The Double Image
1.
I am thirty this November.
You are still small, in your fourth year.
We stand watching the yellow leaves go queer,
flapping in the winter rain.
falling flat and washed. And I remember
mostly the three autumns you did not live here.
They said I'd never get you back again.
I tell you what you'll never really know:
all the medical hypothesis
that explained my brain will never be as true as these
struck leaves letting go.
I, who chose two times
to kill myself, had said your nickname
the mewling mouths when you first came;
until a fever rattled
in your throat and I moved like a pantomine
above your head. Ugly angels spoke to me. The blame,
I heard them say, was mine. They tattled
like green witches in my head, letting doom
leak like a broken faucet;
as if doom had flooded my belly and filled your bassinet,
an old debt I must assume.
Death was simpler than I'd thought.
The day life made you well and whole
I let the witches take away my guilty soul.
I pretended I was dead
until the white men pumped the poison out,
putting me armless and washed through the rigamarole
of talking boxes and the electric bed.
I laughed to see the private iron in that hotel.
Today the yellow leaves
go queer. You ask me where they go I say today believed
in itself, or else it fell.
Today, my small child, Joyce,
love your self's self where it lives.
There is no special God to refer to; or if there is,
why did I let you grow
in another place. You did not know my voice
when I came back to call. All the superlatives
of tomorrow's white tree and mistletoe
will not help you know the holidays you had to miss.
The time I did not love
myself, I visited your shoveled walks; you held my glove.
There was new snow after this.
2.
They sent me letters with news
of you and I made moccasins that I would never use.
When I grew well enough to tolerate
myself, I lived with my mother, the witches said.
But I didn't leave. I had my portrait
done instead.
Part way back from Bedlam
I came to my mother's house in Gloucester,
Massachusetts. And this is how I came
to catch at her; and this is how I lost her.
I cannot forgive your suicide, my mother said.
And she never could. She had my portrait
done instead.
I lived like an angry guest,
like a partly mended thing, an outgrown child.
I remember my mother did her best.
She took me to Boston and had my hair restyled.
Your smile is like your mother's, the artist said.
I didn't seem to care. I had my portrait
done instead.
There was a church where I grew up
with its white cupboards where they locked us up,
row by row, like puritans or shipmates
singing together. My father passed the plate.
Too late to be forgiven now, the witches said.
I wasn't exactly forgiven. They had my portrait
done instead.
3.
All that summer sprinklers arched
over the seaside grass.
We talked of drought
while the salt-parched
field grew sweet again. To help time pass
I tried to mow the lawn
and in the morning I had my portrait done,
holding my smile in place, till it grew formal.
Once I mailed you a picture of a rabbit
and a postcard of Motif number one,
as if it were normal
to be a mother and be gone.
They hung my portrait in the chill
north light, matching
me to keep me well.
Only my mother grew ill.
She turned from me, as if death were catching,
as if death transferred,
as if my dying had eaten inside of her.
That August you were two, by I timed my days with doubt.
On the first of September she looked at me
and said I gave her cancer.
They carved her sweet hills out
and still I couldn't answer.
4.
That winter she came
part way back
from her sterile suite
of doctors, the seasick
cruise of the X-ray,
the cells' arithmetic
gone wild. Surgery incomplete,
the fat arm, the prognosis poor, I heard
them say.
During the sea blizzards
she had here
own portrait painted.
A cave of mirror
placed on the south wall;
matching smile, matching contour.
And you resembled me; unacquainted
with my face, you wore it. But you were mine
after all.
I wintered in Boston,
childless bride,
nothing sweet to spare
with witches at my side.
I missed your babyhood,
tried a second suicide,
tried the sealed hotel a second year.
On April Fool you fooled me. We laughed and this
was good.
5.
I checked out for the last time
on the first of May;
graduate of the mental cases,
with my analysts's okay,
my complete book of rhymes,
my typewriter and my suitcases.
All that summer I learned life
back into my own
seven rooms, visited the swan boats,
the market, answered the phone,
served cocktails as a wife
should, made love among my petticoats
and August tan. And you came each
weekend. But I lie.
You seldom came. I just pretended
you, small piglet, butterfly
girl with jelly bean cheeks,
disobedient three, my splendid
stranger. And I had to learn
why I would rather
die than love, how your innocence
would hurt and how I gather
guilt like a young intern
his symptons, his certain evidence.
That October day we went
to Gloucester the red hills
reminded me of the dry red fur fox
coat I played in as a child; stock still
like a bear or a tent,
like a great cave laughing or a red fur fox.
We drove past the hatchery,
the hut that sells bait,
past Pigeon Cove, past the Yacht Club, past Squall's
Hill, to the house that waits
still, on the top of the sea,
and two portraits hung on the opposite walls.
6.
In north light, my smile is held in place,
the shadow marks my bone.
What could I have been dreaming as I sat there,
all of me waiting in the eyes, the zone
of the smile, the young face,
the foxes' snare.
In south light, her smile is held in place,
her cheeks wilting like a dry
orchid; my mocking mirror, my overthrown
love, my first image. She eyes me from that face
that stony head of death
I had outgrown.
The artist caught us at the turning;
we smiled in our canvas home
before we chose our foreknown separate ways.
The dry redfur fox coat was made for burning.
I rot on the wall, my own
Dorian Gray.
And this was the cave of the mirror,
that double woman who stares
at herself, as if she were petrified
in time - two ladies sitting in umber chairs.
You kissed your grandmother
and she cried.
7.
I could not get you back
except for weekends. You came
each time, clutching the picture of a rabbit
that I had sent you. For the last time I unpack
your things. We touch from habit.
The first visit you asked my name.
Now you will stay for good. I will forget
how we bumped away from each other like marionettes
on strings. It wasn't the same
as love, letting weekends contain
us. You scrape your knee. You learn my name,
wobbling up the sidewalk, calling and crying.
You can call me mother and I remember my mother again,
somewhere in greater Boston, dying.
I remember we named you Joyce
so we could call you Joy.
You came like an awkward guest
that first time, all wrapped and moist
and strange at my heavy breast.
I needed you. I didn't want a boy,
only a girl, a small milky mouse
of a girl, already loved, already loud in the house
of herself. We named you Joy.
I, who was never quite sure
about being a girl, needed another
life, another image to remind me.
And this was my worst guilt; you could not cure
or soothe it. I made you to find me.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Painting From Memory
what could be more noble
than a son to paint a canvas
a portrait painted with years
of love heartfelt appreciation
a portrait of a beloved mother
lines of deep love appreciation
beauty bestowed upon mother
her face eternally young loving
you were extremely blessed
to have the love and discipline
of a wonderful caring mother
a mother among all mothers
radiant smile smiling as you smile
holding comforting ever loving
good fortune is having such a mother
a great blessing wonderful wise
a love like this is comfort blessing
during all the lived days of our life
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At The Time When Mother Left For Ozamis
i remember now
it was at that time when mother packed her clothes
and left my father for good
back in the little village where mother
was raised by grandmother
as a naive girl
keeping things to herself.
she dwells in a house of silence.
it was at that time when father said
that he loves her very much
that losing her would mean his death
but mother was no longer in the house
where we grew.
and of course, mother did not really believe him.
she died ahead of him, and he got drunk everyday, and
he put her picture on top of his chest and he cried all night long
staring at her face, black and white, her hair her mouth.
he died a year after and he was buried just beside her pantheon.
i still wonder if mother would believe him.
the silence is overwhelming. no one sweeps the heaps of leaves
and no wind is strong enough to clean the mounds filled with thick grass.
come summer time, i see white daisies blooming, and a black butterfly
hovers to stop a while. I watch closely this new turn of events.
it is like poetry. Some metaphors. Symbols, and hints. Love's mouth
wanting to say all over again, what the heart has constantly hidden.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Introducing... Me!
I am the woman who was the girl who thought she was alone.
The same girl that pretended to be the life of our group to stay on top.
The girl who was everyone's friend even though I did not like myself very much.
I was the girl who thought that love only came in one form.
So I used it to my advantage and ended up scorned.
I was the girl that found herself in trouble too deep to be fished out.
I was the girl who grew up too fast with no way out.
I had to grow, so that I might learn to be the mother I needed to be.
I was the girl who was a child-mother with only my own mother there for me.
The girl who was afraid to pout who had to be always brave.
The girl who felt as if I never got but only gave.
I was the girl who made all her own choices and stood up to take responsibility.
I was the girl who told the world how dare you judge her because of me.
Now I am the woman who, will fight the very devil for my childrens lives.
I fought him for two of my babies and won, my fourth in God's arms lay.
I am the woman who will stand up and shout for what I believe.
The woman who learned the hard way there is no reprieve.
I am the woman who finally learned how to love herself.
And in doing so found true love at last.
I am the woman who is the life of the party now.
The woman that has few real friends, but they matter more then they did then.
I am the woman who can cry and know it will be alright.
I am the woman who can say,
I am beautiful today.
If not for one woman who was there to help show me how.
I would not be the woman standing here now.
My Mother is the woman in me who I long to be.
My Mother is the woman I emmulate and hope my girls will come to be like.
She is stronger then Breast Cancer. Stronger then Divorce.
Stronger then all the trials I put her through.
If she were not here today what would I do?
poem by Lydie Mathers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rachel and You and The Day Trip
It was a day trip out
to some seaside place
arranged by the Gospel church
for kids whose parents
were poor
and having got on the coach
you sat in a seat
by the window
and waved at your mother
standing on the pavement
along Rockingham Street
and she waved back
then this girl sat beside you
who you didn't know
and she smiled and said
all right if I sit here?
sure
you said
and looked back out
at your mother
and waved again
and she waved back
and you thought
who is this girl?
and why is she
sitting next to me?
and she looked at out
the window
and waved to her mother
who started talking
to your mother
and they both waved back
to you and the girl
and you said
do you want to sit
by the window?
and she said
ok yes that'd be nice
and so she got out
and you got out
then she got in
and sat
by the window
and you sat
down beside her
and then the coach
started up
and drove off
and you both waved
at your mothers
until they were out of sight
and the girl turned
and said
I'm Rachel
this is my first time
to the seaside
and you said
you can walk around
with me if you want to
and she said
that'd be good
I don't know
anyone else here
and so she did
all day
walked around with you
along the beach
and on the sands
making sandcastles
and in the cafe
where they took you all
for a meal
of fish and chips
and she talked
and talked
and smiled
and laughed
and once she took
hold of your hand
and it seemed
for a while
that she was happy
at least it seemed so
by the width of her smile.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Reckoning
My mother was carried to heaven
On the day that I turned six,
She died of tuberculosis
Spitting blood in a coughing fit,
She'd been so ill for a long long time
That I couldn't recall her smile,
My father, he just grumbled, said:
'Your Ma will be gone for a while.'
'She's gone to sing in a choir up there,
Who knows how long she will be? '
But I saw the coffin that carried her out,
The hearse and the burial tree,
I watched as it sank down into the ground
And my father just left it there,
Went off to visit my 'aunt', he said,
A woman with long, blond hair.
I stayed at home, such a lonely child,
And went to a place in my head,
Where mother was fit and without a care
She laughed at the things I said,
My father left me alone a lot
So mother would tell me, 'Shush! '
We'd laugh and giggle when he went out
But talk in a sort of hush.
I played outside at other times
Where the grass grew long and wild,
I'd catch the skinks as they darted past,
I was always a curious child,
I'd bring the Sleepy Lizards home,
My father didn't mind,
He said I could keep the pets I caught,
I thought he was being kind.
But then one day he came on home
With this 'aunt', who moved right in,
He said they were married now, so I
Should call her 'Mum', not Jen.
I scowled, and went to my room to cry,
My mother was looking sad,
She said, 'just do what your father says,
I'm your Mother, but he's your Dad.'
This Jenny, she was all right at first
She tried to make me smile,
But I was feeling rebellious then,
And turned my back for a while,
I kept my rabbits and guinea pigs
And fed them out in their hutch,
But Jenny came out to look at them,
And she didn't like them much.
I knew, she wrinkled her powdered nose
And said, 'Oh pew! They stink!
We'll have to find you a hobby, one
That's pure and clean, I think.'
I heard her talking to father, say
That she thought I was rather slow,
She wanted the garden tidied up
So my animals had to go.
It was just about that time, I think
That my mother said goodbye,
She couldn't stay in that house, she said,
It was time for her to fly,
She left me alone in a great big world
So I brought a Lizard inside,
And put it under my bedclothes
Thought it a perfect place to hide.
When Jenny made the bed, she screamed
And shook me like a rag,
She went and got a kitchen knife
And a plastic shopping bag,
She made me put the Lizard in
Then she took the bag outside,
And stabbed and stabbed 'til the Lizard bled,
'Til my Lizard friend had died.
'Now bury it! ' she said to me,
'And don't you ever dare
Bring filthy animals into this house,
For if you do, I swear...'
At this she put the knife to my throat
And stood and watched me scream,
I saw the hate in her powdered face
It was like an awful dream!
Whenever my father left the house
She'd always scream and shout,
Knock me around for the slightest thing
Then drag me, throw me out,
Lock the door so I couldn't get in
And give me nothing to eat,
She said if I told my Dad on her
It would only get me beat.
She killed my rabbits, cooked them up
And served them from a pot,
She gave me a crooked, evil grin:
'You'd better eat the lot! '
I found myself in a black, black rage
Inside, at the things she'd done,
And hoped that my father would go on out
And buy himself a gun.
He never knew what she did to me,
I never would dare to say,
I knew that she'd get me on my own
And then there'd be hell to pay,
So I stayed outside in the barren fields
And found me a hessian sack,
Then went for a hunt with a long, forked stick,
It was time to get her back!
I waited until he'd gone away,
Was gone two days or more,
Then bit my tongue as she raved at me,
Spat hate from the kitchen door,
The morning came, and there wasn't a sound
To come from that angry head,
And I will never regret the day
I put a snake in her bed.
10 March 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friend, Lover, Sister, Mother/wife
If I ever held a hand
It was only because Id never held your hand
That was part of the plan
I had 2 get it right if I was 2 be your man
And if I ever kissed your lips
I needed time 2 cross the others off my list (off my list)
A higher high 2 the trip (trip)
I wanted u 2 go, that was my wish - yes it was
(ooh my) friend, lover, sister, mother/wife
Air, food, water, love of my life
If I ever shared a bed
It was only cuz I wanted 2 live up 2 what the people said, oh yes
(what they say? ) {x5}
Now Im livin instead
Everyday just 2 say ure the only one whos in my head
(the only one) {x2}
Oh yes u are
And if I ever made u cry
All I have 2 do is think about it and I just wanna die (I just wanna die)
(I just wanna break down and die, die, die, die)
How Id ever make it by (I dont know) without u, baby (without u, baby)
I dont know (no!), I hope I never have 2 try, yeah
(please dont ever leave me)
Oh, listen 2 me
(ooh my) friend, lover, sister, mother/wife
(my sweet, sweet friend, lover, sister, mother/wife)
Air, food, water, love of my life
The eyes of my child I see every time u look at me
(I see a sweet baby smile)
A sweet baby smile like a light that shines 4 all 2 see
(and if I ever held a hand) if I ever held a hand
Oh, twas only cuz Id never held yours
That was part of, part of the plan
I had 2 get it right (right) if I was 2 be your man because...
(ooh my) friend, lover, sister, mother/wife
(friend, lover, sister, mother/wife)
My, my, my, my air, my food, my water, love of my life (I love u)
(everlasting life)
Teacher (teacher), healer (healer), feeler (feeler), sight 4 sore eyes
(let me look at your eyes - ure so pretty)
Oh, yes u are, baby
(ooh my) dont u know ure my friend, my lover, my sister, love of my life (mother/wife)
Yeah, baby, yes u are
{te amo is I love u}
(ooh my) friend (te amo), lover (te amo), sister (te amo), mother/wife
(hug me, hug me, hug me baby, u are my life)
(Ill stay with u 4ever) {x2}
Till death do us part, baby (yes sir!)
Air (te amo), food (te amo), water (te amo), love (love of my life)
U are the only, only love of my life
My friend, lover, sister, mother/wife
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sally's Goodbye
Sally got up early to find what she could wear,
Then brushed her teeth and combed her hair.
She wasn’t going outside to play,
For today was a very special day.
Sally put on her favourite dress and matching headband,
In her favourite colour she looked so beautiful, just as planned.
‘Are you ready? ’ her daddy said
‘Yes Daddy I am, I’m just making my bed.’
She held her Daddy’s hand as they walked to the car
For she knew someone was watching from afar
They got in the car and drove away
Looking at the white clouds, with a touch of grey.
Everyone was there to give her a hug and kiss
She knew it was a day that no one would miss
In her matching headband and blue dress
As she walked through the doors she said god bless.
The place was decorated just like she thought
There was just enough room for the flowers she brought
Sally went up to the front of the room
And she knew that she would see her Mummy soon.
‘Here you are Mummy, I got these for you’
She was wearing her favourite colour, which was blue.
Sally placed the flowers she carried in her basket
With all the others right on top of her Mum’s casket.
Sally was 7 years old and didn’t understand
That her mummy couldn’t see her pretty blue headband
Daddy came up and placed on some flowers
He smiled, looking at Sally, ‘she’ll know they’re ours’.
They took their seat and began to wait
Most guests were seated, some were late.
The minister talked of a woman so beautiful
A wife, a mother and all things wonderful.
Sally asked Daddy if she could say a word
It was the sweetest thing her Daddy had heard.
‘Of course you can, Mummy would be proud,
Just go up there and remember to speak loud.
Sally walked up the front and stood at the pew
She knew everyone could see her in her dress of blue.
With memories in her head and love in her heart
She cleared her throat and began to start.
‘Mummy was so beautiful and so kind,
When I did things wrong, she would never really mind.
Mummy was very sick, and now she’s in heaven
She missed my birthday, because today I’m seven.
I wore our favourite colour today, I hope she can see
I wore a matching headband, it’s nice, I think she’d agree.
Mummy, I will make sure that Daddy will smile
Because I know that we won’t be seeing you for a while
We miss you more each and every day
But I still see you in my own special way.
I close my eyes, and you are there
Smiling back at me with your long blonde hair.
I love you mummy, you’re the best mum to me
I know that this is the way it has to be
Every time I think of you I will smile
And I will see you in heaven, in just a little while.’
Sally sat down with a smile on her face
Daddy held her in a warm embrace.
‘I’m so proud of you’ Said Daddy with a tear in his eye
It’s not forever Daddy, it’s just a short goodbye.
Sally watched her mummy be carried away,
Her head held high she began to pray,
‘Dear god please take care of my mummy,
she will be the most beautiful angel there will ever be’
poem by Kayla Neil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im The Girl
Ive got a memory
A thousand years old
And I know secrets
Ive never been told
And Ive got jewels
I havent found
And theyll return me
To the ground
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
And Im a siren
Ill wreck you on my shores
And Im godiva
Ill call you back for more
And Im medusa
And Im your favourite doll
And Im a georgia okeefe
Hanging on your wall
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
Im joan of arc
Im the girl next door
Im the mother and the daughter
Of the mother and the daughter before
And I remember being born just sound and light
And sound and light and light
And I remember the first time, skin on skin in the arms
In the arms of the night
Well how many times have we looked up into the starry skies
And how many times have we felt the passion rise
Every ruby-lipped girl baby, old lady, squaw junkie, girl after girl after girl
Every muse, whore, good witch, princess, back arching, year after year after year
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
Im the girl, Im the girl, Im the girl
You know me
Im joan of arc
Im the girl next door
Im the mother and the daughter
Of the mother and the daughter
The mother and the daughter
Of the mother and the daughter
The mother and the daughter
Of the mother and the daughter
Before.
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through Mother's Eyes
Through Mother’s Eyes
© 2009 (Jim Grant Sularz)
With my first Soulful breath,
it was Mother’s eyes I saw.
She counted my tiny fingers and toes,
leaned gently, to kiss my brow.
Announcements sent out right away,
my name chosen, so carefully.
The name, I think, a famous General’s claim,
was now the name, I’d call my own.
My first birthday gift,
sweet cake smeared across my face and lips.
The first steps I took, outside Mother’s reach,
she sprinkled Fairy dust, to help me Fly!
Each year, with each measured line,
Mother made my mark along the door.
But I always tried to fudge a bit,
with tiptoes on the floor.
Bumps and scrapes and crying soothed,
some ointment, she’d kiss away the pain.
Everyday, I'd come running back to Mother,
for hugs and kisses, anyway.
First day of school, anxious cries at Home,
an endless day away from Mom.
“Draw me a “choo-choo” trains, ” she said,
and I drew them - all day long.
It was through Mother’s eyes, that I glimpse the World,
both good and bad were explained.
But only good would make it past Mother’s eyes,
and the bad was chased fast away.
Warm Summer days, Family picnics at the lake,
corn dogs and ice cream on a stick.
Cold snowy nights, white frosted windowpanes,
making snow Angels, with half-frozen fingertips.
First school date, first Christmas dance,
where Cinderellas and Princes pranced.
But, the eyes I noticed now,
were no longer just my Mother’s.
Long years of school, drills and rules,
a Foreign shore, a Sweetheart missed.
And through it all, there was always Mother's voice,
calling me Home, from a War's abyss.
Wedding bells rang out crystal clear,
those other eyes I noticed, were now adored.
The years flew by, our Children grew,
and Mother grew older, too.
Thanksgiving feasts around the table,
Children born, toasts, and loud celebrations,
Birthday gifts, songs, proud graduations,
and Mother’s bright eyes, began to dim.
In her quiet manner, with a solemn look,
Mother smiled and held my hands.
“Upstairs, there’s a jar, behind my easy chair,
go there - when the time is right.'
When Death arrived, in wait for Mother,
with a chilled silence, on the darkest night.
Mother reached out for her last embrace,
then was wisked away, bathed in light.
Mother never washed off my marks along the door,
saved a flower from my first Christmas Dance.
Framed her collection of my “choo-choo” trains,
next to a portrait of General Grant.
Grand Children loved to dress up at “Great Granny’s House, ''
where Cinderellas and Princes pranced.
And upstairs - Mother left me her Fairy dust,
to help them Fly!
poem by Jim Sularz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From the Diary of a Mimes
At my grandmothers house, you will see a hundred years of family portraits. We are a family of mimes. The portraits are of mimes.
You may ask why would someone wish to be a mime? For it is a limited existence beings that a mime s a simile of a single frame photograph. Look at the pictures at grandmothers house, do you feel the pain? This is my pain.
Becoming a mime.
I was six or seven years old. Grandmother and I were sitting in her living room, I had slept over at her house for a weekend while mom, dad and little brother tend to other things. Grandmother was in an odd mood today. She looked at her pictures and smiled some. And cried a little." I think its time you wore your mime face." She said. Today you will learn how to become a mime." So I said" Yes madman she proceeded to make up my face.
As she put on my makeup she started to cry. She cried for a long time. I was a little girl I started crying as well. I could not watch my grandmother cry without shedding tears of my own. So we sat and cried.
'Why are we crying' I asked? 'Well dear, sometimes life deals you a hard enough blow that even a mime will cry." I said 'Ok.'I was soon to find out what she meant. This is the day I learned a safe place for a heart to be. I learned that a person could freeze emotions and save them for future use. Yes place them in a jar, to be opened at an appropriate time. For that is what I do. You see I write a sad story, open a jar of tears and cry for a minute.
So after a good cry, grandmother took my hand and led me to the foyer wondered why I had to wear my mime face. Well grandmother had hers on, so I thought it must be a family thing, and I did not question. We sat under the foyer, was hot.New Orleans is a hot place at certain times of the year. There was no breeze, was still as could be. Nothing moved, except perhaps the webs a few lucky spiders, the ones who had prey to close in on.
'God bless mother nature, child. Its infinite wisdom, allows all creatures sustenance 'Uhh grandmother, that is a spider. Kill it, mom does.''No." She says, this is his house. If he were in mine, then I would kill him, but he lives here and kills insects.'
'You say he" I asked." How do you know it is a male spider? " She sighs." I do not know.' So I ask." Then why do you say it is a male? " It is taken for granted that any unknown sex is referred to as he. God is male." I answer" God could be a woman. I do not think anyone knows Gods sex grandmother. The world would be better if God was a female.''Perhaps so child." She answers, " Perhaps so.'
'Your father used to say that when he was your age. Always a philosophy with him." And her eye tiered up again. But I saw her turn to ice of a sudden. The tears dried. Then a long white car pulled up in the driveway, grandmother took my hand and we walked to the car. A man in a grey uniform opened the door and we sat inside. 'I will remember every detail of this day. For this is where my life changed.'
The car drove us to a big fancy building, it was full of mimes dressed in black. Even as a child I realized that something was wrong, so many mimes, all crying and made up in misery faces. I wondered why. They all parted as grandmother and I entered the building.
It was an odd place. Sad sounding music reminded me of harmonies of sorrow, organs and moans and tears. There were 3 pretty boxes in the center of the room. People were all around, most of them mimes, most were crying. 'Grand mother, what is in the boxes? 'I asked." Why do all the mimes look into them and cry? ''Never mind my child. Just be a mime.'
'Well if my daddy was here he would pick me up and I could see what was in the boxes." My grandmother looked down at me and started to cry, and the tears flowed." Brace yourself girl." She said. Then she picked me up. Eagerly I looked over the side of the box. In it was the reason I became a mime. I saw my fathers body made up to be a mime laying with his hands together as if he were praying. My brother and mother the same in other boxes. I knew they had passed away.
It was hard on a little girl, to have it etched into her mind.I kicked and screamed till grandmother set me on my feet. I ran out of the room and never spoke another word until this day.
I do not like this one much.
Christmas Eve
Oh sharp diamond, my mother!
I could not count the cost
of all your faces, your moods-
that present that I lost.
Sweet girl, my deathbed,
my jewel-fingered lady,
your portrait flickered all night
by the bulbs of the tree.
Your face as calm as the moon
over a mannered sea,
presided at the family reunion,
the twelve grandchildren
you used to wear on your wrist,
a three-months-old baby,
a fat check you never wrote,
the red-haired toddler who danced the twist,
your aging daughters, each one a wife,
each one talking to the family cook,
each one avoiding your portrait,
each one aping your life.
Later, after the party,
after the house went to bed,
I sat up drinking the Christmas brandy,
watching your picture,
letting the tree move in and out of focus.
The bulbs vibrated.
They were a halo over your forehead.
Then they were a beehive,
blue, yellow, green, red;
each with its own juice, each hot and alive
stinging your face. But you did not move.
I continued to watch, forcing myself,
waiting, inexhaustible, thirty-five.
I wanted your eyes, like the shadows
of two small birds, to change.
But they did not age.
The smile that gathered me in, all wit,
all charm, was invincible.
Hour after hour I looked at your face
but I could not pull the roots out of it.
Then I watched how the sun hit your red sweater, your withered neck,
your badly painted flesh-pink skin.
You who led me by the nose, I saw you as you were.
Then I thought of your body
as one thinks of murder-
Then I said Mary-
Mary, Mary, forgive me
and then I touched a present for the child,
the last I bred before your death;
and then I touched my breast
and then I touched the floor
and then my breast again as if,
somehow, it were one of yours.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Remember The Time
Do you remember
When we fell in love
We were young
And innocent then
Do you remember
How it all began
It just seemed like heaven
So why did it end?
Do you remember
Back in the fall
Wed be together
All day long
Do you remember
Us holding hands
In each others eyes
Wed stare
(tell me)
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
When we first met
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
Do you remember
How we used to talk
(ya know)
Wed stay on the phone
At night till dawn
Do you remember
All the things we said like
I love you so
Ill never let you go
Do you remember
Back in the spring
Every morning birds would sing
Do you remember
Those special times
Theyll just go on and on
In the back of my mind
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
When we first met girl
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
Those sweet memories
Will always be dear to me
And girl no matter what was said
I will never forget what we had
Now baby
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
When we first met
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
When we first met
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
Remember the times
Ooh
Remember the times
Do you remember girl
Remember the times
On the phone you and me
Remember the times
Till dawn, two or three
What about us girl
Remember the times
Do you. do you, do you,
Do you, do you
Remember the times
In the park, on the beach
Remember the times
You and me in spain
Remember the times
What about, what about...
Remember the times
Ooh... in the park
Remember the times
After dark..., do you, do you, do you
Remember the times
Do you, do you, do you, do you
Remember the times
Yeah yeah
Remember the times
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Still Around
Do you remember what you said to me the day I met you
Like yesterday I still can hear your voice, you promised to be
Still in my life no matter what you had to do to be there
Well, it's been a while and here we are lookin' back on times that we shared
I still imagine us being young and so in love
Never apart, you were my heart
Seems like it's always just been us
Chorus:
I remember we were in the park
Holding hands and you said to me
I'm the only thing you need
And I would make your life complete
If I said I'd be your girl
You would stay with me forever
Boy, you never let me down
Through it all you're still around
Still around (yeah)
I still believe in all the things you said to me in those days
You gave me love and kept your word with every promise you made
I sing your favorite song inside my head when you're not with me
Until you come back home and take me in your arms and hold me
I can imagine us being old and still in love
Never apart, you are my heart
Makes me smile, we're still in love
I remember we were in the park
Holding hands and you said to me
I'm the only thing you need
And I would make your life complete
If I said I'd be your girl
You would stay with me forever
Boy, you never let me down
Through it all you're still around
Looking back through all the years
(Man speaking):
Heh
You remember the first time I went to your house
And your father looked at me like I had three heads
(And I will never forget the day)
Heh
We were so in love
(Looking back through all the years)
You were so beautiful and so young
(And I will never forget the day you came into my life and what you said to me)
I can't believe you're still mine
That's crazy
I love you
I remember we were in the park (we were in the park)
Holding hands and you said to me (holding hands)
I'm the only thing you need
And I would make your life complete (and I would your life complete)
If I said I'd be your girl
You would stay with me forever (I'm still your girl)
Boy, you never let me down
Through it all you're still around (I'll never let you down, my baby)
I remember we were in the park
Holding hands and you said to me
I'm the only thing you need
And I would make your life complete
If I said I'd be your girl (said I'd be your girl and)
You would stay with me forever
Boy, you never let me down
Through it all you're still around
Still around (yeah)
song performed by by Jennifer Lopez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
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...
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 Player Piano
I ate pancakes one night in a Pancake House
Run by a lady my age. She was gay.
When I told her that I came from Pasadena
She laughed and said, "I lived in Pasadena
When Fatty Arbuckle drove the El Molino bus."
I felt that I had met someone from home.
No, not Pasadena, Fatty Arbuckle.
Who's that? Oh, something that we had in common
Like -- like -- the false armistice. Piano rolls.
She told me her house was the first Pancake House
East of the Mississippi, and I showed her
A picture of my grandson. Going home --
Home to the hotel -- I began to hum,
"Smile a while, I bid you sad adieu,
When the clouds roll back I'll come to you."
Let's brush our hair before we go to bed,
I say to the old friend who lives in my mirror.
I remember how I'd brush my mother's hair
Before she bobbed it. How long has it been
Since I hit my funnybone? had a scab on my knee?
Here are Mother and Father in a photograph,
Father's holding me.... They both look so young.
I'm so much older than they are. Look at them,
Two babies with their baby. I don't blame you,
You weren't old enough to know any better;
If I could I'd go back, sit down by you both,
And sign our true armistice: you weren't to blame.
I shut my eyes and there's our living room.
The piano's playing something by Chopin,
And Mother and Father and their little girl
Listen. Look, the keys go down by themselves!
I go over, hold my hands out, play I play --
If only, somehow, I had learned to live!
The three of us sit watching, as my waltz
Plays itself out a half-inch from my fingers.
poem by Randall Jarrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heart of Gold (-for my mother)
I was not the person I appeared to be-
In your eyes, I was different.
Although you never told me-
In your spoken words, I was like all of the others-
So many times you had hurt me deeply,
Through your spoken words and through your eyes,
I could never do right-
The slap of your hand across my face
When I was none but a child of six, even before the words came out-
Told me I was a bad girl- I wept and you just walked past me.
Roses grew in my father’s garden, plentifully and beautifully, in the summertime,
Our home was a palace- my father was the king and you were the queen.
When flowers blossomed in the springtime and
Leaves changed colors in the autumn- snow would fall in the wintertime-
No matter the season, you were the one with the friendly smile and the life of the party-
We were the perfect family though I could almost say- though secretly- I hated you.
I was only fourteen years old when I broke down and they put me away-
I used to think that if you did love me, I never would have known.
The bird that could not fly and the child that did not grow up-
The young woman, who heard voices nobody else heard, saw sights no one else saw-
Everybody was a threat except for those who lived inside the world I had fabricated.
I was not the person I appeared to be- the act you forced me to put on-
To be like everybody else, I could never be.
I wept myself the night father told me how you cried every night I was locked inside
The world of my delusions and locked inside that place where
People like me were put away- and a month before you passed away,
I remember reading the words inscribed across the yellow lined paper-
That you had always loved me and I was the most important person in your life.
Through those written words, I could see the pain written across your face and
For the first time, the love you felt for me shone through your soulful brown eyes-
It was the ticking of the wall clock that made me understand, was
Keeping time and telling me that in just a short time you would be gone, and
To be departed from this world forever.
I am alone now and your ashes have been scattered at sea,
As had been your final wish and desire-
A woman who had lived a life of suffering and
Who was not there for me because she could not be, only because
She had been locked inside a world of her own despair,
A survivor of a life filled with tragedy and pain, but
Having grown, I can understand and hear the beating of a golden heart, and
Tears cried out of love for a child who had lost her sanity at an age so young-
I would remember more than
Flowers blossoming, leaves changing colors and snow falling,
Year after year, and the agony of growing up in a family I believed at the time
Did not care or understand-, but I would remember those precious words inscribed
Across yellow lined paper- then I would pick a flower and tuck it behind my ear,
Continue my journey through this life and always keep in mind as I listen,
In my fondest memory- the ocean’s waves lapping against the shore where
Your ashes were scattered twenty years past and
The beating of your golden heart…
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Helen's for Tea.
After school
Helen's mother took you home to tea
and she was wheeling
the big pram along the pavement
with you on one side
and Helen on the other
and she said
hold onto the pram
while we cross the roads
I don't want anything
to happen to you
and as you crossed
the busy roads
you kept glancing over
at Helen with her plaited hair
parted in the middle
and her thin wired glasses
and her raincoat
buttoned tight
against the wind
and her small hand
clutching the pram handle tightly
and beside you
Helen's mother
short and stocky
pushing and puffing
and her eyes dark as night
and kind at the same time
and when you reached their home
and went inside
and she took off your coat
you went with Helen
into the sitting room
with a coal fire blazing
and the smell
of drying clothes
and past dinners
and Helen said
do you want to see my dolls
and the doll's house
my daddy made
out of boxwood
with lights you can turn off and on?
sure ok
you said
and you followed her
into her bedroom
where her toys and dolls
were laid up along the wall
next to her bed
and she took up a doll
and held her out to you
and said
this is my favourite
this is Jenny
and you said
hi Jenny how you doing?
and Helen smiled
her slightly goofy smile
and you liked that
her smile
and her eyes large as duck eggs
behind the thick lens
and she handed the doll
to you to hold
and you held the doll
and kissed the head
and hugged it close
thinking glad the other boys
can't see me now
here with this girl
and kissing and holding
the darn doll
out of some small boy love
and shyness
and you know
they'd laugh out loud
and point their tough boy fingers
and you're glad
they aren't there
just Helen
and her little girl love and kindness
against their rough ways
and small boy toughness.
poem by Terry Collett
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Mother In Law
(a. toussaint)
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
The worst person I know
Mother in law, mother in law
She worries me so
Mother in law, mother in law
If she leaves us alone
We could have a happy home
Sent from down below
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
Satan should be her name
Mother in law, mother in law
To me theyre about the same
Mother in law, mother in law
Everytime I open my mouth
Steps in trying to put me out
How could you stood so low
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
Come home with my pay
Mother in law, mother in law
She asks me what I made
Mother in law, mother in law
She thinks her advice is a contribution
If she would leave that would be the solution
Dont come back no more
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law....
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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