Poetry Blogs (daughter)
Stephen Gospage on Bob was a cut above his fellow pupils at his new school (5 hours ago)
Your polo shirt is slightly askew.
Eyeliner you try and hide.
My daughter baby’s prime;
we have fought for this.
You now sit in classrooms,
open windows, warmth drained.
Queue, face mask clad, in corridors
dreaming of seeing faces
The boy you pass notes to
you are no longer free to kiss
or find the ecstasy in another.
Your childhood is on hold.
Monday 19th October 2020 12:41 pm
Forgive me, for not
being the mother
you needed me to be.
For being too busy,
too naive to see
what was happening
in front of me.
For being silent
when your father
screamed and demeaned.
For when I thought it
was sweet that your
boyfriend carried you
to your room when you
For not enough hugs
and too many lectures.
For not seeing the signs
Friday 17th May 2019 3:29 pm
The day I met you
My soul awoke;
a sound of crying so joyous I could cry myself
The thought of opening my eyes
without the sound this little life I created would be just as scary as it was
when she had opened hers in the first
moments of life
She lit up my night sky
She came to me with golden hair
The color people would dye to have
For her, I'd die a million times to have also
Tuesday 11th December 2018 2:00 pm
I see the opening of your mind's eye,
glittering like a starry sky.
Asking yourself, how high?
The iron will that says, I try.
Go my darling, you'll fly.
Full of joy, I cry.
The apple of your father's eye.
Wednesday 10th October 2018 11:16 pm
The wind blew us away,
but we stayed sure footed.
Evening drew in
as dark clouds swam
in post storm
a God dwelling sky.
We built shelter
for your game,
The way you faced
made me so proud.
We the warrior queens,
wanting nothing but this.
By Emma-Jane Stradling
Thursday 5th October 2017 9:54 am
Thursday 7th May 2015 12:24 pm
What is an alcoholic?
When I was 2 you were all I knew
I had no idea what the bubbly juice was
But I knew it was good and it came from you
At 3 I can only remember seeing you hyper
Never understood your words were you speaking proper?
I don’t know what happened but mommy had to go
Now im just left here no soul 3 years old.
Grandma and Grandpa are extremely nice
Spent 10 ...
Thursday 7th May 2015 5:30 am
Trisha M. Hopkins
Dedicated to my mother Christine Barrek
I love you mom
I remember Back then
When i was a kid
The memories i hold
On everything i did
And the stories my mommy told
Tucking me into bed
Saying sweet dreams love you and don't let the bed bugs bite
Then before leaving the room
She'd kiss me on my forehead
And i'd reply with "love you and good-night
Monday 9th February 2015 12:54 am
Trisha M. Hopkins
Waiting for him, sitting in the car
Under the erie moonlight
Imagening what he'll do
Seing him in the distance, Seeing him in the night
His mind shouting "I'm going to get you!"
He sees himself going after the man
He sees himself dragging him, dragging, dragging
Tying the man up
Everything is so dim
Under the erie moonlight
Torching him almos...
Monday 9th February 2015 12:23 am
If I asked you if you loved me
would you mean every word you spoke.
If I asked you if you thought of me
- your distant child-
would I find that special moment
when you thought of me so dearly.
But if you ask me if I loved you
there wouldn't be any words
that could express my feelings
I have towards you, just silence in reply.
And if you asked me if I thought of you,
you would see tears ...
Wednesday 22nd October 2014 2:26 am
You are sunkissed hair
All seaside skin
The tomboy princess
Scraped knees, bruised shins.
A tree climbing angel
My hide and seek belle
All beauty and promise
Like an old wishing well.
Such a natural leader
As you're learning and growing
You shine like a beacon
So head strong and knowing.
Bringing joy in abundance
As I watch you develop
Wednesday 16th July 2014 11:25 am
The bayonet. I've had it a decade. There's provenance here... not written I'm afraid. My mate Richard, who I went to school with in 82-87, had a lovely sister. Lorraine. from a different dad. He was a soldier in the British army. He's dead now. He collected weapons, guns and knives. His wife asked Richard what to do with them. Some were real guns. I said tell any cops the guns are fake...
Friday 8th November 2013 10:19 pm