"parenthood" poems
Masters of the Universe,
tender me thy resignation,
if but for
a day,
a millennia,
no matter how measured,
any being,
you, purported supreme
or otherwise,
are tired in ways
hard to comprehend
*tender me
thy responsibilities and dilemmas,
have studied your resignations,
solutions that provide no resolution...*
I can do better.
Why?
not obligated by parenthood,
rules of randomness superimposed,
all I got is human kindness
the eyesight that
colors kindness,
tolerates no injustice,
milky white light,
no longer recognize
"there for the grace of God
go you and I"
have no name,
but if you need one for me,
call me
<human>
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 8:01 AM UTC
Here I stood with ***** crystals beneath my feet and waited for the sky to turn golden.
Here I laughed into the echoing tunnel under my home as wet earth dripped on my skin.
Here I learned about parenthood among feathers and little eggs and ungodly morning crows.
Here I gloated about the manhood which sprouted from under my arms and in my mischievous thoughts.
Here I waited till dark to meet him in secret all the while dreading the sound of tires on gravel.
Here I buzzed with excitement as the boys had their lazy Sunday afternoon.
Here his freckles came close to mine as he softly said "you're so beautiful" with Bruno Mars playing in the background.
Here I said I would never grow up.
Here I comforted her with my pain because I had to be brave.
Here I forgot that being called "muddy children who act like savages " was considered an insult.
Here I cried into the stars for reasons I didn't understand.
Here I walked on hands and feet with happy little scratches and silent giggles.
Here only the sound of our beating hearts and delicate pride could be heard as I held him close.
Here I sang at the top of my favorite tree and waited for the words to hurt him as much as he hurt me.
Here the glow of a flashlight illuminated our tent as I asked her if she liked me like that.
Here a little piece of me was left sitting on a branch waiting to capture the next magical heart.
Here I wrote "I love you" on a mango leaf only to realize that he spelled love differently.
Here I sat beneath bright green trees and pondered my not-so-complicated life.
Here my words came out blurry and my stomach swayed like a sail boat out on a windy morning.
Here my hands went numb as I raced to the end of his life.
Here I visit through pictures and messy journals to remember the little things that are now so so big.
Here I left muddy footprints now covered with grass, but here they will stay.
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
Sticky fingers,
***** toes,
Smelly *****
Beads up their nose,
PRECIOUS
Snot stained blouse,
Sick stained shoulders,
Work gets harder,
As they get older,
WONDERFUL
Midnight screaming,
*** in your bed,
Barbie in your coffe ***
Poor goldfish overfed,
GOOD TIMES
Money problems,
Teenage tantrums,
Nose rings, blue hair,
Football anthems,
PARENTHOOD ROCKS!!!!
Aug 27, 2010
Aug 27, 2010 at 3:15 AM UTC
You’re not Pro-life, just Pro-Forced Birth
Despite proclaiming loudly
On signs accusing, ******
To one in three women, proudly
You’re not Pro-Life, but Anti-choice
And Anti-women, too
Shutting down Planned Parenthood is
A War on Women’s coup
Your Pro-Birth stance is but a sham
Backwards in time, you’re swimming
Saying Jesus is your Lamb while
Cutting aid for pregnant women
I saw you there, in Salem, too
Pointing, declaring them WITCHES
Burned alive by your testimony
Betraying and damning your SISTERS
My mother used to say self praise
Was not really praise at all
How can you say you’re Pro-Birthers
Causing WIC funding to fall?
The schools that once were funded
Providing breakfast for hungry kids
Was cut-yet congress spends like Spartans
Government sold to the highest bids
Sixty percent of our money
In good ole USA
Goes straight to the military
And I demand a say!
‘Health’ gets only five percent
And ‘Education’ six
Yet that’s where congress goes
To cut funding to the quick
You shut down Planned Parenthood with
Dishonest screams and shouts…
Support Accidental Parenthood-
Is that what you’re about?
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 2:41 PM UTC
Parenthood tells me
Eating ***** daily
Deliciously hard work!
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
first time my father overheard me listening to
this bit of music he asked me,
"what is it?"
"it's called Love For Three Oranges,"
I informed him.
"boy," he said, "that's getting it
cheap."
he meant ***
listening to it
I always imagined three oranges
sitting there,
you know how orange they can
get,
so mightily orange.
maybe Prokofiev had meant
what my father
thought.
if so, I preferred it the
other way
the most horrible thing
I could think of
was part of me being
what ********** out of the
end of his
stupid *****
I will never forgive him
for that,
his trick that I am stuck
with,
I find no nobility in
parenthood.
I say **** the Father
before he makes more
such as
I.
from ONTHEBUS - 1992
6k
eyes on my skin
hands on my hair
eyes on my words
hands on my thoughts
eyes on my home
hands on my rights
eyes on my fun
hands on my slog
eyes on my past
hands on my fate
eyes on my womb
hands on my kin
Oct 25, 2021
Oct 25, 2021 at 12:06 PM UTC
parenthood is the scariest thing, to me
the ability to love something to the point
that you know it better than it knows itself
seems nearly impossible and very easy to ruin
its chances for fulfilling its dreams
and guiding it through storms while it constantly pulls away
is the bravest of the loves, I think.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
To my lover
I don't think I could ever be a mother
Watching a child
That was not my child
Fall and hurt her head
I screamed
And panicked
Thinking she was dead
So I'm sorry
My lover
But that was terrifying
And I don't think I could ever be a mother
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 11:50 PM UTC
Oh, politicians and people in general.
Are an amazing lot to witness.
Especially with their opinions.
Some attack cause to be heard.
Others because of others words.
Bringing up remove this or that because a program is federally funded.
And if that should ever happen.
Planned Parenthood somehow will continue to be funded.
To many wealthy folks simply seek a reason to support.
Which is what all of us does?
This group will keep on striving.
Even if you disagree with their purpose.
For one to totally agree in life.
Only means, you doesn't address your own problems.
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 9:00 AM UTC
If you want to make a profit
(and the morality is grey)
Dehumanize the victim
and you'll be well on your way.
In a country that's divided,
and declining by the hour.
Your sins will be forgiven
by the Autocrats in power.
As, once upon a time,
in our then divided land
Slavery was acceptable
because a black was not a man.
Then black people were possessions
and very few were free.
They knew the lash, they knew the rod,
They knew not dignity.
Now fetuses are parasites-
not considered human beings
Abortion is big business
the cash cow of their dreams
Fifty million have been murdered
with no end on the horizon.
****** it appears, is acceptable
as long as it's not you dying.)
Someday you'll be old and gray-
and have an awful cough
Please don't be surprised or shocked
if they opt to write you off.
The weak and the disabled,
those feeble minded or not spry
can blame our liberality
when it comes their turn to die.
Eighty years its been since
Adolf ****** rose to power
Little children sang his praises too-
and darkness had it's hour.
Note:Nazi eugenics were **** Germany's racially based social policies that placed the improvement of the Aryan race through eugenics at the center of Nazis ideology. Those humans were targeted who were identified as "life unworthy of life" (German: Lebensunwertes Leben), including but not limited to the criminal, degenerate, dissident, feeble-minded, homosexual, idle, insane, and the weak, for elimination from the chain of heredity. More than 400,000 people were sterilized against their will, while 70,000 were killed under Action T4, a "euthanasia" program.[1][2]
(They will call it choice until the choice is there's alone)
Funny but many will call me a reactionary racist for my position against abortion but there have been millions of black Americans aborted, just as planned parenthood's founder intended.I would not make all abortions illegal as I believe that I shouldn't legislate morality. I think they should be rare, legal and safe.
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
I don’t have faith.
I just know that I belong to my Savior Jesus. I met her once when I was 11, at her humble single wide in a cramped trailer park and she made candied walnuts on a hotplate. I didn’t find out until years later that she paid for my scholarship. She had passed on by then; I wish I could have thanked her.
He arrived at Juvenile Hall at 7:00 pm looking like Mrs. Santa Claus, to take me into her home for a year. I made some sarcastic teenage comment about the stupid country music on her car radio, and she tolerated it with a smile; saying ‘its not stupid, its simple.’ She showed me what a caring family looks like and didn’t kick me out for being a ******** gave me chores and a curfew to show me I belonged.
When I had no family or boyfriend in my life, I lived in a maternity home until my baby would be adopted. Jesus was the stranger in the hushed hospital room holding my hand, after the medics couldn’t find the heartbeat in the ambulance, which was confirmed on the maternity floor, and I was taken to another floor so my crying wouldn’t upset the other mothers. The room was small and dark and alone, and the clock on the wall took an eternity to move two minutes, for the entire night that I was in labor, the longest night in my life. I didn’t remember someone holding my hand; I was so drugged for pain. She showed me her arms two days later, so bruised because she didn’t leave me.
Jesus was the woman from Planned Parenthood on the other end of the phone, listening to me when I called the Women’s Clinic asking how I could find a doctor. ‘ I just moved here, and I work at a minimum wage job, and I lost my baby a month ago, but how do I get a post-partum exam when I don’t have a doctor, or any money, or insurance?’ I was very matter of fact about it, I mean this was my circumstance and what to do? She arranged a birth control exam because the state would pay for that, by a doctor who would give me the post-partum. She also referred me to a support group. I had been alone but she found me people who understood and could sympathize and help me accept grief. I look back on that now; there were no sign-carrying Christians or Churches arranging the adoption who helped me, she was the only one who cared.
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 2:36 AM UTC
Don't call me your baby cakes
Don't tell me I look Great
Don't tell me that I'm the only one for you
When it's only semi straightforward,
like your pants since the day we met
Don't tell me my *** looks tight to get out of a fight
Don't tell me not to finish a whole box of a wine in one night
I feel the need to sit and binge watch parenthood and do the ugly cry
Don't trust me because I only partially trust you
Don't scream when I request blunt alibies
Don't suggest you're done with my bull ****
Baby cakes you're mine until the ******* end
I really want you to know
I love you
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 12:19 PM UTC
one must say, "I'm set"
for the noblest human role
of bearing a child
it is not just a fruit of
those nights we lack conviction
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 2:24 AM UTC
I see your kids
running around the table
screaming
and crying
existing on some
hyperactive wavelength that
exhausted adults have
waived from their capacity.
You sat there
making an art out of tuning
them out.
Quite impressive really.
Not so much could be said
for everyone else in the room though;
the rolled eyes
or deep, hollow groans
cursing your parenting skills.
The hell with them anyway.
You sit and enjoy your tortellini
and your fifth glass of wine
no frown or smile just
the blankest face
I've ever seen in my life.
Blank as,
not so much a canvas,
for a canvas was built for
the intention of being
transformed by color.
But you,
your face is the white slate
face of an unclimbable
mountain. It is
the forgotten
empty
dusty
journal of your parents,
stuffed in an attic.
Your face doesn't ask
for pity
or ridicule,
it only asks to uphold
it's sanity amidst
all the struggles
this life has to offer.
You'll get through though,
and so will they,
Sometimes it is at
the very bottom
where people discover
their greatest strengths.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 11:11 AM UTC
live hard,
care free on
the open lanes
just to get a
break
from it all.
besides,
how am i supposed to
have any fun
cooped up
like a house cat?
this place is different,
just enough light and
not too sticky but
the hops taste like
stale lollipops.
"call for a good time"
thanks, way ahead of ya.
two-dollar condoms?
what a way to make
an extra buck.
i'm back, sorry
wasn't expecting
to stay so long.
i'm parked out front,
what's your favorite
breakfast food?
Mom warned me not to
trust these dogs,
should've used
my last eight quarters.
May 25, 2021
May 25, 2021 at 12:50 AM UTC
I don't know.
I don't know,
what it feels like to love as a parent,
because my experience is limited by my experiences.
I haven't had the chance to experience parenthood,
however existence is shared by all existing things,
and whenever I observe the existence of parenthood,
Many things are shared with me.
Good and Bad.
It is here I begin to understand what a child is to a parent.
A child is like the sun,
to its parents sea.
The brighter a child shines,
the deeper its rays penetrate,
the layers of the sea.
And you may wonder,
How does the sun get to shine bright?
The sun gets to shine bright,
Through the love, understanding and acceptance of the sea.
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 3:10 PM UTC
Nobody knows how it feels.
How living in fear feels.
Not knowing my next seizure.
How, where and when?
Public or private zone?
I fear the cruelty of epilepsy.
The devil you know better's than an angel you don’t?
I bet to differ.
This inevitable monster cohabite since childhood.
Anxiety haunts me even in parenthood.
Nobody knows why and how it feels except God.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 6:40 PM UTC
Parenthood.
My intimate incubator, for the forthcoming foetus;
Are you too, truly feeling this dream?
I’ll become a father and you a mom.
It’s really going to happen soon.
So let’s both cut down on the drinking and stop the drugs.
Find a new way of life and overcome,
Our addictions to the illusions.
This could be a whole new beginning.
Girls just want to have fun, but I have found a woman.
I have someone who wants the commitment
And feels truly safe in,
The knowledge I’m here for her, ‘til death do us part.
This woman is the only one, allowed to get near my heart.
Once upon a time, we were so young and carefree;
She loved to feel the breeze, between her knees.
The passionate rush she got, from ******** a stranger,
Has now passed thankfully; she has no need for another,
Because I am her only lover
And she’s my baby’s mother.
But I can still remember when we first met.
I asked how far are you willing to take this?
What can I not do and is the list only short?
What’s the magic word that says you’ve had too much?
What is the cutoff point?
And do you like to take risks?
We made passionate love, morning, noon and night;
Now we still make passionate love,
But have more than adolescent desire.
We have an understanding, of each other’s bodies;
We have the knowledge, to leave each other satisfied.
For we’ve both been there, for each other,
When we were suffering insufferable pain.
We had both reached the stage in our lives,
When we believed, we would never love again.
We both believed, we couldn’t be happy.
We both had the same desire; to one day have a family.
It was hard for us, to be truly open
And to truly love again after our hearts had been broken.
But we shall overcome, the hurt and the pain;
To rise up each morning, ready to face a new day.
For now we are parents, our world has changed;
Now our love can be shared, with our offspring,
Until the end of our days.
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Jul 7, 2018
Jul 7, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
A barren field, now I sit wasted.
Had my time, but it's passed.
The children have grown.
Boom, bang blast.
Breaking out as flowers bloom.
Forget me nots, they are not.
As in my barren field I sit.
Unforgiven.
Proliferating as an incendiary device.
A starter of fires deep in my heart.
Filled up my mother of wombs.
Once they burned out of control.
Curse my heart and my soul.
For me, myself, I die insolvent.
Wailing in maladies of loves lost attachments.
Why may this be, I hear thee say.
I disregarded them, I wanted to play.
The heart of the matter.
Who mattered was me!
(C) Livvi
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 7:45 AM UTC
so you call yourself pro-life
okay, I guess I can pretend to respect that
which then means that you must also
respect the fact that I am very loudly pro-choice
and thanks to science
I know that a bundle of cells
and a living child are not the same thing
because an actual fetus is not fully formed
until the third trimester
and by fully formed I mean that it is
for all intents and purpose alive
but before that
there is nothing but a group of cells
there is no brain
no heart
not even pearly pink fingernails
so now what, huh?
you’re probably going to keep protesting
Planned Parenthood and harassing the people
that work there, right?
because all that Planned Parenthood does
is condone the vicious and inhumane ******
of defenseless, unborn children, right?
right?
either way, you don’t care about the child
once they’re born
all that you care about is making a woman
and other individuals who have a ******
carry this thing that is literally feeding off of them
and why should a child be brought into this world
if the circumstances through which it was
conceived are non-consensual?
because, if you really did care
if you really were “pro-life”
then you would care about the child
after it is born
or better yet
you could turn your attention and time and money
and anger to all the millions of orphans living
in the US
ya know, the living children?
with no homes?
with no parents?
packed like sardines in orphanages?
what about them?
do they not matter because they are not a group
of cells, and therefore not defenseless?
and therefore they do not matter?
because,
if you only care about that bundle of cells
and because some states actually make women
and those with uteruses
have funerals for the aborted “child”
then by default whenever a man
masturbates and then **********
shouldn’t he be made to have a separate
funeral for each of the thousands of children
that he just killed?
because one of them could have cured cancer, ******
and tell me
when I was still menstruating
should I have said “amen”
over all the potential children that bled out
of my body and into the pad
and the sides of my boxers?
should I have
said “grace” over all the
little pad mummies that I threw away?
should I have cried when I flushed
the ****** toilet paper?
because,
since I have a ******
how dare I want and feel as if I should
be owed control over my own body, right?
how dare I believe that
each and every woman
biological and otherwise
have a say in what they do with their body
how dare I be pro-choice, right?
well, let me knock you down
a few pegs with this closing statement:
if you only care about the “child” when it is
just a group of cells that doesn’t feel a **** thing
and couldn’t care less about it
once it is born
and homeless
or an orphan
or queer
then you are not “pro-life”
what you are
is an *******
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 10:12 PM UTC
there is no privacy anymore
tinker with your settings,
imaginary dragons, but to no true avail,
your scathing privacy has since sailed,
only to return for another sinking
what you forgot,
is very well remembered
in a some very overlooked place
see me in my summer camp class photo,
blonde crew cut and goofiest of grins,
find my poems of eons ago,
in living tricolor,
to my now better understood
"eternal" embarrassment,
they writ on, vainly looking
for a way to enjoy a
natural unnatural aging,
a wordlessly, self-destructing death
on a someday,
though the probability is that
someone's gigabytes
will cloud store them forevermore
because accumulation is
cheap and easy and
whatever
everything you need but didn't want,
the tangled webs, births and deaths,
multiple divorces and successes,
ancestors, progenitors,
children who no longer acknowledge
parenthood,
the detritus of lives writ even larger than the
original reality life show
confrontation tween my suppression
of long term memories that
are dangling participles,
going gone being been,
confusion resultant in
the tenses of existence,
I was therefore I still must be
but no longer
the me
I pretended to be
*there is no privacy anymore,
especially,
not even from thine own
prying eyes and faulty memories...*
when they ask what is my name,
to better trace my leavings,
I will
like Jehovah to Moses respond,
I Am that I Am
(אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה, ehyeh ašer ehyeh)
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
buzz, ****
doit, mute
hustle first
then bustle
screamin' chops
tired lips
crimson ties
broken blues
closed circles
open arms
wag the dog
book the gig
call the cab
hit the beat
play the set
chew the fat
sell the axe
make the rent
let the next
be the last
Aug 9, 2021
Aug 9, 2021 at 7:20 AM UTC
can't sleep,
early to rise
and search the
classifieds.
one more movie
should do the trick.
or maybe finish
that next game level?
i'll shower after
i get back from
the station,
long walk since
the tire popped.
first things first,
smoke break.
meet us around back
in buddy's tinted van,
you know
where nobody goes.
8 or 9 months is
plenty of time
to shape up.
gotta get it all in
before there's no more room
for my needs.
Dec 14, 2020
Dec 14, 2020 at 2:21 AM UTC