With the same spirit
Mother’s breasts to the second born
Are not the bitten apples.
Mother’s love to the second born
Is not a truncated one either.
To her second husband
Must a woman vary?
16.01.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
On the First Night
On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little carrot top,
little turned-up nose,
pushing you out of myself
as my mother
pushed
me out of herself,
as her mother did,
& her mother's mother before her,
all of us born
of woman.
I am the second daughter
of a second daughter
of a second daughter,
but you shall be the first.
You shall see the phrase
'second sex'
only in puzzlement,
wondering how anyone,
except a madman,
could call you 'second'
when you are so splendidly
first,
conferring even on your mother
firstness, vastness, fullness
as the moon at its fullest
lights up the sky.
Now the moon is full again
& you are four weeks old.
Little lion, lioness,
yowling for my breasts,
growling at the moon,
how I love your lustiness,
your red face demanding,
your hungry mouth howling,
your screams, your cries
which all spell life
in large letters
the color of blood.
You are born a woman
for the sheer glory of it,
little redhead, beautiful screamer.
You are no second sex,
but the first of the first;
& when the moon's phases
fill out the cycle
of your life,
you will crow
for the joy
of being a woman,
telling the pallid moon
to go drown herself
in the blue ocean,
& glorying, glorying, glorying
in the rosy wonder
of your sunshining wondrous
self.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nursing You
On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little carrot top,
little turned-up nose,
pushing you out of myself
as my mother
pushed
me out of herself,
as her mother did,
& her mother's mother before her,
all of us born
of woman.
I am the second daughter
of a second daughter
of a second daughter,
but you shall be the first.
You shall see the phrase
'second sex'
only in puzzlement,
wondering how anyone,
except a madman,
could call you 'second'
when you are so splendidly
first,
conferring even on your mother
firstness, vastness, fullness
as the moon at its fullest
lights up the sky.
Now the moon is full again
& you are four weeks old.
Little lion, lioness,
yowling for my breasts,
rowling at the moon,
how I love your lustiness,
your red face demanding,
your hungry mouth howling,
your screams, your cries
which all spell life
in large letters
the color of blood.
You are born a woman
for the sheer glory of it,
little redhead, beautiful screamer.
You are no second sex,
but the first of the first;
& when the moon's phases
fill out the cycle
of your life,
you will crow
for the joy
of being a woman,
telling the pallid moon
to go drown herself
in the blue ocean,
& glorying, glorying, glorying
in the rosy wonder
of your sunshining wondrous
self.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The second hand
Mother’s breasts are not virgin
To the child second born.
No stigma arises there on.
The second husband must ponder.
10.05.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nursing You
On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little carrot top,
little turned-up nose,
pushing you out of myself
as my mother
pushed
me out of herself,
as her mother did,
& her mother's mother before her,
all of us born
of woman.
I am the second daughter
of a second daughter
of a second daughter,
but you shall be the first.
You shall see the phrase
"second sex"
only in puzzlement,
wondering how anyone,
except a madman,
could call you "second"
when you are so splendidly
first,
conferring even on your mother
firstness, vastness, fullness
as the moon at its fullest
lights up the sky.
Now the moon is full again
& you are four weeks old.
Little lion, lioness,
yowling for my breasts,
rowling at the moon,
how I love your lustiness,
your red face demanding,
your hungry mouth howling,
your screams, your cries
which all spell life
in large letters
the color of blood.
You are born a woman
for the sheer glory of it,
little redhead, beautiful screamer.
You are no second sex,
but the first of the first;
& when the moon's phases
fill out the cycle
of your life,
you will crow
for the joy
of being a woman,
telling the pallid moon
to go drown herself
in the blue ocean,
& glorying, glorying, glorying
in the rosy wonder
of your sunshining wondrous
self.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hinduism
Mukthi as the end; you are at the front.
O mother O mother all are on the run.
Renunciation as the means; all else are only dreams.
O mother O mother you are at the reign.
Fearlessness in your scriptures; put all others in ruptures.
O mother O mother you are sending shivers.
Oneness as the truth; what more is there to search.
O mother O mother this is what you vouch.
Religion is realisation; everything else only make sensation.
O mother O mother grandeur is your definition.
Spirituality in the air; whatelse can we aspire.
O mother O mother you are present everywhere.
Noble thoughts from you; the world owes all to you.
O mother O mother all has taken only from you.
We are the divine force; what more can be the driving force.
O mother O mother all are from the same source.
I need boons two; one to be born to you.
O mother O mother should be my cry next time too.
poem by S. Ashok Kumar
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My Story
I was born in a year
Of a great depression,
.
My parents were born here
A life made of deprivation,
.
Dave, gave me my name;
By instructions of my mother
.
My mother told me all about
My runaway father,
.
My mother did her best
To bring me up better,
.
My mother told me
I would be a leader
- a speaker
- a fighter,
.
I left my mother' s home
To search for survival,
.
Sam said I have become
A great photographer,
.
I have a craving for the arts
And poems that don't rhyme.
poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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A Mother's Love
New born
Dogs...
Play for
I 'ts mother...
Jump
And walk...
wow...
wow...
speak...
BiteAnd drink
Milk is
Mother...
A love
Lovely...
Mother dog
Simply the toung
Touch to touch
A catch the
Mother's love...!
Animals also
Lovingely mother's...
Its true...
Mother's loves is true now...?
Human are animal
Are not thear...
With the love....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother
Everybody utter
They love their mother
Many of them
Do not respect woman
One who is a mother to other?
Or one day
Shall become a mother
A mother is a mother
Same sacrifices same pains
She has to bear
May be a king
May be a pauper
None could exist
Without a woman
Known as a mother
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Heavens Over Lighthouses
Sounds of your memory—what does
It mean, all of those diseases:
Thinking and thinking of Colorado
Where my mother was born outside of Denver—
In just a little slip of a vale—
In a house next to a house built by a blind man—
Against all of those busied echoes up against
The canyons:
Maybe she was in love with her brother when she
Was in her youngest years:
But she graduated high school, got married
And had children—and her husband—her husband
Is my father:
Man from
Michigan—fat as a hummingbird over the used car
Ports and junk yards—while all of the time
Around his neck a beautiful sun weighing him down like
A jewel—
He was too busied to understand,
Or to truly be in love with her: my mother—my mother—
Windmills turn in the heavens—over lighthouses
And libraries—but what is there left to say?
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Being A Mother Means
Being a mother means when you pray for your children God will hear
Being a mother means that you can give a hug when they are near
Being a mother means endless chores
But always with love and it should be something we adore
Being a mother means unconditional love
Even though they do aweful things
Being a mother means we remember the day they were born
Being a mother means they are a gift to cherish, one that we should Not ignore
poem by Zelda Gerkin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Smell Of Love
I was born anked into this world and i live in the valley of love,
You were born aromantic and you live in the valley of romance;
So come and let is share the sweet sense of love.
I am a woman with the matured breasts like sweet apples,
And your passion of love is like the sweet honey;
So come and let us join our nakedness together on this love,
Come and swimm in this red sea of mine all day.
For this sweert sense of love needs only you to be around with me,
Come and let your honey flow to me like the sweet milk of love;
For you are all tha t it takes to make me feel all right.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I still need a mother
I need a mother who would love me
I need a mother who would take care of me
I need a mother who would understand me
I need a mother for who I am
I need a mother to know me
I need a mother who would be there for me
I need a mother who would not yell at her son
I need a mother who won't push her son away
I need a mother who would not throw me out of her life
Even though I still need a mother
Everyday I try to be nice
Sometime she don't care about me
What I need is a mother who would be there for me
I need a mother who would watch me grow
I need a mother who would celebrate my birthday
I need a mother who would miss me
I need a mother to cry on
I need a mother to know that her son loves her
But she won't let me know her
What I need is a mother
Who is no more now.
poem by Bikramjyoti Kashyop
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I still need a mother
I need a mother who would love me
I need a mother who would take care of me
I need a mother who would understand me
I need a mother for who I am
I need a mother to know me
I need a mother who would be there for me
I need a mother who would not yell at her son
I need a mother who won't push her son away
I need a mother who would not throw me out of her life
Even though I still need a mother
Everyday I try to be nice
Sometime she don't care about me
What I need is a mother who would be there for me
I need a mother who would watch me grow
I need a mother who would celebrate my birthday
I need a mother who would miss me
I need a mother to cry on
I need a mother to know that her son loves her
But she won't let me know her
What I need is a mother
Who is no more now.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Honour to Women
The woman is my mother,
She is the wife of my father.
The woman is my wife,
She is also the mother of my children.
I love my mother,
My children love their mother, too;
So, I respect my beloved wife.
Every woman with the veil of Mother is honoured by all,
Heaven lying at the feet of mother, every woman moves proudly.
poem by Supanul Islam Supan
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Mother's love...
Once a mother’s son
Fell in love with a whore
She robbed him of all his belongings
He was left with nothing more.
That woman’s heart
was full of lust and desire
not able to fulfill her demands
He found himself in mire.
One day he promised
To bring her anything that she wanted
Hearing this, the woman felt exalted
it was his mother’s heart
that she now demanded.
Blind in her love
the son agreed
To fulfill her desire
born out of
jealously and greed.
The son demanded from his mother her heart
Said he would die without his lover’s love
Mother moved by his son’s dilemma
Cut her chest and gave him her heart
Said, my son, this from your mother
to you with love.
The Son had a gleam in his eyes
In his hand he held his mother’s heart high
He slipped while going to visit the whore
He and the heart both fell on the floor.
The son stood up
And neatly tucked in his shirt
The heart worriedly asked
Are you alright my son?
I hope you are not hurt!
(10.09.2011; New Delhi; India)
poem by Anshul Gupta
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Woman A Mother
in the ambiance of the night, you are born,
beyond each lovers dream where you stay,
waiting your gift to give, a simple little life
that never would be
a dream of creation that one have to awake
for a little child i will give, to you i make,
a descendant as many as the sand in the sea.
i choose you for you to know that i
the Lord is worthy to be free
oh! a perfect woman. a mother that
only you can do, that world renewed
for a mother like you is always waiting
to see the things that the Lord had made
the world fulfilled
take the yoke i give, to carry the passion zeal i take
for in you a mother of men, i will make a covenant that
only you can make. rejoice! allelulia! in the most high for,
a woman like me worhty to be love to the Lord i love
woman a mother a wonderful name above other name
in the creation I made. only you can make,
the gift of life i give.... woman a mother
poem by Antonio Liao
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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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What a mother should be
A mother is the one who loves you
A mother puts no drug above you
A mother will never make you cry
A mother will never make you want to die
A mother will help you fight your fears
A mother will help you stop your tears
A mother will keep you safe and sound
A mother will never let you down
A mother will daily say I love you
A mother won’t say I hate you
A mother won’t wish you were dead
A mother won’t forget what you said
A mother won’t close the door
A mother won’t let you be poor
Now I ask you, do you have a mother?
Cause’ I don’t, so don’t bother.
poem by Carlisa Smith
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Just Like Yesterday
Seems just like yesterday
The cry of a woman,
A beautiful African woman
Was heard, bound by labour,
Of fulfilling the countinuity of life.
Seems like yesterday
A child squealed his first cry
Submitting to the suffering of the world
To acknowlwedge the strength of the mother
Seems just like yesterday
She felt like a woman
As she heard the cry of her baby
Cudding him at her breasts
And acknowledging the beauty of nature
Seems just like yesterday
I, myself was born by a woman
Breast fed by a woman
And, I acknowledge the beauty
Of a Woman and nature and God.
poem by Uchenna Nnodum
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