watch out for hate,
it can open its mouth and you'll fling yourself out
to eat off your leg, an instant *****
Watch out for friends,
because when you betray them,
as you will,
they will bury their heads in the toilet
and flush themselves away.
Watch out for intellect,
because it knows so much it knows nothing
and leaves you hanging upside down,
mouthing knowledge as your heart
falls out of your mouth.
Watch out for games, the actor's part,
the speech planned, known, given,
for they will give you away
and you will stand like a naked little boy,
******* on your own child-bed.
Watch out for love
(unless it is true,
and every part of you says yes including the toes),
it will wrap you up like a mummy,
and your scream won't be heard
and none of your running will end.
Love? Be it man. Be it woman.
It must be a wave you want to glide in on,
give your body to it, give your laugh to it,
give, when the gravelly sand takes you,
your tears to the land. To love another is something
like prayer and can't be planned, you just fall
into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.
Special person,
if I were you I'd pay no attention
to admonitions from me,
made somewhat out of your words
and somewhat out of mine.
A collaboration.
I do not believe a word I have said,
except some, except I think of you like a young tree
with pasted-on leaves and know you'll root
and the real green thing will come.
Let go. Let go.
Oh special person,
possible leaves,
this typewriter likes you on the way to them,
but wants to break crystal glasses
in celebration,
for you,
when the dark crust is thrown off
and you float all around
like a happened balloon.
11.7k
You came in late, again
I said hello, pecked your cheek
and waited for the flow of excuses.
None came.
You went and poured a drink
I sat awaiting your words.
You came back in, sat heavily down
and looked at the floor.
I felt rage inside my breast,I had news to tell.
You never asked how I was, or how my day went.
I sat quietly waiting, listening to the ice ***** the glass,
I felt as vulnerable as that ice cube, once solid now melting,
waiting, fuming, controlling my anger.
You looked up, you looked at me, no through me, and said
"I'm late because I've been having an affair"
Did a freight train just hit me? I felt despair, but you said more,
"She's pregnant, and is keeping the child"
Clarity liberated me from my stupor, late nights,
meetings, high mileage on the car.
I asked a question,
"Are you leaving me?"
You dropped your head, and said the words most wives dread
"Yes, I have to be a father, do the right thing, I love you but....."
Your words trailed off.
I stood up, took your glass and refilled it for you.
My turn.
"Did you start coming home late because of her? Or because I've gained weight? Or both those reasons?"
Silence.
"Pack your bags, leave the keys, get a hotel bed"
Those words came out so clear, you'd swear I'd knifed you.
~
At the front door, you turned, about to say something, I cut you off
"Send me your new address, I need it for the solicitor,
I'm divorcing you. And by the way, before I forget, you're not the only
one that's been late, it would seem you know how to propagate"
I shut the door, rubbed my tummy, and waited to be called mummy.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 2:35 PM UTC
My memory beats in rhythm with my heart.
Spilling out snapshot flashes of life like a flick book's muffled cries.
Controversial plastic shell, elastic strap, stick insect mattel covetted for months
until Santa dropped it down the chimney,
almost as fast as she sprogged and regained her figure
- the original scrummy yummy mummy set to spread low self esteem.
My daddy said anyone can crank out a kid like she did,
as my mother ground her teeth to protest on behalf of her traumatised frame.
Strange, I almost became one of the lost - before I grew cells and self,
another fragile foetus swinging on a noose
from gallows where once a ****** failed to stayed closed.
Little life curled tight self soothing sings al na tivke iredem bim'nucha
My memory beats in rhythm with my heart
as I lie beneath my shroud of sadness filled with down shrinking from the light of day
I want to tell you that I love you,
that my heart brays, beats, bleets, breaks, aches for you.
My soul, spirit, self thrice chorus al na tivke iredem bim'nucha
as waters flow from deep to deep
where danger dances and solace is sought
from beyond the fruitless orchards and willows weeping
branches reaching out for you.
My memory beats in rhythm with my heart
surrounded by madonna, ***** and all betwixt
spheres of life protruding, pronounced, announcing themselves;
in streets where bundles, terrors, cherubs, banting, brat and bairn alike
shriek, scream, squeal, shout, squalk, squabble, sing
in a cacophony that makes my heart weep and ache in longing
to sing to self in solitude al na tivke iredem bim'nucha.
My memory beats in rhythm with my heart
pulsating thoughts, dreams, hopes of you through the whole of me.
Brought to my knees I seek wisdom, guidence, strength to let you go.
The river is waiting for you, you who I hold tight in my caul
trying to trust, seeking strength to hakshev le'ivshat haga'lim
holding the thought of you,
the love of you,
the hope of you
tight in my arms crooning my lullaby of lament
al na tivke iredem bim'nucha
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 5:57 PM UTC
Freezing dusk is closing
Like a slow trap of steel
On trees and roads and hills and all
That can no longer feel.
But the carp is in its depth
Like a planet in its heaven.
And the badger in its bedding
Like a loaf in the oven.
And the butterfly in its mummy
Like a viol in its case.
And the owl in its feathers
Like a doll in its lace.
Freezing dusk has tightened
Like a nut ******* tight
On the starry aeroplane
Of the soaring night.
But the trout is in its hole
Like a chuckle in a sleeper.
The hare strays down the highway
Like a root going deeper.
The snail is dry in the outhouse
Like a seed in a sunflower.
The owl is pale on the gatepost
Like a clock on its tower.
Moonlight freezes the shaggy world
Like a mammoth of ice -
The past and the future
Are the jaws of a steel vice.
But the cod is in the tide-rip
Like a key in a purse.
The deer are on the bare-blown hill
Like smiles on a nurse.
The flies are behind the plaster
Like the lost score of a jig.
Sparrows are in the ivy-clump
Like money in a pig.
Such a frost
The flimsy moon
Has lost her wits.
A star falls.
The sweating farmers
Turn in their sleep
Like oxen on spits.
6.8k
The tavern roof was smokey
with a pall of blueish ash.
The juke box was a- booming
as it played "The Monster Mash".
A giant puffed a burning witch
whilst smoke rings he exhaled....
While victims of our neighbor,
Vlad...on stakes were all impaled.
The Faceless Man was grinning...
from ear to missing ear.
The hanged man turned his twisted neck
to sip a mug of beer.
The Headless Horseman shouted
for an aspirin or three.
He popped them down his gullet
where his head was meant to be.
The zombies waited tables
and the werewolf tended bar.
Mothra was the carhop
and took orders car to car.
Godzilla worked the griddle
and served burgers ala carte.
Dracula complained about the steak
caught in his heart.
Ghosts and ghouls were dancing
with abandon on the stage
While cyborgs did "the robot"
'cause they thought it was the rage.
The mummy came unraveled
as we took him for a "spin"
As Frankenstein played tuba
to contribute to the din.
Igor brought "the monster"
and then Freddie brought his claw.
Jason brought his butcher knife
and his buddy from "The Saw".
The guillotine was working
and the raven refereed
So nevermore would pardons
be
allowed to intercede.
The pendulum was swinging
to the beating of my heart.
I hoped that I would wake up soon...
then did so...with a START!
Halloween is coming. So, I guess
I should prepare.
Watch out for bars with men from Mars...
'cause BEASTIES party there!
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 6:45 AM UTC
Sitting calmly aligning in-between the three sitters
Adorn with a silk from milk
Thinking about the libido of her crown
Like a star lost in the galaxy
After seeing a Ghanaian movie
A sudden push through her opening
as placenta push through during birth,
as water break through from underground
a cloth of blood, fought through
She felt it,
she saw it,
But what to do? What not to do? and how?
Was a question demanding an answer,
Like a man lost on the crossroad
On his wedding night,
On his bed
Close to the bride like a ****** bird
To be and not to be like Shakespeare
She shouted
What is this?
Blood!!!
This is the making of a woman
An end to her holiness
A new spring of emotion and pain
No more daddy and mummy play
Remember "Always" always
When the visitor is around
you are now a woman
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 4:45 AM UTC
Whispering night fades to sable dull morning
Verda in black whilst her mother is mourning
cabaret clown-show dances in deep
Verda is down in the valleys of sleep
Verda takes pills in a sinister tomb
smiles wicked smiles and her eyes turn to moons
mummy is rocking away by her side
and pulls out her teeth to a sweet lullaby
Girl-child Verda, who loves cuts and bruises
with a stitched-up mind which she frequently loses
and a mother who stops her from having her play
other children are pink but her Verda is grey
Delicate lace is lined in her coffin
Verda in black whilst her body is rotting
chemical residue flows in her veins
Verda's no child and her mother's insane
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 8:30 AM UTC
Craving for my mummy's cupcakes
But mummy isn't at home
She has classes day in and out..
Who will bake me cupcakes?
I am super cravings..
I want yummy cupcakes..
Hah! Let's bake my own cupcakes
and surprise mummy a little..
when she gets home
flour, butter ,sugar, eggs
put them all together in the mixer
and out I go to play some games
Oh .. now I remember the fun of my cupcakes
but oppss... what have I done?
my mom's kitchen is in disaster!
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 10:08 PM UTC
TW: Self-Harm
Mummy,
My flesh is my own,
Grown and sewn,
To skin and bone.
But my mind is hurt and I don't know why.
As the metal hit,
On leg to wrist,
It painted my body.
Nothing could stop me.
It was addictive,
Yet I am still alive.
Why?
From one to two,
Then some to a few.
I could not keep score,
My body is now torn.
Jan 2, 2024
Jan 2, 2024 at 11:42 AM UTC
When I was a little girl I wanted to be a princess, parade around my castle all day in pretty clothes and tiaras on my head.
When I was a teenager I wanted to be a mummy, my very own tiny baby that would sleep all night and be kitted out in only designer gear, we'd have everything.
When I was becoming a adult I wanted the big white wedding, the fancy ring and husband who would stand by me through anything.
Now I'm a woman the wanting has left my head, life is not a fairy tale and designer clothes ha! Only if you're rich, beware of the husbands you choose two for they can turn out to be just pigs.
Now older and wiser still I really must say, the only thing you should be wanting is happiness and peace for each and everyone.
(SW)
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
You bring me good news from the clinic,
Whipping off your silk scarf, exhibiting the tight white
Mummy-cloths, smiling: I'm all right.
When I was nine, a lime-green anesthetist
Fed me banana-gas through a frog mask. The nauseous vault
Boomed with bad dreams and the Jovian voices of surgeons.
Then mother swam up, holding a tin basin.
O I was sick.
They've changed all that. Traveling
**** as Cleopatra in my well-boiled hospital shift,
Fizzy with sedatives and unusually humorous,
I roll to an anteroom where a kind man
Fists my fingers for me. He makes me feel something precious
Is leaking from the finger-vents. At the count of two,
Darkness wipes me out like chalk on a blackboard. . .
I don't know a thing.
For five days I lie in secret,
Tapped like a cask, the years draining into my pillow.
Even my best friend thinks I'm in the country.
Skin doesn't have roots, it peels away easy as paper.
When I grin, the stitches tauten. I grow backward. I'm twenty,
Broody and in long skirts on my first husband's sofa, my fingers
Buried in the lambswool of the dead poodle;
I hadn't a cat yet.
Now she's done for, the dewlapped lady
I watched settle, line by line, in my mirror—
Old sock-face, sagged on a darning egg.
They've trapped her in some laboratory jar.
Let her die there, or wither incessantly for the next fifty years,
Nodding and rocking and ********* her thin hair.
Mother to myself, I wake swaddled in gauze,
Pink and smooth as a baby.
5.3k
The ship on solid ground
Wishing for the ocean on its bow
To have the high seas caress its hull
The spray refreshing,
But it is on ground,
Lonely for the ocean,
Yearning for that which is so close but afar,
Waves seen crashing on shore
So inviting,
It sees friends in the distance, cutting through waves
Traveling the big blue,
It craves for what it see's
Then a child jumps on
"Mummy,"
"Coin,"
The music starts,
Reality sinks back in,
It travels the waves, of plastic blue,
Music of soothing noise
It dreams of the ocean
But never will be,
As it sits out side an amusement park,
"Teased by the view of the ocean "
That it will never feel,
Only this sea of plastic blue.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC
Another morning in the life
Of a P.T.D, I slurped my
Juice back all 400 ml, then
Stretched up, fingers
Wiggling as mother picked
Me up.
Snuggles in the morning
Nothing better, to show I'm
Loved. But back to business,
As I turned my dummy to
The opposite side, the taste
Is better every time its turned
Soothing with each ****
It was nearly breakfast time
A belly is never wrong,
MMmmm...
Toast and jam, I smile
At mummy with my
Cheshire Jam smiled face.
"Silly little man"
As she wipes the smudges
From all over my face.
A case to solve, was my plan,
The missing statue of
SANDMAN BOB tm.
It was here before, but now
Gone, the prized possession
Of hairy dog, as I pat his head
And he licks my face
Yuckkkk....
Doggy that was yuck, he wags
His tail and then he is off.
What a morning so much done,
Time for a nap then detective
Work to be done. I wake to
Dads voice,
"Morning little man"
"How was your nap"
As i give my answer with a
Yawn and a smile, he gives
A cuddle then off to work for
Hours of fun and playing games.
The clues to be seen the trail
To be found, for I'm
***** Trained Detective"*
And no case is to far, as
Long as I can have a nap
And a cuddle, maybe a
Little sip and a gulp, here
On look out of what is to
Be found.
Hairy dog is sleeping in his
bed, I hear a noise I hear a
Sound??
What a strange noise,
"Snoring"
"NO"
"Bottom belches"
"No funny smells"
As I lift up his blanky
Softly so not to wake doggy's sleep,
And their he is safe and sound.
"SANDMAN BOB"
"Playing hide and go seek"
Under hairy dogs nose and bottom,
As he sleeps it does squeak, it
Does beep, I lift it up and under
His paw, to surprise him when
He awakens. A tail shall wiggle
And flop around, but the case was
Solved and a happy smile found.
***** Trained Detective* does it
Again, but for now it is nap time,
A new case, a new thing to be
Found. I will see you all again
Soon, But now its snuggles
Time with mummy in bed.
As I close my eyes night, night
I turn my dummy once more,
As sheep float quietly over my head.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
If you go down to the woods today
You're sure of a big surprise
If you go down to the woods today
You might even meet your demise
Because today’s the day they all have their picnic.
Every last one who's been cruel to you is sure of a treat today
There's lots of innocent thoughts to ruin and many dreams crush
Anywhere possible, where nobody sees they'll taunt and slice as long as they please
That's the way they all have their picnic
Picnic time for them all
They're all having a lovely time today
Watching, waiting for the perfect time...
They see you gaily gad about
You loved to play and shout
You never had any cares
But at six o'clock your Mummy and Daddy can't take you home at all
'Cause all you are is their dead little victim.
If you go down to the woods to day,
You better not go alone.
It's alluring down in the woods today,
But safer to stay at home.
For every bully or abuser or hater or cheater ever there was will gather there for certain
Because...
Today’s the day the ones that ruined your life will have their picnic...
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 8:28 PM UTC
My life I would give up for you.
Sweet baby.
I would stand in front of a dashing car for you.
My life not as precious as yours.
Why I hear the reader say?
And to you I shall respond.
I need not ponder my decision.
As you are less than one.
And you are innocent and beautiful.
Your life will seem like it's eternal.
As children never realise that all are doomed to die.
Childhood is thrilling.
You have the fizz of sparkling wine.
Within the mind of curiosity.
Your limbs so young and flexible.
You'll maybe enjoy playing football or cricket.
Dancing like the child you are, you do that now with mummy's support.
Or whatever you should fancy, as your persona develops.
Breathe in the scent of evening flowers.
Maybe night scented Jasmine.
You will remember that.
Almost, cos I said you would.
I know I always do.
I also love the smell of the tiger lilies'. As the colours of their tango vibrancy, tickles my nose.
And flatter my eyes with the itching and tears, as my hay fever bites.
(c) Liv
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 3:47 PM UTC
A star of blood you fell
from the point of the hypodermic
singing of fabulous beasts &
spitting out the *** of vowels
Your poems explode in the mouth
like torrents of ***** on a night
full of zebras & bootheels
Your ghost still cruses the river-
fronts of midnight assignations
in a world of dead sailors carrying
armfuls of flowers in search of
your unmarked grave
Your body no sanctuary for bees,
Death was your lover in a rain of
broken obelisks & rotting orchids
In the tangled rose of a single heartbeat
I offer you the shadow of a double
profile,
two heads held together at the bridge
of the nose by a nail of *****
smoke
in the long night's dreaming
& memory of water poured between
glasses
In my mailbox I find a letter from
a dead man & know that for every
shadow given
one is taken away
Yet subtraction is only a special form of
addition and implies a world of hidden
intentions below a horizon of lips
thin as your fingernail sprouting
mysteries in the earth …
The ace of spades dealt from the bottom
of the deck severs the hand which
retrieves it & the eyes of Beauty
sewn together peer over a black lace fan
in the ****** sunlight of a Spanish
morning without horses
The Belt of Orion is loosened
before you as you remove the silver
fingerstalls from your mummy hands &
kneel to plunder the nightsky in a shower of
bitter diamonds.
(Somewhere under a blanket someone weeps
for a lover.)
Peace to your soul
& to your empty shoes
in the dark closets of
kings with no feet!!!
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 4:06 PM UTC
Sandbox giggles and seesaw chuckles
echo around the park.
Little ones pitter patter on tarmac and grass,
oblivious to their age.
All they know is the sun is shining
and they're going to feel like this forever.
Rubber throwing and hushed whispers
echo around the classroom.
Schoolkids adding and subtracting,
oblivious to their age.
All they know is that they hate math
and they're going to be an astronaut when they grow.
Cheesy pop songs and girly giggles
echo around a bedroom.
She's curling her friend's hair and smiling,
oblivious to her age.
All she knows is that Jake is a cutie
and she's going to marry him when she's 21.
Birthday wishes and _lots of love!_
echo around the dinner table.
He's having his first beer as an 18-year-old and loving it,
oblivious to his age.
All he knows is that he's going out tonight
and staying up till dawn.
Baby rattles and first words
echo around the house.
The baby is mumbling its first word,
oblivious to the meaning behind it.
All it knows is that its mummy is warm
and it's daddy smells nice.
Memories of sandboxes and summer nights
echo around their heads.
They're laying in a bed in a sanitary place,
oblivious to the current situation.
All they know is that their time is up,
but they had such fun whilst it lasted.
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 8:46 PM UTC
THE SMELL OF PURPLE
She says she can smell yellow.
She says she can smell blue.
despite, not being able to
spell either colour.
“Yellow smells the same - as blue.
...like a wet kitty drying by the fire.
Red smells like
Mummy when she kisses.
Her kisses smell different
when she kisses you...
...then she smells like flames
with little orange tips!
Purple is my favourite smell...
...it smells just like a magic spell!”
I kiss her goodnight
like lilac (only lighter)
with little flecks of purple
scattered here & there.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC
A DEATH CREATES A DECEMBER/OCTOBER TWIN BIRTH WITH RAY POCOCK’S LIFE FOLLOWING HIS TRAGIC NEXT LIFE’S DEATH
YOU SEE ROBERT KINOSHITA, TURNS 100, AND GOES UP TO SATURN TO
DO A FEW ROBOT DANCES, AND INVENTS THIS LITTLE SONG
I AM THE GREATEST, I MADE A FAMOUS ROBOT
IT WAS IN A GREAT GREAT SHOW TITLED LOST IN SPACE
I WANTED TO LIVE FOREVER, BUT I EVENTUALLY KICKED THE BUCKET
BUT I LIVED TO BE 100, TO SAY I DID THE ROBOT DANCE
I DID THE ROBOT DANCE, SAYING
I AM A ROBOT, I AM A ROBOT, MY WAY IS COMING TRUE THROUGHOUT THE LAND
I AM A ROBOT EVERY SINGLE DAY
I CREATED ROBOT B-9, HE WAS FAMOUS FOR SAYING
DANGER WILL ROBINSON DANGER WILL ROBINSON DANGER WILL ROBINSON
AND THEN SAID, I AM A ROBOT, I AM A ROBOT,
I AM COMING TO EXTERMINATE YOU, I AM A ROBOT FOREVER AND EVER
AND THEN AS I GET OFF STAGE I TIP A KEG OF METHANE ALL OVER RAY POCOCK
TO SAY, LET’S MAKE TWINS IN OCTOBER, WELL LET’S MAKE THEM DUE IN OCTOBER ANYWAY
AND ROBERT AND RAY SAID WE ARE PERFECT ROBOTS
WE WILL CREATE NEW LIFE, IN OCTOBER, OH YEAH
RAY HAS NO IDEA, EITHER HAS ROBERT, BUT THEY BOTH SAID WE ARE ROBOTS
AND DANGER, IF WE LET THE TERRORISTS WIN
WE ARE CRONUS’S, EMBASSADORS, I AM CRONUS
I AM THE ONE IN THE FAMILY, WHO LIKES IMAGINATIVE ROBOTS
AND WE DANCE, WE ARE BIG ROBOTS, WE ARE BIG ROBOTS
WE HAVE COME TO ESTERMINATE YOU GUYS IF YA COME TO CLOSE
DANGER WILL ROBINSON, DANGER WILL ROBINSON
THERE WILL BE DANGER IF ROBERT AND RAY SEPERATE, CAUSE
THEY ARE JOINED TO PROTECT THE EARTH, AND BRING PROPER ROBOTS BACK
WE WANT HELPFUL ROBOTS WE WANT HELPFUL ROBOTS
WE WILL GET THEM NOW, ROBERT KINOSHITA TIP METHANE ALL OVER BARRY ALLAN
CAUSE, HE WON’T EXCEPT HE IS NOW ELIZABETH ANN CAMPBELL
DANGER BARRY ALLAN ROBERT SAID IF YOU GET THIS YOUR LIKE ME AND MUMMY CRAP OUT OF YOUR SONS
DANGER AHEAD, TO OLD HAGS WE ARE BIG ROBOTS, AND WE WILL STAY BIG ROBOTS FOREVER
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 3:08 AM UTC
Hello friends, It's always great to be here, to write for the greatest platform with a different theme & to write something new everyday,but today this letter is for someone special of my life & behind every family that person is so special!!.. my inspiration is marked by the most beautiful & charming soul of my mother's thoughts!.. this letter is on the best occasion of women's day too. As like every special flowers shines with a time of golden light, like that today it is named by the brightest leaf of Pearl. it is a day when a real pearl of beauty shines all over the world & up the cloud a bird fly up in the sky to see the day to be know for them!!it is the International Women's day!
Every women's are so special of there home, they are the flowers of earth, star of the brightest moon and the main part is there are the maker of this world!. Women's are the most beautiful soul of the house & there are the head captain of the life!! because of them we are here & As for me, it's My mother because of my mom today I am here.. today is my mom's birthday.. so few lines for you mom & for every women's of the world!!.
Hello Mummy Namaste!.
Happy Birthday to you Mom!!. you are the best forever!!.
You are my idol, my inspiration, my gorgeous friend & one of the bestest & the greatest cook of all time!!. your cooking is out of the world every single dish are living in my mouth every day with a Beautiful & delicious taste!!.
Mom, thanks for giving me this life & the freedom to discover my thoughts by myself & to teach me that freedom is not what you need,freedom is what you discover!!. !!.. Thank-you for everything Mom!!. In every smile, every tear and every cheer you were always there for me through the years supporting me and providing me with all the energy I needed in order to stand in the game called life.
Today what I am is because of your mom for me you are everything.. on this special day I want to thank you and Wish you a Happy birthday to the best mother ever in the world. Today or tomorrow I cannot give you the gift, till my end of life journey & further of life because the amount of love and everything that you have given to me is not enough me to count & to reach out to the world. but I will give you everything that's my promise... This year and every year I will give you more & more happiness and make you proud to smile always!!. And happy women's day to Mom you are my heart & bit of life so It's party time Mom!!. thank you!!. but thank you, word will never be measures to the love that you have given!....
And happy women's days to all the world women's because there are the best women's of their life!!. Every Home, Every Heart, Every Feeling, Every Moment Of happiness is incomplete without you, Only you can complete this world Happy Women’s Day
Every Women's is a Mother, a Sister, a wife, & a friend of the beauty life so please respect the women's & they deserve a chance to be what they are & they are the best!.
So please respect!!.
Thank-you!!.
- Chirayu
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 3:39 AM UTC
Algeria a rich land poor people,
Angola seems to have kings,
Benin is blessed with voodoo,
Botswana blood bulls diamonds,
Burkina Faso can't cope coups,
Burundi twelve years a slave,
Cape Verde has half a million,
Cameroon got cocoa,
Chad's lake is shrinking,
Comoros has under a million,
DRC is third largest,
Congo is it's neighbour with capitals facing,
Côte d'Ivoire has few elephants,
Djibouti's on the horn,
Egypt has mummy's,
Equatorial guinea struck oil in 95 but didn't loose change,
Eritrea has 5000 running annually,
Ethiopia's great rift is pretty ******
Gabon is subject to black gold,
Gambia got a peace of it after 65,
Great Ghana oasis of peace,
Guinea is diverse,
Bissau too,
Kenyans have beautiful smiles,
Lesotho is SA's baby,
Liberia oldest republic,
Libya needs liberty,
Madagascar where are the penguins!
Malawi has warm hearts,
Mali is 8th,
Mauritania is 11th,
Mauritius marvel,
Morocco fine leather,
Mozambique keeps the dugongs,
Namibia Windhoek ah,
Niger after a river,
Nigeria makes zuma rock,
Rwanda listen,
Sao tome and principe 2nd smallest,
Senegoals,
She sells Seychelles,
Sierra Leone free?
Somalia loose,
S. Africa reign,
South Sudan independent?
Sudan - black,
Swaziland more than solo men,
Tanzania trade,
Togo up down,
Two knees yeah,
Uganda teacher come simeon,
Zambia's peace?
Zimbabwe got rid of Mugabe.
Always thought zed was co.za but we're actually co.zm,
so what's zim?
One way we'll loose change is when the overseers begin to acknowledge the under looked.
-nyanta
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 5:28 PM UTC
At one
Life had begun,
I could walk,that was fun,
Always smothered with kisses,mummy's yummy bun.
At two,
I grew too,
Did everything I wanted to do,
Again and again,then undo,
Refused to go to the loo,
Loved to spill the shampoo,
Stubborn as a mule,
With tears, buckets of boo.
At three ,
I was free,
No pampers,mum in glee,
Went to loo to ***
Hated milk, loved tea,
Fell often, grazed my knees.
At four,
Could do small chores,
Wipe a spill on the floor,
For visitors open door,
My own clothes I wore,
A glass of water I could pour.
At five,
I was alive,
A queen bee in a hive,
I learned to thrive,
First time I learned to swim and dive.
At six ,
I was a bag of tricks,
Just for kicks,
Smart at solving conflicts,
Easily able to come out of a fix,
Clever and confident, teachers'
best pick.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 3:27 PM UTC
Mummy I love you
It pains me to look pass your shell
To see that inner being
So many struggles that seem bleak
As your daughter
Helpless, what can I do to ease the pain?
Thank you for bringing me to this world
The worries and frustration in nurturing
I am forever grateful
For your sacrifices you've made
I will never forget those times
Where you were the only one I could rely on
I'm sorry for being rude
Ignoring your nags
Dismissing your efforts
I could not appreciate
I could not understand
I was too young and naive then
As the years pass
My wish is for you to love yourself more
To be who you wanna be
Start to live a life of your own
Not to live for us your children
Mummy, I love you
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 6:26 AM UTC
So beautiful lay you all
In your tiny beds
Cuddled up with
Panda, Firstlove,
Tiny tears and
Noel.
Little fingers curled tight
Knees rolled up
I leaned over you all and kissed
What was my great delight.
We went about together
Down the roads and parks
Caught a train to London
The museums and the art.
You grew up, gently, slowly
In each other’s arms
We made Chocolate Easter
Bunnies and Christmas shower.
We touched the lights together
Sang each other’s songs
Four wonderful children
Never got it wrong.
Love Mummy xxxxx
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC