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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=564285" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Mother....</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am nothing, nothing, <br>And the bloom is broken.....<br>She has forgotten to check the locks, <br>And the monster is loose....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am no more, <br>As he takes her with his will....<br>I am no more, <br>As my mother told me<br>The publisher was a lie, <br>An easy meal for the tiger, <br>The fanged stranger jumping on the shore....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Maybe it would be easier as a homosexual, <br>And more translucent as a nun; <br>The trouble-free men take her in the space<br>Of commercials, <br>Taste her like an effortless meal....</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>But I love her, mother, <br>And I am the only one, <br>Though don’t tell father, <br>Or he’ll eat me, the flatulent bear....<br>He’ll eat me, and then eat another....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There are strange men doing her as<br>They are able, <br>The dime-store strangers with perfect teeth...., <br>But they will soon decay, mother, <br>Their tomb-stones facing east....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Even after death has eaten me, mother, <br>Even after it has cleaned my face, <br>I will still love upon her, mother, <br>The hiccupping possibilities<br>In her womb....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will still love her mother, <br>Even as you come out of the still<br>Young door, mother, <br>And harp up to the blooming storm...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Can you taste the hyathines, <br>Blooming in red on the front corner of the rented lawn; <br>They are a part of the unremembered, mother; <br>And already gone before the rented dawn, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I love her still, mother, <br>Even though I no longer recall who I am, <br>The airliner is taking off, mother, <br>And I have to go now <br>Unto her....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Erin, in that translucent storm: <br>My face is a hideous mask of Greek tragedy, mother: <br>But I love her this day, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the next....<br>Though that is all I am.....<br>That is all there is, <br>The supposition of the beautiful clairvoyant, <br>The breaking of the luxurious waves<br>Over to the exorbitant real-estate....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I cannot afford her, mother, <br>Where I am, <br>But I will write her again in these few words, <br>Before the finish line mother, <br>Where I have lost, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The triumphant men took her, <br>Mother, <br>And I don’t have time to recoil, mother, <br>Though, do you suppose, <br>She is looking at us strangely, mother? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">As if she might love us, <br>Together, for a little while....<br>Before un-relaxing Pentecost, mother....<br>She put us in the zoo, <br>For all the children to see, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I cannot recall her name, mother, <br>Though, unfortunately, mother....<br>She is standing beside the door, mother, <br>And I must let her in....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Before she knocks....</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Bret+R.+Crabrooke">Bret R. Crabrooke</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=564285" data-title="Mother.... de Bret R. Crabrooke" data-description="I am nothing, nothing, 
And the bloom is broken.....
She has forgotten to check the locks, 
And the monster is loose....

I am no more, 
As he takes her with his will....
I am no more, 
As my mother told me
The publisher was a lie, 
An easy meal f..."></div>
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