"nurturer" poems
.
Of
Broken circumstance
)(
Sells her ... FLOWER
)(
But not her righteousness
((((
FLOWER GIRL !
""
hippie boy
What do you say
Are you gonna keep your honor
And preserve the purity ?
Flower child !
Earth mother
To be
///
Nurturer and healer
For all to see
.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 9:35 PM UTC
The most beautiful creation in all of existence is a mother.
She's surpassed only by the love she feels for her child,
or children.
She's perfect by design,
God's reflection.
She's a gentle touch in the infancy of our being,
the nurturer of adolescence,
wisdom that guides our maturity.
She's the love that fills our hearts,
keeper of our souls,
a fixture within our spirit.
She exhibits incredible strength,
especially those who bare the burden of being fathers as well.
Life is the house in which we all reside,
but a mother is Home,
that amazing.
She's an angel in the guise of woman,
all of humanity are her offspring.
A day isn't nearly enough time to express our gratitude.
It would take all of eternity.
Know that you are loved,
and greatly appreciated mothers.
Without you there would be no us.
Happy Mother's Day.
- James D. Woods
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 6:00 PM UTC
for my mother
the lioness is both a fierce protector
and a gentle nurturer
nothing escapes the gaze of her amber eyes
but she seldom feels the need to roar
she hunts with unmatched precision
but still has the patience to teach, and work with others
she understands her role in her pride
but is never proud
she possesses unparalleled strength
as well as the wisdom to know when to use it
she won't hesitate to grab her cub by the scruff of its neck
to keep it out of harms way
she is more than capable of working alone
but understands the importance of community
she never loses her spirit of playfulness
and her primary habitat is in the grasslands of Africa
but there are some things about the lioness
that you can't learn about by reading
she will wait up for you, when you're out past curfew
just to make sure that you get home safely
she will always be a listening ear
but she will never judge you
she loves others without condition
but knows better than to feel before she thinks
she will encourage you ceaselessly
and tell you you're more than good enough
this lioness, of which i speak
has not claws, nor tail, nor fangs, nor paws
but she is far more powerful
than any jungle cat could ever hope to be
- m.f.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
I gotta say, you sure know how to pick 'em.
I know that by now, you realize that I'm the furthest thing from perfect but for some reason you still saw something in me that made you want to spend the rest of your life with me. And to that again I say, you sure know how to pick 'em.
There are few things i want you to know about me before you get too heavily involved. You see, I am a nurturer by nature. I am the caretaker to all and the kind heart that everyone turns to. So I apologize if some days I am lost under the weight of the world I put on my own shoulders by accepting the problems of those that asked and believe me, everybody asks. I'm sorry if this can crush me to the point where I disappear but all I ask is that you help me find my way back again. Because you are the lighthouse for my stormy mind.
Another thing is that I can ask too much. I can lose myself in the problems of my own design and the problems designed by others and sometimes I will fall apart and not know how to put the pieces back together again. So I'm sorry for asking too much but I hope that you will learn patience and knowing to pick up the pieces, but let me put them back together.
I am also one with what you'd call "flights of fancy." I may want to be a pastry chef one day and then a French teacher the other, I will go through weeks, and sometimes months, where I will be preoccupied with only one thing. Just know that no matter where my imagination takes me, where my interests may lead, I will always come home to you because being your wife is the one thing that I can never stop wanting to do.
I'm sure you've already noticed how passionate I can be when I care about something. I will scream, cry, and cheer with everything in my being for the things that I believe in. Please don't laugh too much when I start crying over the death of a character in a book series or start screaming at the tv because the people talking are just so stupid and wrong and they need to know that they're wrong so I'm going to tell them even though they can't hear me... Just let me be, but also know when to tell me that I'm just being crazy. Because I know that I'm crazy, sometimes I just need a second opinion.
On the topic of second opinions, oftentimes I value the words of others more than I value the words of myself. Know that with a few simple words you can even lift me up to the heavens or you can tear me down further than you ever knew was possible. My uncertainty in myself will always be a problem and so I apologize if I constantly ask if I did anything wrong or if I upset you because I'm terrified that someday I will and you will leave like all the rest. I just want you to hold me. Tell me you love me even if I don't believe you especially if I don't believe you.
Be the husband I hope you will be and I will be the wife that I know I can be. Because even if it's hard, even if you get sick of the sight of me, even if the words that I say bounces off of you like water on a hot surface, know that I mean every word of "I love you" and I meant what I said when I told you "I do."
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
Pyres of cityscapes burn contingently in the distance
ever drunk with blood of a mother, a nurturer who asks
nothing of the morose, self-consumed existence
she cares for. Her brow cocked,
wrinkles descend like
rain that tears down
a window.
Pain.
You're bleeding out! But she'll never put herself
forefront. How could she? Sitting, reflecting.
Tormented by incompetence, her soft
voice silently flutters the leaves.
Drearily an extension of her lips, the words
escape the cusps like a cautious prairie-dog.
Smog obscures
the senses, a haze
darkening the pupils of your celestial eyes.
I still see You
drooping in the rocker under a hard light. Retaining know-
ledge of past and present, through spectacles.
Her deflating **** secreting
concrete into the sucklings, cementing fate,
as the clock that hangs above her falters. I shutter to think of the
future that's afore. When the one who's raised me is not.
No more.
Your timber limbs look awfully thin. Restless and alone,
she's tired. "Abandoned"
we're all alone,
but your company means more to me than a sustainable
stone.
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:31 AM UTC
And now a little something for the ladies:
Stop telling men how to be men.
You are never satisfied with the
results of your interference in the
natural order.
Ladies want a man who is sensitive
and attentive to their kaleidoscope
of emotions, who enjoys heart-
warming moments, baby showers,
and shopping malls. They want
this same man to not be attracted
to men.
Ladies want a man who will do
all of the above, plus be strong
and handsome, a provider, a
nurturer, a protector. Just as
long as he never gets angry
with her. And doesn't cheat.
Rapunzel, this man does not exist.
In caveman times, if you had
a man grab your hair, it was
because he was about to club you
unconscious and drag you back
to his real man-cave.
How barbaric...and Freudian **** eh?
You see, ladies, we don't run the
male N.F.L. locker rooms the
way you run yours.
Men are brutish, vile, roid-raged,
and coarse in competition.
Just the way you like them.
But when you find one that
likes you, you can have a
smattering of those nice things
as well. Because he likes you.
If you were lucky enough to
find a sensitive devil like
that, i know you wouldn't
do anything stupid to change
his opinion of you. That
would just be foolish and
self-defeating, wouldn't it?
After all, Women's Lib didn't
teach you to stop being women,
did it?
If you want it all, you have
to take it all, good and
bad.
Just sayin'...
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
I am not woman still healing
from scars,
from wars,
from lives,
I’m not yet ready to talk about.
I am not beautiful nor broken
I am not a poet trying to stitch together my mind in a way that makes sense...
I am not a doctor
I am not birthed as healer,
As nurturer
I am not the light,
The darkness.
I am not black woman who leads
Black woman who dances for hearts that are too afraid to beat a little unruly
I am not at all dripping lonely
Or mimicking the sun when morning comes again
I am not both enamored by life and saddened by it
I am not the lighthouse
The storm
The final destination
I am not everything you’ve ever wanted
I am not the woman who got away
I am not what you stole from you.
I am not waiting to be whole here.
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 12:13 PM UTC
^ (0) ^
//// • ||
<>
####
hope
///
She rides !
• •
• •
death is already everywhere
•
( if we don't nurture
The
NURTURERS
who then shall rule us but the KINGS ? )
//// |||| ////
She says she is looking for love
But settles for ......... What ( ! )
••
Gypsy !
//
Put on your true wild aura !
•
If you are not a
NURTURER
what are you ?
•
Ride gypsy toward free hills
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
*Some of my best friends are
The tiny grey cells in my head
For, without these tireless givers
I should sorely want*.....
For I've had.....
The power to recognise the nurturer
Who saved me countless times
Who sewed my confidence at valedictory
Gratitude to Mother...granting me first wings.
The help of a few friends with proffered lifts
Not many, but enough to light the way
Takes but one spark to lead the lost
Cannot discount the value of true goodwill.
The sweet taste of that first, deep love
Who showed the path to discovered delights
Easy mem'ries...looking back, but ****** ahead
Sighs painted on the ceiling in dreamy webs.
The awkward trip down that rabbit hole
Blue lady hanging pretty in the corner
Flies trapped flimsy, on some terylene
Many padlocks loom....to get gasping to you!
The chance to slough off onerous habits
Dive wholehearted into the universe's sea
Gaps to kickstart joy and spearhead cheer
Mentors pass the torch and believe in me!
Yes, some of my best friends are NOT seen
Most reliably spun inside this osseous shell
They answer things and help me find my truth
Thank heavens....selfless amity equals mercy.
S T, 29 June
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 10:15 AM UTC
Symbol: The crab
Opposite Sign: Capricorn
Meaning: The nurturer
Modality: Cardinal
Element: Water
Ruling House: The fourth
Ruling Body: The Moon
Motto: I feel
Birthstone: Pearl
Color: Grey
Metal: Silver
Flower: Accanthus
Fragrance: Bergamot
Lucky Day: Monday
Numbers: 1,4
Lucky Colors: Blue, Yellow, Green
Lucky Flowers: Tulip, Sacred lily
Cancer is: intuitive, psychic, sensitive, creative, possessive, moody, domestic, empathetic and insecure.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
At the dawn,
The sun sheds her cloak of moon, cloud and starry black skies
And stands naked, bright and shining,
Filled with yellows, and orange, and brilliance.
And all I can do is wish to be as lovely as she.
Such radiance! Like the Phoenix rising;
Arms turned into wings the color of glowing embers
Stretched as wide and far as the rays of the sun herself,
Bursting with passion and gold and blazing,
Too small and too wonderful to contain it all.
But we don’t believe in blinding flames anymore.
How can we dream of such light?
Wings clipped, the color of ash, bound to earth
Through chains whose links are made of things too solid to break,
Things like gravity and pasts that hurt us to remember.
Women much like any other woman;
Like my mother, my friends, myself;
Women whose light has been diminished,
Who wear cloaks of bruises and broken promises now.
Filled with fear and rage and destruction.
Sweet sisters,
Trapped in cages not of their own making.
Bodies banging and thrashing against bars
Spasming in pain and silence
Too shamed and confused to sing
No melodies are heard here,
But look how pretty the silent bird is.
Muffled by gilded cages
Constructed from hardest of materials
Things we were made to believe.
This is the darkest of places
Closed curtains block out the sun.
No moon or stars to wrap us in fitful slumber.
There is no dreaming in this gloom.
“Sing for us!” they say, “croon for us something sweet,
“Let your voice choke past your rage and sorrow
“Flit amongst golden bars, sing and dance,
“Become our vision; **** slave and nurturer
“For the cage is large and the sun cannot reach you here
“Let our praise warm you and our approval be your stars
“We will keep you safe.”
But birds such as we;
Like my mother, my friends, myself
We were not made for cages, gilded as they may be.
Our wings and hearts and love cannot be contained
Even by things of the most hurtful construction.
Lift up your wings and soar once again.
Rising like the Phoenix
Filled with rage and destruction and new promise,
From tombs of ash and tears to take flight.
Breaking through golden bars created by those who envied our passion.
We fly like no others.
At dawn
The sun and I will rise again
Shedding the pasts and hurts of yesterday
Like cloaks of moon and cloud and stars .
For I am simply me: a phoenix, daughter of the sun, naked, bright and shining
Join us.
Nov 22, 2011
Nov 22, 2011 at 2:30 AM UTC
there is something inside of me that breaks
in front of every broken person out there -
and if you can find me one person that's made it
through life without being broken, well then,
my earth might just crumble where i stand -
but like i said, it's as if i mirror them,
like their emotions crawl inside of my heart,
and start to occupy my mind, and leak their
way to my tear ducts and my mouth and my limbs,
and i lose control of it, i lose it
for that brief moment, a piece of them lives within me
my sister and i are the empaths,
that's what they like to call us anyways, but
i'd like to believe we're human,
that we should all share and feel each
other's pain so that we can sleep
at night knowing we're never truly alone
i wish i had realized sooner that feeling
isn't weakness, that i didn't need to
hide something we all share, instead,
someone whispered that message to me
in slumber and i woke up with the idea
in my head thinking it was mine
as i begin to unravel ego i realize that
my ideas have been circulating for
longer than i can conceive,
and the more i meditate on the notion
the more i realize that i've just got to
keep the current going, keep stirring
that *** and send the ideas on to
someone else who might be able to
find sustenance within them
i've always known i'd be a nurturer,
but i never thought i possessed the
nourishment people needed within
the fibers of my very being, that we
all possess just what we need, what the
world needs, it's already inside of us,
waiting for someone, or something,
to draw it out
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
She is the nature
She is the creator
She is the nurturer and the destroyer
consort of Shiva, complete source of power.
She is the breath,
She is the death
An eternal fire and internal desire
She is an infinite energy, in dark attire.
She is in Sudarshan ,
She is in Trishul
The intensity of black hole and awakened soul
Without her everything is powerless, even the hollowness.
She is in you,
She is in me
She is in trinity
She is the 'Shakti'.
Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 6:19 AM UTC
We circle around you in absolute awe
Adoring your every murmur
Loving you so completely, almost jealous
Wishing we could be so fresh.
I gather you in my hands, an infant saint
You embrace me with innocent reciprocation
Finding sleep easy in my trusted arms.
Not by genetics, but by love, I guard you
Playing mother for the needs you cannot speak.
Now is your beginning, the slow decline of your novelty.
More perfect now than you ever will be,
Rolling around softly in your untried possibilities
Smiling laughing at nothing, everything
You stare out at us whole hearted with wonder.
But one day, you will no longer need to be mothered.
You’ll stretch out your limbs to leave,
Learn the words to wish me goodbye.
We’ll ship you out, a predestined bundle of reeds
Out to float the river, and find a wife to replace me.
It stings to imagine you then, heavy with age.
I wish you would forsake tradition
And remain a tiny ornament of this family
An emblem of purity against the contemporary.
I know you will outgrow your nurturer
But someday I will be the one in need, helplessly tired
And then you will be to me, what I once was to you
The child will become the giver, the plant become the seed.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 2:43 AM UTC
I feel defeated,
face to the floor
I lay in dirt,
here I am, mother earth
Embrace me, nurturer
I've been hurt
My heart is heavy
My stomach is empty
My soul is starved and cursed
Toyed with my feelings
And carved out my eyes
I never saw this coming
Left here to die
And I wonder why
I wonder why
Could I have seen this coming,
Had I known you never loved me,
Would I have changed everything?
Probably not in the end.
If I could go back,
I would choose you,
Time and again.
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
Giver of life, bringer of joy
Soother of sorrow, restorer of faith
Great nurturer, healer, and fountain of hope
Unonscious morality, a wisdom unspoke
Center of pride, core of my being
Source of my strength, an angel unseen
Mama loves the ocean and she loves the sunrise
Sun rays in her hair, blue waves in her eyes
A Timeless beauty of infinite grace
An embodiment of love and engulfing embrace
That surrounds me with warmth and compassion and peace
Always at my side and in times of need
When trouble shakes that of this mortal soul
The whispering voice that calls my name home
May 12, 2011
May 12, 2011 at 1:42 PM UTC
Even nirvana must be empty.
Even silent revelation must allow herself to be taken, afterward,
by noise.
Kept, perhaps, might be a few
thoughts—the principles of salvation, maybe, easily incorporated
orts
soaked up, scooped with bread.
Chewed, passed—as everything, habitually—disintegrated into in-
visible
fuel for the festering divisions.
(Precisely those divisions sought to be stilled by breathing deeply,
crossing
the legs of, still, a body.) But
even nirvana must be swallowed by the Buddha’s gaping mouth
of transience.
For afterward, must it not stay,
still, the same? After achievement? Yes, I like to mock as I loll, in
naivety,
but I am also a talented nurturer
of it. I know behind is something quite valuable. A transient irony,
perhaps.
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 5:37 PM UTC
Sometimes I can’t imagine normal adult things happening to me
Like buying a house, a new car
Being a bride in a wedding.
Getting a “big girl career” beyond retail.
Wanting kids.
Because I haven’t had normal things happen to me.
I was robbed of many things,
A childhood,
Development.
Love.
And a lot of the time I forget I’m 26,
Wearing a made up, misplaced childhood,
Still locked into teen age.
It’s not a resurrection of the dead.
It’s a reimagined gift to myself.
I am my own body guard, protector, nurturer.
I am allowed a childhood.
And I am allowed to have adult things happen to me.
I’m 26.
Sep 21, 2023
Sep 21, 2023 at 8:37 AM UTC
we all coexist within another.
father time, granting us a constant movement of life
a cloaked, bearded man with the power of an hourglass.
an endless cycle of highs and lows effecting the world
as above so below.
alas, without love, the earth would turn to dust
drawn together, since the beginning of eternity
father time founded mother earth.
intertwined out of chaos, a nurturer was born.
to create out of love,
trees alongside the sea
time never catching up to the speed of light
equality of the unknown, transpiring its purpose to live
granted, the universe aligns in peace
nirvana at its peak
solely, as an individiual
we seek the hidden purpose
beyond ones navigation of life
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 5:38 PM UTC
Into wind, I turn a blistered face
Life draining, at a fierce pace
Is their any, saving grace
Please, remove me, from this place
Soon, my existence will leave no trace
Hopes dreams whishes life, erase
Absence of cool, calm and collect
Heat, the nurturer of life and respect
Now, the taker of my life, perfect
Dry, lifeless sand
Emotionless, killer land
There, I had to stand
An ocean of fire, in all its flare
Heat waves rolling, without a care
Drowning, desert sands so bare
Exciting, enraging, stimulating fever
All this excitement, in my stare
Fire lit, to warm the hart
Warm comfort, ease for start
Fire started, with desert chart
Life without love is like a barren desert but once the spark is lit love is like a raging fire.
Dec 24, 2009
Dec 24, 2009 at 11:46 PM UTC
I have entered the house of water six legions deep. Once a canopy of creativity held me. The crown I wore was a set of stars unseen. The fragmented emotions have crystallized upon the tabernacle of David's house.
I look deeply to see the snow capped mountains of attainment are behind me. I have placed the world at my feet as the ibis called to the water. The stars glisten with secrets held quietly waiting for man to explore. The wind blows and the bell tolls for those with supreme spinning joy which is the life of us all.
Deep from memory and heaven smiles across the miles from those who have gone before? I know the nurturer of me was the greatest gift received deep within the focused dreams.
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 4:05 AM UTC
Water, the origin of life
Nurturer of life
Sustainer of life
Taker of life
God, the origin of life
Nurturer of life
Sustainer of life
Taker of life
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 9:31 PM UTC