Indus
The Indus valley has born forth a child,
So it was pronounced
When my mother was born.
Her hair is like liquid India ink.
Her eyes are black opals.
She is a tigress,
And a peacock.
She was an enchantress from birth.
Born from Kings
To bear future Kings.
She
is forever the epitome of royalty.
After she matured
Legends of her beauty
Were famous in far reaches of the world.
The rich enchantress,
A budding promise of everything.
The stupid child
Left her innocent door open.
To the one entity who
Snuck into the castle,
Robbed her and raped her,
Left her with no pride, humanity, or dignity.
The result of the assault
She bore two sons.
They came into the world
Bringing forth a river of destruction colored red with blood.
Having their father's black soul
They grew up to sell their mother
Into prostitution.
And, from that day on
She only bore daughters.
These little sisters
Were abused and
Used by their brothers
And could only become
What was their reality.
Never did they know
Their true potential.
Never did they feel
Pride, Joy, love, humanity, or humility.
My mother is dying
My brothers kill each other every day.
My mother is dying
My sisters are surviving the only reality
They know.
My Heritage, my grandfather,
My brothers have killed.
And, now they want to
Erase my memory.
The Indus valley had born forth a child.
She is dead,
So, we are all dying
poem by Rabia Minhas

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Related quotes
Born To Be Ransomed
Born to be ransomed,
Born for a reason,
On one side Love,
On the other side Security,
Mabey,
Taken to be placed elsewhere,
Or,
Mabey,
Taken to be placed with them,
Born to be ransomed,
Held ransomed by those,
For security measures of the father and mother,
So,
They are called on by the beckoning,
Of,
Those holding child held by ransomed,
Is what people do when child means,
A lot to mother and father,
Love and security in family keepings,
Born to be ransomed,
With intent to use child,
By the takers of child,
To profit and gain,
For themselves in lifes times,
When child born is then used,
Till,
Mother and father is killed,
And,
Child is then raised in a racket,
For,
What mother and father were,
And,
Left for the child when child grown,
In giving is receiving,
All that has good intentions,
Gives for good reasons,
Yet,
Why one is born to be ransomed,
Is,
The what see's and pre-desires,
The placement and life,
Of,
What two in love have made,
The unborn child then becomes,
The ransom of what wants,
What,
The two have in love and wealth,
When this goes on and child is grown,
The eyes that see and yet do not understand,
Is,
The child raised seeing all,
From,
The good ways,
To the bad ways,
To the cruel ways,
To,
The crimes committed and seen,
Is,
The eyes of seeing,
From,
Been born in a world disrupted,
Is,
A child born and ransomed,
What is of matter,
Mattering to two,
Two in love,
That,
Choose to be one,
One as in a couple,
To matter and be,
For,
What matters to them,
Is,
What brings matter of two,
To,
Become a matter of one,
A,
Child born of two,
Yet,
Now matter's to none,
But,
What ransoms the child out,
Till,
The child grew to be,
And,
Left them all behind,
Knowing,
Mother and father are dead,
Living,
Life knowing too much,
Just,
From been the ransom,
The ransom,
Of,
All,
That,
Is,
Of,
Mother and father,
Till,
All,
Of,
Mother and father's,
Income and places,
Was,
Spent and giving to others,
Tis,
Then,
Ransomed child grown,
Can,
Leave,
With noting,
But themselve,
To have some kind,
Of life,
Somewhere else,
Faraway!
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain

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Love One Another
Everybody needs a little tenderness
Everybody needs a release
From the cell they lock themselves in
Loves the only peace
Everybody needs
Everybody Cries
Everybody Bleeds
Everybody Dies
Everybody Dreams
Everybody Wakes
Everybody makes mistakes
Love one another
Sisters and brothers
Love one another
Love one another
Father and mother
Love one another
Its easier to walk away when youve
Got a wounded pride
When two people stand together
Thats how they heal inside
Try to understand
Open up your heart
A fist is just a hand
It can come apart
Let go of the past, let go of the fight
Forgiving fills the world with light
Love one another
Sisters and brothers
Love one another
Love one another
Father and mother
Love one another
We were given a world so beautiful
A deep ocean, a blue-blue sky
I know we can make it a better place
If only you and I
Love one another
Sisters and brothers
Love one another
Love one another
Father and mother
Love one another
song performed by by Cher

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ask My Mother
My eyes are red
Yet I did not smoke hemp
I have never been a smokered
Neither am I a drinkard.
But I am red in anger
Anger for my leaders.
.
They have have failed me,
They failed many a youth like me
Yes we are heading for a revolution
Revolution for a dying nation.
Ask my mother
She was here before my father.
.
When the white came
They killed my father
My sisters they raped.
They bent my brothers
Unto fields of foreign lands.
.
And I grown to know
They importants of freedom.
And I fought, me and my comrades
Again and again,
And then, the white,
They went away.
.
And then I picked them up
We picked them from the ground
Me and my brothers,
We made them our leaders
But they ended up making
themselves rulers.
.
Ask my mother, she has always
been here,
She was here when the white came,
She was also here when when they left.
poem by Efe Benjamin

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A Child Is Born
a child, a child, a child is born
to a mother who lies near death;
no food, no home, no place to go,
smell the stink of fear on her breath.
you build and destroy, and build again,
pound your chests with arrogant pride.
litigate and over populate,
sell your vision while children die.
if there's a God He doesnt live
in your temples and your shrines.
but in the cry of the hungry child,
and the ones you've left behind.
a child, a child, a child is born....
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Not Meant To Be
Thoughts are born,
yet die thereafter,
nothing more satisfying,
than that of solemn touches of death...
a child,
a cursed blessing,
A mother,
A whored Vessel,
no child into bringing,
destroyed and defiled.
Never meant to be,
Left to finish what was started,
Braving the cold,
a womb-less warmth,
lost to life’s virginity,
seconds of breaths,
left it dying,
moments so short,
yet extended toward eternity,
An infant child,
besmirched and left thoughtless,
A child only born to be named death,
Reaping the benifites of final breaths.
poem by Crimson Love

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How It Was I Came To Be What I Am
[from early poems,1970's, youthful attempts at voice]
For 'Spider' Bottas
They would argue over tides
Who bade me come into the world.
One said, Six o'clock.
The other, No, twelve.
I was born at the thirteenth hour
All the while mother arguing,
This is not the time but a little spell,
While father argued it was death,
You are dying and your child, too,
Is dying. You have been poisoned.
It was full moon and high tide,
The hour of birth.
All arguments yielded to the tide's.
The moon lit up the stadium
Of their gripes while I was
Born amidst their sweeps at
Each other, the nurse neglecting
To wipe me free of blood and salt
Being drawn into their strife.
He was born at day, one said.
No, at night, and he is a she,
Said the other. The nurse,
Speaking truthfully, said,
Cleaning me at last, No,
You are both right. The child
Is he and she, a hermaphrodite
Born of two days labor, its head
Out of the womb the duration.
Ruination! father cried.
Fame, mother sighed.
Both right, the nurse agreed,
Of these fables are made.
Then father tossed me into the sea.
The nurse saved me who later
Became my lover, hiding my
Sexes with a four leaf clover.
poem by Warren Falcon

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birth (Motherhood)
a child born with closed eyes
it was a new beginning of my life
people think a child is born
but ask me, i know a mother is born
people say that mother is precious gift of God
but ask me a child is God himself in her arms
before my child's birth my life was beautiful
but after his birth my life become precious
these are simple heap of emotions - people say this
fools! they don't understand the pleasure of being a mother
its just the same, when you see the diamond you praise its beauty
but when you own one, you come to know how precious it is!
- Pradnya
poem by Pradnya Pahurkar

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Dying For Love
Can you hear, the people sing their song
To tunes of glory, they move as one.
Refugees of liberation marching on,
Sing our song, rock the nation, write of wrongs.
When you take of life and steal its shadow, all thats
Left is humanity.
Its getting closer, change is bound to come.
Theres someone out there, holding candles to the
Sun.
Then an answer, says that peace will come around,
Stand in line, take our time and be proud.
Take a life and steal its shadow, all thats left its
Humanity
Take a man and steal tomorrow, all thats left is you
And me.
Here them call you, soldiers all in the fields of love,
Brothers, sisters, children, all dying for love.
Refugees of liberation, marching on,
Sing your song, rock the nation, write of wrongs.
Take a life and steal its shadow, all thats left is
Humanity.
Take a man and steal tomorrow, all thats left is
You and me.
Hear them call you, soldiers all in the fields of love,
Brothers, sisters, children, all dying for love.
Hear them call you, dying for love, those who know
You, dying for love,
Brothers, sisters, dying for love, saints and sinners,
Dying for love,
Dying for love.
song performed by by Black Sabbath

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Born But a Little Child
He who spoke the world into creation
He was born but a little child
With love so meek and mild
His birth brought the world a new elation
Was born to die to save all the nations
He was born but a little child
With a precious glowing smile
Was to become the church’s foundation
He was born but a little child
To reclaim the fallen world for His own
He was born but a little child
He came that true love, through Him, could be known
He was born but a little child
To take on our sins, and for them atone
((May 31st,2003))
poem by Danny Speicher

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Unwanted Child
Quiet a mistake, she was when born
She was not a rose, but an unwanted thorn
Born to a mother, that was abandoned herself
Born to a daddy, that kept whiskey on his shelf
Badly abused, her mother left him
Took her along and life was very grim
She was a thrown away child that nobody wanted
So many daddys, that she is still haunted
Abused all her life, she was finally grown
Slapped around alot, against the wall she was thrown
Every man she chose, was just like her dad
And still to this day, she stays pretty sad
Only needing to know that someone will care
She hasn't got much of a heart left, to share!
poem by Donna Nimmo

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Sonnet: Song in Memory of the Kargil-heros
O youthful soldiers of the Kargil-war!
Though some are dead, you now live in our heart;
What valor you display’d in hills afar!
By climbing mountain-sides steep with great art.
O glorious soldiers of Mother India!
Slept you eternally to make us sleep;
Shedding your blood in Himalaya;
The valley’s waters have turned blood-red, deep.
O mighty sons of sacred Indian soil
Our Mother India is proud of you all;
We cannot forget your sacrifice/ toil
By dying, you’ve preserved our frontier wall.
No more will our foes try getting across;
Your brothers too are ever-ready because.
7-25-2000
poem by John Celes

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Stories Of Hope Series #11 Adopted Child
The child was brought into this world
By an un wanting mother, did not have
any family, no sisters, no brothers.
But was adopted from birth by a woman
Who was seeking a child, and didn’t
Have any of her own for quite awhile.
This child was loved, like he could never know
Because as a mother her love she did show.
Never had a need or want for anything in life
Never knew about the mothers struggles or strife.
The child at times would question as to why
he was from a one parent family.
She told him that it was the way she wanted it to be.
She loved this child more than life itself
And in her heart this child would dwell.
Then one day before high school graduation
He had needed papers of when and where
He was born documentation.
He knew his mother kept the important
Papers in a metal box- which was always kept locked.
He found the key to the box, and opened it
Up with care, and with his mother the reason
He would share.
He found an envelope dated 1/29/92
Which was his birth date, that much he knew.
He opened the envelope and saw the heading
“ certificate of birth” on the first paper he took out.
As he opened it up and started to read
Where it said parents names, was blank as can be.
He waited for his mother to get home
And then the papers would be shown.
When she got home he asked her why there was no names?
She put her head down and said: she was to blame.
You see: you was left on the hospital steps
With a note attached to you blanket saying:
“She could not take care of you
And this was the best that she could do.”
Being a nurse in that hospital, I fell in love with you
And I went through the process to adopt you.
I have loved you from the start, and you’ve
Filled my soul and heart.
No one can love you more than I
And I will love you till the day I die.
The tears started rolling down her face
And he kissed her tears away.
He said: you are the only mother I have ever known
And because of you, I have a family.
“ that could never change for me”.
I’m so sorry that I never told you my son
And for any hurt that I may have done.
I just wanted to protect you
That is all I wanted to do.
They both shed their tears, and comforted their fears.
He said: I decided that I would go to the court of records
And change it for all to see, that you are
The only mother for me.
On his birth certificate they attached a stipulation
Which read: this woman became his mother from
The moment that he was found
And this case has become world renown.
Because of the hope she had in her heart
Her and her son got a brand new start.
HOPE IS THE KEY TO SET YOURSELF FREE
poem by Louis Rams

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The Crys
Crys are various and many-to list, it would go like this: -
The cry of a newborn just come from Heaven
The cry of the mother's joy knowing her child is born well
She holds her child to her breast to let it know that she loves the child
The cry of the father's joy holding the child in his arms
The father kissing the child on its forehead so the child can feel its father
The cry of the wolf in the woods gathering the pack together
The bleat of a mother sheep after giving birth to her child
The cry of a young boy who fell on the ice while ice skating
He had hurt himself quite badly
The cry of a little girl who fell and scraped her knee
Of all the crys in the world these are just a few
April 25,2006, Clarence A. Graham, Jr.
poem by Jr. Clarence A. Graham

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A Mother
A mother shows the child the world
A mother is its world when small
A mother shows the child what's love
A mother loves her child like a doll!
A mother makes the home and bed
A mother cares for all at home
A mother trains the child to walk
And stand on own, perfectly talk.
A mother is the teacher prime
A mother moulds the character
A mother shows the child to pray
And trust the unseen God all life.
A mother is the child's best friend
A mother knows its needs and wants
A mother cares for child when sick
And feels so proud, when child achieves.
Children, thank God for a good mother
On ‘Mother's day! '
Copyright by Dr John Celes 13-05-12
poem by John Celes

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Mother, I May Have Been A Naughty Child
Mother, I may have been a naughty child,
But I am your child nevertheless!
You own the world, mother, you are the queen of the world,
And look at me, I go about in the habit of a beggar.
You are bent on neglecting me,
But I love you anyway, it is you, only you that I call upon.
Just as a child runs to his mother even after she has scolded him,
So do I run to you.
How could you push me away from you, mother,
You are my mother, are you not?
Oh, why did you cast me away, mother,
Leave me to play in the dust?
I would have been a better child,
Had only you been a little more kind to me.
I am sad and angry, mother,
I shall go away anywhere my eyes and my feet take me to.
I do not care now whether i live or die now, mother,
I am going away.
poem by Kazi Nazrul Islam

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From the House of Yemanjá
My mother had two faces and a frying pot
where she cooked up her daughters
into girls
before she fixed our dinner.
My mother had two faces
and a broken pot
where she hid out a perfect daughter
who was not me
I am the sun and moon and forever hungry
for her eyes.
I bear two women upon my back
one dark and rich and hidden
in the ivory hungers of the other
mother
pale as a witch
yet steady and familiar
brings me bread and terror
in my sleep
her breasts are huge exciting anchors
in the midnight storm.
All this has been
before
in my mother's bed
time has no sense
I have no brothers
and my sisters are cruel.
Mother I need
mother I need
mother I need your blackness now
as the august earth needs rain.
I am
the sun and moon and forever hungry
the sharpened edge
where day and night shall meet
and not be
one.
poem by Audre Lorde

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A Child Is Dying
for every tree you cut down,
a child is dying.
for every barrel of oil that
you drill and spill,
a child is dying.
for every coal mine you
rape the earth with,
a child is dying.
for all the nuclear waste
you cannot dispose of,
a child is dying.
for every country you bomb,
a child is dying.
for every chemical you spray
on your vegetables,
a child is dying.
for every river you dam & drain,
a child is dying.
for every oil field you own,
a child is dying.
for every animal you drive
to the brink of extinction,
a child is dying.
for every smokestack, every sweatshop,
and every synthetic thought,
a child is dying.
for every tree you cut down....
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Being A Mother
MOTHER! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
MOTHER IS A WORD
MOTHER IS A PERSON
MOTHER IS A WOMEN
BUT WAT IS REALLY A MOTHER?
MOTHER! ! ! ! ! !
MOTHER IS WOMEN WHO GIVES BIRTH
NO........
MOTHER IS A WOMEN WHO CARES OF HER BABY
MOTHER IS A WOMEN WHO IS WILLING TO GIVE HER LIFE FOR THEIR BABY'S
ANY WOMEN CAN HAVE A BABY
ANY WOMEN CAN GIVE BIRTH
ANY WOMEN CAN BE CALLED MOM
BUT ONLY A REAL WOMEN
ONLY A REAL MOTHER CAN TAKE OVER HER RESPOSABILITIES
ONLY A WOMEN CAN DO WHATS BEST FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER! ! ! ! ! ! !
A MOTHER LIKE ME
A MOTHER LIKE U
A MOTHER WHO CRIES FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER WHO PRAYS FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER WHO GIVES HER LIFE FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER WHO STARVES TO FEED HER CHILD
A MOTHER WHO IS WILLING TO SLEEP IN THE COLD FOR THEIR CHILD,
A MOTHER WHO MAKES HER CHILDREN FEEL SAFE IN HER ARMS,
BEING THAT MOTHER! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
BEING THAT MOTHER TAKES ALOT OF WOMEN N A PERSON
BEING A MOTHER........
poem by Leticia Sanchez

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A Child Is Sweet Any Day Of The Week
A child that's born on a Monday
holds beauty in sight and mind.
A child that's born on a Tuesday
is graceful, sweet and kind.
A child that's born on a Wednesday
is a treasure, so they say.
A child that 's born on a Thursday
sees a quest with each new day.
A child that's born on a Friday
is loving and freely gives.
A child that's born on a Saturday
shows great work through how they live.
A child that's born on a Sunday
is happy, carefree and gay.
I guess you could say that a child is
special, no matter what the day.
poem by Christine K. Trease

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Isn't It True My Lord!
How you love me?
o Lord,
why you love me?
I am that naughty child,
I am that foolish one,
I am that playful, With dirt of ground,
On body and cloth! I am not lazy, but always crazy
always busy on this stage and
ground,
Where I play my role
and where I play my game,
sleep where I am, Whenever I feel tired,
Never bother where I am! When I fall and get pain,
now and then, I come running to
you,
Just like a kid, busy in play run to
its mother when it fall! How do you love me
O, Lord why you love me?
You love me because I am your
child,
I love you because you are my
father, mother, and my all, I am one among all,
But you are unique to me!
If I love brothers and sisters and
all, my love reaches your heart,
and you are happy with me.
Isn't it true my Lord?
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar

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