Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nipuni Ranaweera Apr 2021
A poem once came to me.
I was pouring water
On my infant’s fragile head.
I didn’t want to lose count
So, I let it slide, down and down
And it lay there, on the ground
Quite dead.

A poem once winked at me
Skulking beyond the shadowy shrubs
Where my child walks before being fed.
But because he must return, and
Not miss his customary turn-
I turned it into a lullaby
And wheeled it home to bed.
He made
shop mine
whoa the
bit on
his cob
have laggard
him as
their blitz
was hers
and their
juvenile must
throb wherein
nothing matters
these skewers
in prodigal
part of
our tell
a meaning forever
kk Jul 2018
There is something painfully wrong about
a mother’s cry.
In those seizing moments,
while her nose twitches
and her eyes bleed red
and she lets tears smear
jaggedly about her face-
there is something so unsettling,
so
out of place.
You perceived her once invulnerable,
but now you find
that behind her divinity are familiar fears
that overwhelm her omniscient mind.
When your own Goddess
can’t be free from corruption,
that even the holy
have weak heels and poisoned matrimonies;
that is
agonizing acrimony.
seeing my mother cry is one of the strangest and most upsetting things  I’ve ever seen
edit: adjusted enjambment
Liesl Jul 2018
I am here
Expelled at last from that warm darkness
Fluid replaced with air
Crying out so that the nurse knows,
So that the world knows,
That I have arrived.

I look up and see a Goddess
A true beauty with loose ringlets
And glimmering skin
But sacred tears are falling
From her golden eyes

A deity like her deserves jewels
I am just a tiny speck of dust
Floating around her palace
I am not what she asked for

I want to apologise
But all I can do is wail
I am sorry, dear Goddess

She looks down at me
And she smiles

And in that moment I’ve been blessed.
Kenna Marie Jul 2015
I heard you today,
Little heart beat
safe beneath.

How do some make a trash bag of a creature so innocently?

To suckle
and feed you off
so dangerously.

You fresh leaf,
“life long” responsibilities scares Them
so their priorities must recede

But you are no mess,
sweetie
Come hold onto me
You angel,
born from angry breaths

I’ll swaddle you
from Night and Day until it’s sunrise and sunset

Tuck a blanket under your baby face

I am Your Mother, whether DNA
may or may not say

I am Your Mother, with me you lay
#love   #sad   #sweet   #maternal
Jack Thompson Mar 2015
S-nuffed from life too early
Q-uiet almost a kick now
U-nborn beauty
I-solated and alone
S-o numb to you now
H-ate so deep and out of control
Y-ou're all I lived for

I'm sorry I wish I was there to protect you from it all. I wish we had known each other in another time. I wish I were your first love there would be less pieces to find. I wish the person I see now was the person I met. I wish you were even looking my way. Just to see your face once more. I used to see you without the pain, light and full of hope. You hid it well but it always seeped through the cracks. Maternal pain - not lost but taken. How I wish I could understand. How I wish that even mattered.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
Artistry Jul 2013
Translucent fingers. Miniature toes.
Tiny eyes that cannot see.
Tiny lips that open silently.

I feel you move
And now... I know.

I've never been more sure...
Life is the disease - you are the cure.

— The End —