To My Mother
Why
you went
and in this
bitter and cruel world
alone me left
was death so beautı ful and your beloved
did you miss it very much
fed up of us
you used to take us
under your skirt
and protect us from rainy days
from everything harmful
is you grave as cold as ice
why did you made it be dug so large
whom are yı ou expecting near as dear
was death so beautı ful mother
why you left us alone
ı t ı s evident
you longed for it
ı was angry
do noyt go do not leave us
pardon me mother
after so many years
ı came to your place
to embrace
may be youare lyiş ng in tears
and of longings
again another december
the day you left
did you remember
your hands were cracked
may be of cold
forgive me moı ther
ı could not afford to buy cream
to soothe them
you gone with your cracked hands
there is alittle ceddar on your grave
who sowed it ı do not know
some kinds of fruı t on it
ı took and smelled
they smelled you mother
ı took some with me to home
they are dried now
my wife does not know
ell me mother
after so many years
are your hands or
your heart are still cracked
tell me how can ı soothe them
or am ı so late to you
pardon me
forgive me
remember the only thing
the most longing of my heart
is still you
every night ı will go on talking with you
in my dream
in my sleep
or in my awake
poem by Metin Sahin
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Related quotes
My Mother(aday)
Blessed is your face
Blessed is your name
My beloved
Blessed is your smile
Which makes my soul want to fly
My beloved
All the nights
And all the times
That you cared for me
But I never realised it
And now it’s too late
I miss you
Now I’m alone filled with so much shame
For all the years I caused you pain
If only I could sleep in your arms again
Mother I’m lost without you
You were the sun that brightened my day
Now who’s going to wipe my tears away
If only I knew what I know today
Mother I’m lost without you
Mother... Mother... O my mother
How I long to see O mother
“Your mother, Your mother, Your mother”
Is the saying of our Prophet(s.a.w)
In my heart, in my dreams
You are always with me mother
You went and left me
O light of my eyes
O comfort of my nights
You went and left me
Who, other than you, will embrace me?
Who, other than you, will cover me?
Who, other than you, will guard over me?
Your pardon mother, I miss you
Nov,3rd,2009
poem by Lateef Jan Afridi Ab.latif jan
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You Think I Don' t Remember
You think I don' t remember, the night it started
Well I do
I ran away, because my heart was breaking
I left a note you never found
Of course you wouldn' t
You were never there
You left it up to your oldest daughter
To be the mother
Ya that turned out great
Look at us now
I haven' t changed much my heart is still breaking
And I am still without a mother
You think I don' t remember the first time it happened
The first lesson you gave me (as you would always call them)
We weren' t all alone
He was there, that person you married, just for money
Another smart move
He' s the one that showed you and taught you how to leave no marks
For that first time went all so wrong and you left too many marks
But I said no words
Because you' re my mother
Now all these years latter
You are the one that doesn' t understand why
I don' t say I Love You
When I am now raising your kids
When I am only a kid my self
I know how I have doing it for a while
But its time for me to retire
For you to start being my mother
And me a young adult
You think I don' t remember
The first
The second
The fifth
The day to day
You think I don' t remember
The ones I have taken for my brother
The one that happen this morning
Because you think I am a whore
For getting taken advantage of
You dont know half of what he did to me
no one does or ever will
You don' t see what I see in my dreams
And you arent drowning in the tears I cant cry
You think I don' t remember mom
But I do, I remember
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Happy Mother's Day
O Mary, Mother of God,
You are my everlasting Mother,
You help me and protect every one of us,
Whatever it might be, unlike other;
O Mother dear,
You are my most beloved Mother,
With your two hands you did so much,
It is beyond any words thinkable.
Comfort thy O Mother,
And endeavor to do,
What is conducive to
The happiness of her heart.
O Mother, Mary
Give us all the blessings and unconditional love,
Taking care of us all the time,
Thank you so much, O Mother Mary.
Mothers around the world,
The burden and suffering you carry are so great,
They beat every Guinness Book world records made,
But you know your responsibilities have not ended yet.
Be sure to enjoy this joyous day,
For love is poured especially for you,
Cherish and remember this wonderful day,
For you all are the greatest mothers.
May God Bless All Mothers on Earth;
Happy Mother’s Day to Our Beloved mothers.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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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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William Upson
Air -- "The Major's Only Son"
Come all good people, far and near,
Oh, come and see what you can hear,
It's of a young man, true and brave,
Who is now sleeping in his grave.
Now, William Upson was his name --
If it's not that it's all the same --
He did enlist in the cruel strife,
And it caused him to lose his life.
He was Jesse Upson's eldest son,
His father loved his noble son;
This son was nineteen years of age,
In the rebellion he engaged.
His father said that he might go,
But his dear mother she said no.
"Stay at home, dear Billy," she said,
But oh, she could not turn his head.
For go he would, and go he did --
He would not do as his mother bid,
For he went away down South, there
Where he could not have his mother's care.
He went to Nashville, Tennessee,
There his kind friends he could not see;
He died among strangers, far away,
They knew not where his body lay.
He was taken sick and lived four weeks,
And oh, how his parents weep,
But now they must in sorrow mourn,
Billy has gone to his heaven home.
If his mother could have seen her son,
For she loved him, her darling one,
If she could heard his dying prayer,
It would ease her heart till she met him there.
It would relieved his mother's heart,
To have seen her son from this world depart,
And hear his noble words of love,
As he left this world for that above.
It will relieve his mother's heart,
That her son is laid in our grave yard;
Now she knows that his grave is near,
She will not shed so many tears.
She knows not that it was her son,
His coffin could not be opened --
It might be some one in his place,
For she could not see his noble face.
He enrolled in eighteen sixty-three,
The next day after Christmas eve;
He died in eighteen sixty-four,
Twenty-third of March, as I was told.
poem by Julia A Moore
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My Father's Persistence
Was there rain coming down that day?
I really can't remember.
My mother says it was cold and dreary
on that day in December.
Was I welcomed onto this earth
as I took my first breath in?
My father wanted a boy to raise.
Should I have stayed where I had been?
Gradually he accepted a little girl
and held me on his knee.
He played LP records for hours
and I inhaled the harmony.
My mother says he was obsessed with this
and thought I should be left alone.
But his persistence through my first two years
paid off with each new tone.
By age four I was playing the piano
and my father praised God.
My mother was surprised I guess.
But she thought me rather odd.
My happiest childhood memories
was playing whatever I'd heard.
My father was deliriously happy.
My mother thought it absurd.
Most of my youth went so fast.
Most of it I can't remember,
just like the part about rain coming down
on that cold dreary day in December.
But the thing I remember the most now
was my father's pride and joy
that I was born a girl instead of a baby boy.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Do You Remember When
do you remember when
you have stepped your first step towards life
and when you first screamed
comı ng face to face with it
when you had your first beloved
do you remember
when you had seen the first blues of the seas
when first swam in the sea
do you remember
when you f irst saw the storks on chimneys
and the young black beaks
and when you worrı ed for their eggs
not to be frozen in winter
do you remember the day
you lost your father
and your relatives and friends
do you remember
the first blooming red roses
and their thorns
when you heard a nightingale
sing the last time
art dawns
do you remember your last gambling
in lousy clubs
do you remember
your first hair cut alone
in a barber- shop
do you remeber your first
as a grown up man
and your first scold as a woman
do you remember
the day you lost your mother
in KORAN it says
HEAVEN LIES UNDER the FEET OF THE MOTHERS
mother..mother...mother
do you remember me
do you hear me
forgive me..forgive me..forgive me
poem by Metin Sahin
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The Mother's Son
I have a dream -- a dreadful dream --
A dream that is never done.
I watch a man go out of his mind,
And he is My Mother's Son.
They pushed him into a Mental Home,
And that is like the grave:
For they do not let you sleep upstairs,
And you aren't allowed to shave.
And it was not disease or crime
Which got him landed there,
But because They laid on My Mother's Son
More than a man could bear.
What with noise, and fear of death,
Waking, and wounds and cold,
They filled the Cup for My Mother's Son
Fuller than it could hold.
They broke his body and his mind
And yet They made him live,
And They asked more of My Mother's Son
Than any man could give.
For, just because he had not died,
Nor been discharged nor sick,
They dragged it out with My Mother's Son
Longer than he could stick....
And no one knows when he'll get well --
So, there he'll have to be:
And, 'spite of the beard in the looking-glass,
I know that man is me!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Little Minnie
Air -- "In the Cottage by the Sea"
Come listen to a painful story
A mother is going to tell,
For her heart is over-flowing
For that one she loved so well.
It's of a little infant daughter,
Mild and lovely, bright and fair --
She has left this world forever,
Left this world of grief and care.
Chorus --
Alone, all alone
In the grave yard she is sleeping,
That little one we loved so well --
God her little soul is keeping,
For he doeth all things well.
Oh! how sadly we'll remember,
On a bright and pleasant day --
It was the very last of summer
That her spirit fled away;
Fled away from earth forever,
Gone to dwell with Him above,
Where little angels dwell together
In His everlasting love.
Oh! we miss our little Minnie,
With blue eyes and flaxen hair --
Oh, we loved our little Minnie,
And we miss her every where;
Yes, we miss her at the table
Every morning, noon and night,
While she sat with us together,
For she was our heart's delight.
On the twenty-fifth of August,
Eighteen hundred and seventy-three,
God he called her then to leave us,
And a parting had to be.
As the day it was declining,
The sun was down behind the trees,
Little Minnie she was dying,
Her little soul it had to leave.
Left this world of earthly trouble
And her friends that loved her dear,
Father, mother, sister, brother,
Her place with them is vacant here.
Her little soul is at rest forever
In our Father's heavenly home,
Her little form is sweetly sleeping
In the cold and silent tomb.
Oh! she was our eldest daughter,
She was handsome to behold --
Every one that knew her loved her,
And her age was four years old.
And we miss her merry laughter,
Through the house she used to roam --
That little one, we'll not forget her
In our dear and loving home.
Oh! how oft-times we have kissed her
And caressed her little form --
God of heaven knows we loved her
From the day that she was born.
On a day of independence,
Eighteen hundred and sixty-nine,
God he gave to us a present
Of that little girl so fine.
poem by Julia A Moore
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My Mother The War
[ lyrics: natalie merchant & michael walsh/music: j.c.lombardo ]
She borders the pavement
Flanks avenues
Parades pass white glove attended by
My mother the war
Shell raise a shaft
Lift a banner
Toss a rose
My mother the war
Shes made every effort
To salvage the few
Bought fourteen liberty bonds
My mother the war
Mother the war
She knows every neighbor
Chats at their doors
Compare econosize electric appliances
My mother the war
Share tea and a seat
By my cradle with
My mother the war
Mother the war
Caressing the globe
Touch on his isle
She wrings hands in pensive waiting
My mother the war
Haunts her doorway
Begs her postman
Is there word for
My mother the war
Momentos of distant vigil
Three years each tour
Hands of God enfold him prayed
My mother the war
Mother the war
In bitter defiance
Shes spitting the corps
Shes wet a brood short league for combat
My mother the war
Well acquainted with sorrow
Left millions in grief
My mother the war
Fold
Laced
Carrion
Blood
Soaked
Robes
Mother the war
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hands & Knees
You see me walking away
What more could I say than sorry
I failed by all your complaints
You pushed a life change but its not me
And filthy hands lay apon my chest
Lay upon my sin, but I do it for green
And in your mind you are blind
And your back turn so fine
Where were you when I needed you most
So mother so father
Im on my hands and knees
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me
My self-indulgence to blame
For all of the shame in the family
You dont know what its like
How I feel how I cry
How I hate the way I hate my life
So mother so father Im on my hands and knees
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me
Pues madre, y padre
Esta vida no quiero vivir
So mother so father
I dont want to live this way
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me
So mother so father
I dont want to live this way
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me
song performed by by Unloco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Occupation
Leaving the stains behind
I am moving to a new home
O mother
to wear the sun.
The black moon
had been stalking me for years
O mother
for a pink romance lifting the clouds.
Though, I will not come back
ever, in the valley of skins
O mother
yet I will remember your beloved night.
Nebulous was the transit
to sleep without beds.
O mother
How long these protests will continue?
poem by Satish Verma
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She Died for Love
He took my heart away from me,
Now he wants to set me free.
I see a girl on his lap,
He says things to her that he never said to me.
I ran home to cry on my bed,
Not a word to mother was said.
Fater came home late that night,
He looked at me from left to right.
He saw me hanging from a rope,
He took him knife and cut me down.
And a note on my dress was found:
Dig my grave,
Dig it deep.
Dig my grave,
From head to feet.
And on top put a dove.
And remember this,
I died for love...............
poem by Heather Noble
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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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Yvonne of Brittany
In your mother's apple-orchard,
Just a year ago, last spring:
Do you remember, Yvonne!
The dear trees lavishing
Rain of their starry blossoms
To make you a coronet?
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
As I remember yet?
In your mother's apple-orchard,
When the world was left behind:
You were shy, so shy, Yvonne!
But your eyes were calm and kind.
We spoke of the apple harvest,
When the cider press is set,
And such-like trifles, Yvonne,
That doubtless you forget.
In the still, soft Breton twilight,
We were silent; words were few,
Till your mother came out chiding,
For the grass was bright with dew:
But I know your heart was beating,
Like a fluttered, frightened dove.
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
That first faint flush of love?
In the fulness of midsummer,
When the apple-bloom was shed,
Oh, brave was your surrender,
Though shy the words you said.
I was glad, so glad, Yvonne!
To have led you home at last;
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
How swiftly the days passed?
In your mother's apple-orchard
It is grown too dark to stray,
There is none to chide you, Yvonne!
You are over far away.
There is dew on your grave grass, Yvonne!
But your feet it shall not wet:
No, you never remember, Yvonne!
And I shall soon forget.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Aproaching The New...the Unknown
it is not easy to save
or spare the years
itiis a tough business
though
ı have spared and saved so many years
once ı was a baby in a cradle
crying and seeking a refuge
in my mother bosom
then she was in flesh and blood
living beloved
now she is gone and left me alone
fed up with me
resting in her grave
may be a skeleton ı fear and salute
ı have never known father too
thoughmy mother...my father
my sisters and my big brother
always meet
ı n a photocopy
of an ancient..old and faded photograph
my wife put in my sleeping room
my father was a veteran soldier
of our liberatı on war
now ı am grown up
really
becomı ng an old man
a ping pong ball
walking in stalk
sometimes with a walking stick
lost one of my hip
no bosom to cry
with nowhere to shelter
just me and myself
approaching where ı never know
never guess
cause ı have enough of years
when ı remember them each
comes from my heart and eyes
the tears
fearing the new of everything
it is 20 of december
no snow this year
even the season is faking
may be the end we are approaching
for the word
for the universe
or rather for me
never the less
life living worth
some say it is fall
some say it is spring
some say it is the end
but ı have enough of spared years
let the rest be yours
poem by Metin Sahin
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The Death-Song
Mother, mother! my heart is wild,
Hold me upon your bosom dear,
Do not frown on your own poor child,
Death is darkly drawing near.
Mother, mother! the bitter shame
Eats into my very soul;
And longing love, like a wrapping flame,
Burns me away without control.
Mother, mother! upon my brow
The clammy death-sweats coldly rise;
How dim and strange your features grow
Through the hot mist that veils my eyes.
Mother, mother! sing me the song
They sing on sunny August eves,
The rustling barley fields along,
Binding up the ripe, red sheaves.
Mother, mother! I do not hear
Your voice—but his—oh, guard me well!
His breathing makes me faint with fear,
His clasping arms are round me still.
Mother, mother! unbind my vest,
Upon my heart lies his first token:
Now lay me in my narrow nest,
Your withered blossom, crushed and broken.
poem by Frances Anne Kemble
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Mother's Trinkets
Don't go in there mother says
But I did anyway
Don't play with those mother says
But I played anyway
The light danced around the glass and crystal figurines, entrancing my
young mind
How could such objects be so beautiful?
They set fire to my imagination and the trinkets became my new toys. Mothers warnings meant nothing to me, not a care of how fragile the toys were went through my mind
Don't go in there mother says
But I did anyway
Don't play with those mother says
But I played anyway
The beautiful trinket lay cracked on the floor my wonderful toy existed
no more
With one careless slip of the hand down went the glass
And I burstt into nervous tears mothers warnings I suddenly feared
so quick I hid the evidence she would never know
Don't go in there mother says
But I did anyway
Don't play with those mother says
But I played anyway
Just as I feared clever mother found the broken toy, the cracked glass
hidden among the rest.
I could stand the lies to longer and with one final burst of tears my fears were no more for mother was not mad just glad to see no injury done
poem by M.S.B Anonymous
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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.
What is a mother? pt 2
What is a mother? A mother is a friend.
What is a mother? A mother is your hero.
What is a mother? A mother is someone who can make your wishes comes true.
What is a mother? A mother is sugar and spice.
What is a mother? A mother knows all the coolest music and style.
What is a mother? A mother is everything in between.
What is a mother? A mother is a better version of you.
What is a mother? A mother is your mommy till the day that you leave this world behind.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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