I have understood my mother in the present weather.
Her colourless, toothless, though contended a smile
Naif, fair, with dappled on face,
Age and height middled
Beautiful, my ‘maa’ she was.
In winter, she caught the ability to forget,
Forget her past, her present.... future-
Everything, but not everything, not me.
I was the nectar if bee she was,
I was the light if shadow was she.
My grey haired mother forgot her grey,
Grey haired days.
I have seen her cry, when the hell freezes over,
Weep, wrinkle or beam.
I saw her mewl once, in asylum.
Her cry aired her yen, for a
Monosyllabic moniker ‘maa’
I.... I couldn’t verbalize my core-
I couldn’t address her ‘maa'.
My gratification and vanity eclipsed
My inner voice.
My lips couldn’t move
I never called her, never needed to....
Perpetrator, her overflowing a chalice of love-
Always knew what I needed.
That day, my heart pricked,
My maw itched,
But.... my lips ******.
There she lies wrinkled now ,
Fairer than she was
Brighter than she ever could be
Most beautiful I ever saw.
Her obnoxious soapy miasma pacified me now,
Her perturbing din of needle sticks lulls me,
The absence of her ceaseless mag haunts me now.
I never understood her presence in her presence;
But now absence absence.
Hour remembers her no more
Nor she me in the last days....
I have understood her now....
Or
Have I understood her yet?
When our loved ones leave unexpectedly, then we remember our morely regret the moments or mistakes which could have been better and more absorbing if we would have been a bit more careful. We even start to miss which we disliked the most about that person. I wrote poems doing the pen in my own blood. Please read first and let me know your valuable comments.
