I Shall Dote Myself
I SHALL DOTE MYSELF
I was inspired to write "I Shall Dote Myself" Mother's Day, after noticing I had not received one card from my four (4) children! I thought, perhaps they cannot -after so many Mother's Days-find the words to express their sentiments. Her, my children, I shall dote myself:
I am a widow, mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, a sister, a partner and friend-
just an ordinary woman who can do extraordinary things.
I know how to lead, and
I can follow
I am naive:
shun sophistication in styles and techniques
I am ingenious:
clever, original, and effective.
I am sensitive, but
can be thick-skinned
I am a pragmatic, yet
I have fancies:
Impulsiveness, desirous-sometimes unfounded.
I'd rather truthful pains than comforting lies
I try not to judge, for
I too may be judged
I like goodness,
I dislike wickedness…
I see me in both.
I witness justice and experience its prejudice
I practice tolerance, and
I disavow unpermissiveness
I see love as a present and
give it wholeheartedly
I, myself, believe:
love, loyalty, and honor to be precursors…
to gently tapping the souls of humanity
to bring out the best
of humankind…what I believe
can be a cure for the worst conditions.
-Almedia S. Knight -ASK (May 2007)
(Later, that day, I received calls from my children, and their cards were received the following day!)
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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Related quotes
Mother Is Dying: Part 2 (Filicide)
Mother is infuriated
Mother is irritated
Mother is agitated
Mother is aggravated
Tormented by Her children
Sickened by Her children
Scarred by Her children
She is beginning to die
Mother was gentle
Mother was accepting
Mother was enduring
Though mother is now corrupted,
Similar to Her children
Her anger boils from her very core
Swirling vortexes of hatred dominate the skies
Her loathe floods Her children’s lives
The incarnate of Her disgust with Her children
Is devastating and cataclysmic
Her children can no longer find
Sanctuary from mother’s mercy
Mother is too enraged to rationalize
Mother will create The Rapture.
Mother will cause The Apocalypse.
Mother will eliminate humanity.
Mother will commit filicide.
poem by Alex Gomez
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Mother world
World become so small and tiny
It looses its charm and entity
When woman attains motherhood
She has no appetite for self or food
Whole world, as if, has come to her lap
She remains unconcerned even if danger taps
Let snake pass near by but she is totally unaware
She has her own world to look after and take care
All great souls have used mother as sacred refuge
So the mother is called divine and status very much huge
"if I have to avail another chance" mother's womb will be preference
To remain in her womb for nine months will be great memory with presence
When God is remembered so is the mother along with same
All religious books are full of praises from where he came
For time being her love might have been shifted
Yet mother is symbol of affection and love as it is gifted
Why children love her more than father?
She is combination of both father and mother
At given point of time, you may desert sometimes
But mother in any woman never think of it any times
She is living god and exact replica of holy shrine
Kindness and love is the treasure of any feminine
Mother is mother and stands for courage altogether
She is embodiment and so is celled "mother
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Mother
Every criminal has a Mother!
And this Mother goes to the *Supreme Court
And begs for his Son!
Then the Magistrate tells her;
'I am sorry Mother, your son has killed another son.'
Then Mom says; 'In Your honourable Court every criminal hangs? '
'That depends on the Witness.' The Judge said politely.
'O.K. Sir, You hang me and send my son home because he wants to be a Judge one day! '
You see, only a Mother can sing that sad song!
[*This special Supreme Court even the Magistrates could practice.]
* To Maxim Gorky for his superb novel 'Mother'.
Quoted from 'get on the bus' (Uniting children with their mothers and fathers in prison.) 'I noticed things about my mother: She was pretty and she looked like me.I found something in common with all the children on the bus.They have a Mother in prison too. -a little girl-
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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In The Footprints of My Mother
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall step to you.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall stay innocent and true.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall not give up hope.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall give you my love note.
In the footprints of my mother,
Lead me to a better path.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall releive in her wrath.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall cure all of your pains.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall bring you great reigns.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall unleash the angels of truth.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall defeat the evils booth.
The footprints of my mother,
led me straight to you.
The footprints of my mother,
Shown me I have nothing left to loose.
The footprints of my mother,
Guieded me towards the compelling lights.
The footprints of my mother,
Guided me towards the love of my life.
poem by Erin Grantham
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To My Best Mother
To my best mother,
You and my great father
Take good care of your children.
In good and bad times, you're there.
To my best mother in the world,
You've shown your genuine love
When I was still in your womb.
From newborn, I knew I was secured.
Thank you for being my mother.
You're my best friend and my mentor.
I love you, though sometimes, I forget you.
My mother, I'll always remember you.
I'll remember your noble teachings.
I'll love my brother and sister.
I'll value my family, relatives, and friends.
I'll seek guidance to God forever.
To my best mother,
My beloved mother in the world,
Please forgive us for our mistakes.
We your children love you always.
poem by Alon Calinao Dy
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Our Captain's Last Words
Where the foremost flag was flying,
Pierce'd by manny a shot and shell,
Where the bravest men were dying,
There our gallant captain fell.
"Boys! you follow now another;
Follow till the foe shall yield;"
Then he whisper'd, "Tell my mother
Stephen died upon the field."
"Mother!"
"Moth er!"
"Stephen died upon the field."
Through the battle they bore him,
But his words were growing wild;
Heeding not the scenes before him,
Stephen was once more a child.
"Ah, she comes! there is no other
Speaks my name with such a joy;
Press me to your bosom, mother,
Call my still your darling joy."
"Mother!"
"Mother !"
"Call my still your darling joy."
Men who were not used to weeping,
Turn'd aside to hide a tear,
When they saw the pallor creeping,
That assured them death was near.
Kindly as he were a brother,
Strangers caught his parting breath,
Laden with the mumur "mother"
Last upon his lips in death.
"Mother!"
"Mother!&qu ot;
Last upon his lips in death.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Play Children Play
I came home late one night,
In my door stood my daughter-in-law,
Park your car, I have something to tell you,
As I entered the door, she said, "Mother left today."
Play children play, your mother left today.
There is no where for a writer to start,
When his wife leaves and breaks her children's heart,
When she walked out, she never said good by,
No one has ever known why.
Play children play, today your Mother went away.
Many things we planned to do that day,
For no reason she just walked away,
Twenty years has past and gone,
Some how we took care of our home,
You children have married, but still alone.
Play children play, for the day your Mother went away.
poem by Kenneth McKinley Davis
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They stuck by the children.
His mother and his father's mother
Had not been in talking term for life.
Yet they had no enmity between them.
His mother let her love them, six children,
Which should have softened his grandmother.
Her care for them must have pleased his mother.
They never sat near nor scolded each other.
Yet they could not be in enmity
For both wanted the welfare of the children.
It was she who nursed her in her death bed.
Her own sisters, nephews and nieces fled
As the birds did when the tree turned fruitless.
She felt her guilt and confessed it to her
Who, as blessed, had had a good death later.
13.11.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Yamson
Yamson,
What can you say about the missing chief?
And like receiving and being received;
For the sun is taking a nap after a hard day's job.
To be weaned as a human being and,
To learn many tricks in this life;
But i was fed on my mother's milk.
Yamson,
The love of the mother is forever!
And from birth to the first tender of love and care;
But the Sabbath of rest is for the land and,
Try to correct your children to give you rest.
There is more between the legs than they actually shows,
So do not go back into a tail's spin!
For the truth will always find a way,
And i will be the one to lead you on.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A mother becomes a true grandmother the day she stops noticing the terrible things her children do because she is so enchanted with the wonderful things her grandchildren do.
Honour to Women
The woman is my mother,
She is the wife of my father.
The woman is my wife,
She is also the mother of my children.
I love my mother,
My children love their mother, too;
So, I respect my beloved wife.
Every woman with the veil of Mother is honoured by all,
Heaven lying at the feet of mother, every woman moves proudly.
poem by Supanul Islam Supan
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A Pile Of Memories
I just found
A pile of memories
From when my mother
And Father
Passed away
Cards of condolences
All piled up with love
Each card a statement
Of what great
Parents they were
Her beauty
Her courage
Her unconditional love
She lead communities with
Determination and love
She made things possible
For children in need
And she gave her all
To her children tenfold
And guided us with love
What a wonderful soul
I cant let this pass
without mentioning my dad
without one or the other
This poems uncomplete
My dad was the same
And impossible rouge
Handsome and smart
Such a loving soul
But like all men
He had secrets
From the past
Those made him drink
His troubles away
Despite all that
We loved him still
So did my mother
What a wonderful soul
poem by Kaila George
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The Opening of the Piano
IN the little southern parlor of tbe house you may have seen
With the gambrel-roof, and the gable looking westward to the green,
At the side toward the sunset, with the window on its right,
Stood the London-made piano I am dreaming of to-night!
Ah me! how I remember the evening when it came!
What a cry of eager voices, what a group of cheeks in flame,
When the wondrous box was opened that had come from over seas,
With its smell of mastic-varnish and its flash of ivory keys!
Then the children all grew fretful in the restlessness of joy,
For the boy would push his sister, and the sister crowd the boy,
Till the father asked for quiet in his grave paternal way,
But the mother hushed the tumult with the words, "Now, Mary, play."
For the dear soul knew that music was a very sovereign balm;
She had sprinkled it over Sorrow and seen its brow grow calm,
In the days of slender harpsichords with tapping tinkling quills,
Or carolling to her spinet with its thin metallic thrills.
So Mary, the household minstrel, who always loved to please,
Sat down to the new "Clementi," and struck the glittering keys.
Hushed were the children's voices, and every eye grew dim,
As, floating from lip and finger, arose the "Vesper Hymn."
Catharine, child of a neighbor, curly and rosy-red,
(Wedded since, and a widow,-- something like ten years dead,)
Hearing a gush of music such as none before,
Steals from her mother's chamber and peeps at the open door.
Just as the "Jubilate" in threaded whisper dies,
"Open it! open it, lady!" the little maiden cries,
(For she thought 't was a singing creature caged in a box she heard,)
"Open it! open it, lady! and let me see the bird!"
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Like No Other...Mother
Mother...
Mother, who gave us her heart...her very soul.
Mother, who's understanding never wavered.
Mother, the one who dried our tears.
Mother, she lead us to the path of His Love.
Mother, who washed our cloths and cleaned the house.
Mother, who instilled confidence in her children.
Mother, who walked us to school.
Mother, who loved us like no other.
Mother, who quelled the anger within us.
Mother, who drove us to all our practices.
Mother, who never forgot our special occasions.
Mother, who protected her family, as a lion to a cub.
Mother, who always supported our father.
Mother, who scrimped and saved for our daily needs.
Mother, who was always the last to eat.
Mother, who was always the first to rise.
Mother, who cared for the animals.
Mother, a love that knew no limits.
Mother, who forever placed her family, before herself.
Mother, who was grateful, for every passing acknowledgement.
Mother, whose eyes shined, when she heard the words,
I love you mom.
Mother, who always saw the good in us.
Mother, who always taught us to never, never, give up.
Mother, who instilled in us, to be better.
Mother, who made us believe, we could accomplish anything.
Mother, mother...mother, you were like no other.
Mother, you will always remain, in our
hearts, in our deeds, in our thoughts,
in our lives and in our prayers.
Surely, beyond the stars, there's a special place for Mothers.
The Little Big Man
I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am
as old as my father is.
My teacher will come and say, "It is late, bring your slate
and your books."
I shall tell him, " Do you not know I am as big as father? And
I must not have lessons any more."
My master will wonder and say, "He can leave his books if he
likes, for he is grown up."
I shall dress myself and walk to the fair where the crowd is
thick.
My uncle will come rushing up to me and say, "You will get
lost, my boy; let me carry you."
I shall answer, "Can't you see, uncle, I am as big as father?
I must go to the fair alone."
Uncle will say, "Yes, he can go wherever he likes, for he is
grown up."
Mother will come from her bath when I am giving money to my
nurse, for I shall know how to open the box with my key.
Mother will say, "What are you about, naughty child?"
I shall tell her, "Mother, don't you know, I am as big as
father, and I must give silver to my nurse."
Mother will say to herself, "He can give money to whom he
likes, for he is grown up."
In the holiday time in October father will come home and,
thinking that I am still a baby, will bring for me from the town
little shoes and small silken frocks.
I shall say, "Father, give them to my data, for I am as big
as you are."
Father will think and say, "He can buy his own clothes if he
likes, for he is grown up."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Mother...
Mother, who gave us her heart...her very soul.
Mother, who's understanding never wavered.
Mother, the one who dried our tears.
Mother, she lead us to the path of His Love.
Mother, who washed our cloths and cleaned the house.
Mother, who instilled confidence in her children.
Mother, who walked us to school.
Mother, who loved us like no other.
Mother, who quelled the anger within us.
Mother, who drove us to all our practices.
Mother, who never forgot our special occasions.
Mother, who protected her family, as a lion to a cub.
Mother, who always supported our father.
Mother, who scrimped and saved for our daily needs.
Mother, who was always the last to eat.
Mother, who was always the first to rise.
Mother, who cared for the animals.
Mother, a love that knew no limits.
Mother, who forever placed her family, before herself.
Mother, who was grateful, for every passing acknowledgement.
Mother, whose eyes shined, when she heard the words,
I love you mom.
Mother, who always saw the good in us.
Mother, who always taught us to never, never, give up.
Mother, who instilled in us, to be better.
Mother, who made us believe, we could accomplish anything.
Mother, mother...mother, you were like no other.
Mother, you will always remain, in our
hearts, in our deeds, in our thoughts,
in our lives and in our prayers.
Surely, beyond the stars, there's a special place for Mothers.
Mother...This ones' For You...
Mother, who gave us her heart...her very soul.
Mother, who's understanding never wavered.
Mother, the one who dried our tears.
Mother, she lead us to the path of His Love.
Mother, who washed our cloths and cleaned the house.
Mother, who instilled confidence in her children.
Mother, who walked us to school.
Mother, who loved us like no other.
Mother, who quelled the anger within us.
Mother, who drove us to all our practices.
Mother, who never forgot our special occasions.
Mother, who protected her family, as a lion to a cub.
Mother, who always supported our father.
Mother, who scrimped and saved for our daily needs.
Mother, who was always the last to eat.
Mother, who was always the first to rise.
Mother, who cared for the animals.
Mother, a love that knew no limits.
Mother, who forever placed her family, before herself.
Mother, who was grateful, for every passing acknowledgement.
Mother, whose eyes shined, when she heard the words,
I love you mom.
Mother, who always saw the good in us.
Mother, who always taught us to never, never, give up.
Mother, who instilled in us, to be better.
Mother, who made us believe, we could accomplish anything.
Mother, mother...mother, you were like no other.
Mother, you will always remain, in our
hearts, in our deeds, in our thoughts,
in our lives and in our prayers.
Surely, beyond the stars, there's a special place for Mothers.
Mother
My heart sometimes cries
As it always feels so lonely
Although, I really wish that I could feel love of my mother
Hardly ever, my sweet mother was able to embrace me
Only after Eight months of my birth, she died
Died by jumping in a well and it took her life, at the very next moment
When people realized about her being dead, she was no more
Then as I grew up I always have missed someone who would care unconditionally about me
Unconditional love and care is received through a mother
However, I lost my mother at an very early age
Life, she took of herself
I guess she was really depressed and had no strength to fight her fears
It is sad, since she was my mother and I really always miss her love and care
Without a mother, I always feel so empty
Whenever I witness a mother taking care of her child
It only reminds me of her, again and again
I miss her and I wish she would have loved me if she was present
Mother, why did you leave me?
poem by Rohit Sapra
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A Mother's Collection: Tissues, Bones, And Blood (fourth)
Fourth Born
While they were carefully restoring
The damaged done to the sacred house
I heard a whisper in my ear,
“Mother you have a baby girl.”
I had thought I would have another
boy and would call him “Lanzy- granddaddy’s name”
Like my first born, I asked myself, what to do with
This little pink bundle of joy?
Oh my, a girl! Your dad jumped for joy for
the little girl born of my tears, tears, and pains.
Now a quarter century later- right before my eyes-
You’ve become a beautiful daughter, wife, mother, and sister.
Your passion to be and to do your best is evident in all of this.
A mother learns much from her daughter:
To be a good listener,
An astute debater who gets in the last word.
To be caring and compassionate.
Be her mother instead of her girl friend…
Our reign as females are evident in all of these.
Now allow me to present my gift to you…
Oh, how I wish to give you diamonds and sapphires;
Rubies and emeralds!
Sorry darling, those things I have not.
But this I have a whole lot: “my eternal, unconditional love”
April 12,2006
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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My Friend's Husband
Is a Republican in the worst sense
Of the word; but she remains a
Diligent Independent to give both
Of their sons, 'both' sides of the
Common sense thought process of
Their mother and the ‘they-say'
Mindless nonsense of the dad.
My friend's husband is focused
On 'losing' without a thought of
Winning, to the good of all who are
Concerned; "One Nation, under God,
With liberty and justice for all."
Now, my friend's husband's heart
'Gets it', and always has, but his
Dumb-Ass, misguided loyalties have
Kidnapped his brain, and his mouth
Always belies it's heart-felt core,
That gets drown in ‘one more beer'.
In other words, my friend's husband
Is another 'good' father and spouse
Who would rather be led than lead.
I can write a poem that illuminates,
And my friend's husband can read.
We both need to vote what our heart
Tells us to - truthfully.
No, concentrate on the "to the good
Of ALL concerned, " line, not the
"Dumb-Ass" part.
2012
Jim Boone, US Poet Laureate nominee