Hollie McNish -Embarrased
Tag Archives: mother
Jennifer Kent – Monster
Remains
Dull thudding rain,
wipers squealed on glass
red lights distorted,
music filled the space
using decibels
to shatter
the once and final
chance for closure,
mother lain to rest
no more
would be said
72 Panels
behind her shoji screen
where protected, felt assured to be naked
no unbidden glances
would spill from a mans eye
gathered in her own mind
and clothed touched the soft panels
each to represent a year of life,
the ones lived and ones to come
patches of existence on a written timeframe,
smiling she moved to the window
hillside and meadow
no sharp intrusions to the eye
looking back she wondered of the last panel
what ghosts lurked behind
for it was hidden
until the time was right,
a swarm of bees sounded outside
nectar and honey
as she expected love to be
but mother said not,
spoke of not having to worship a man,
his edges not so rounded
where often cruel as father was
to others but not her
not a favorite they just understood,
it did not matter of the last panel
for she knew how long she had
as sliding the door behind
walked out onto a busy street
d Oliver Goodrum / w Alexander Craig – This Is Vanity
burn the other way
stressed cotton gripped,
lithograph shapes move
incoherent blemishes
caught by tired eye,
already a haven
checked by those who love,
yet still cold
comes to linger as an
unwelcome friend,
that closet door moves
with slow intent,
tomorrow a long voyage away
and the captain is
losing the wheel,
wanting to send up flares
light kerosene lamps,
to see
bedroom ocean
hindered by furry forms
that sulk in masses,
stories stringed words
hung across the mind
cranial denial,
cotton scrapes
a loose floorboard resonates
without help
from human form,
as captain he needs a crew,
crew of rag and plastic
to his call they rally
corners become embattled
cotton pushed aside,
sails on pine vessel,
beneath the night
a warrior born
clouds of gods look down,
moon casts a charming glow,
a battle cry
loud inside a voice parents
can never here,
on deck face splashed
by waves of memory,
wheel in his grasp
volley and surge
crackled into the night
with electric interference,
lips once moist
with mothers milk
now bloodied call proud,
monsters fled
lines defiled and beaten
each rushing over the fallen,
he would not be wounded
he would not falter,
time a soft blanket
on which he tiredly fell
sleep devoured
and all this would be
a satisfying memory by morning,
but not the claw embedded
in bedroom wall
Bukowski For Kids
This is an exaggeration but children need poetry, it is as important as any other literature and they should be reading and writing from an early age, it is a platform for their own experiences and feelings.
So here we are….
Marvellous Breath
the foetus hired by
a different ideal,
had a bigger importance
than life,
created as a fancy
payment to democracy,
to pave a way
for laborers seeking
more than death,
with unblemished mind
like a cherry in the beak
of a thirsting bird,
words come on the
quiet wind,
mother feels you
wake and sleep
birth and dawn akin,
to be laid in a basket
of flowers,
bright eyes
changing wind
to laughter,
there would be
no more fallen
on foreign fields
leaves left on the surface
of a swift stream,
lips reach to the eclipse
there is other life
abide the balm that now
oils your body,
first voice the only voice
from subtle throat,
a silver link
for tender distances,
the soul will surmise
a transition,
surrender beauty
bring communal tranquility,
kiss mothers breast
milk not sunburnt wheat
tasted there,
all is complete
democracy feels
a quenchless spring
unlittered by irony
velvetmedia 