Poetry Blogs (family)

Superstition

imagine 6 kids
walking hand in hand
two by two

four girls
two boys
behind Ma.

We sing out loud
'Step on a crack,
break your mother's back'.

We joy fully avoid
still hand in hand
the pavement cracks.

Ma turns and says
'You all shut up'
and we do.

f

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Sitting to the east

Sloping down to the edge  

Of that other world

In the summer sun

In the winter chill

The sentinel watched over

The little family in the cottage in the hollow

Lately it had felt her sorrow  

It knew when she left Pant y Lleiniau

And walked slowly along the cart track

To reach the little bridge under the trees

Where she crossed Nant yr Efail ...

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The numb thump of my heart beating against my rib cadge, 

Unknown pain of sadness always giving me rage.

Desperately grasping at the last memories that I had with you,

Tears roll down my face when I find thats an issue.

The blood in my veins is so hard to contain, 

The thoughts of death flood through to my brain.

Hard to fight past the devil inside of me, 

I promise my na...

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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 
"fell asleep".

For not enough hugs
and too many lectures.

For not seeing the signs
of addict...

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I have the feeling again

I need to bleed these words out of me

Now that I have reached that age

Spoken of with such pain and rage

Sitting here tippity-tap

Oh, what is it, dear?

It's me, it's me,

It was always me

And that is my deepest fear

What do we want

When we are so very small

Every coo, every crawl

Is a mountainous haul

And the cheers, oh they come!

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In a previous century my grandfather died

Only weeks after my great uncle.

A few weeks later, my grandmother

Made a quick trip to the grocery store

And returned to find her house in flames.

Having lost her brother, husband, and home

In a matter of weeks, my uncle Skeet

(so known because as a child he was

No bigger than a mosquito or “skeeter")

Tried to comfort his s...

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For some, the writer's plight may be staring at a blank page, fear of rejection, or resistance presented in various forms. For me, the writer's plight is being available morning, noon, and night to welcome a steady stream of pop-in visitors with expectations of providing conversation, cooking, cleaning, even childcare for hours on end.

With a Mona Lisa smile, I weigh the importance of what my d...

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I watch you silently

Tears sparkling in your eyes

I wonder if you want the comfort

When you won’t tell me why (you cry)

You go about the day

As normal as can be

I wonder how you smile

But I know the truth inside (you cry)

Your voice seldom wavers

And your friends never see

But alone you start to lose the mask

And I can see the cracks (you hide)

I ...

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Road crashes are every minute 
Here and there, in every point 
More than a million killed a year 
And speed is death, no doubt 

“Drive Safely” is only choice 
ٍSafety belt, has no "price" 
Come back safe for the family 
We live "once", not twice 

Road is not real excuse 
But the behavior is a main cause 
For crashes all over that world 
No more anger .. no abuse
 

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She stares at the ocean.

The waves crashing and falling.

Crumbling, Like an avalanche.

Everything falling apart.

For you can’t ride the boat.

You are imobile.

People do everything for you.

A King they would murmur. 

Chasing you, begging for your attention.

Although you fear publicity.

But when that crocodile ran you up that tree

did you dare to b...

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I've been asking myself a question, lately 

About what it is that I want

Because when I look inside myself

I see no aspirations of fame

No want for success 

Instead I see the plates of food I fixed

The worn pages of books I've read

I see a bright day and tall clouds

The wind blowing the pollen 

The sunlight cutting through

I see trees gnarled and thick,  muddy paths

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Translation of my Arabic Poem (“The Choice”) 

Who, in the World, chooses his birth? 
Who chooses his family and children? 
Who chooses his fate and country? 
Who chooses the time to go to heaven? 

But it is possible to choose our day 
To sincerely care about family and work 
This will be the first right step to our future 
To achieve our goals while we're alive 

Your name and countr...

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One of my favorite games 
to play as a child 
was seeing shapes 
in the clouds: 

Dogs, cats, 
elephants, giraffes, 
airplanes, unicorns... 

It was one of the 
few pleasures 
of my childhood. 

As I grew up, 
I began to see 
scarier things:
 
Dragons, demons, 
torn hearts,
flaming arrows... 

Now in the archway 
of my golden years, 
I see beauty that 
brings me to tears:

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I inhale the tears 
welling up in my eyes.
Feeling like I don't have 
the right to cry for 

letting so much time go by
without saying hi,
how are you doing, 
what's new in your life?

I "kept in touch" 
watching your 
adventures
on social media, 

restoring 
power
after a 
hurricane, 

providing water 
and food for 
people who didn't 
know your name.

I was proud of you,
...

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The Theater

Today, we're together 

Tomorrow, we're apart 

As Cinema .. as the Theater, 

An End for the Start 

Thanks to God for Life 

To work .. earn and learn 

Pray .. to keep Survive 

Happiness to reach and Yearn 

Surely, you're assigned 

For a role to achieve a goal 

Unless you've that mind 

You need to heal your soul

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You do not exist anymore 

Scientifically speaking, 

You are absolutely nothing 

Unconscious, intangible, not there. 

You exist in my mind, 

Poetically speaking, 

You live on through that funny anecdote

That recipe, that legacy, our memory.  

You are my tragic backstory, 

Therapeutically speaking, 

The key to solving why I am the way I am 

What you made me...

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The words that come out of my mouth
Sometimes they just fall out
And I can't tell if they really belong to me

Sometimes I hear my voice
Because my mind gives me no choice
But to say all these things I don't really believe

The baggage claim has my name
Written all over it
What a shame I lost the game
Before I had the chance to blow it 

He never felt the need
To check for monsters b...

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He thought

All I want is here

the tree that reaches the ceiling:

with the decorations the boy had helped hang

and the lights he could reach

to pull off

He thought

I hope they like my gifts

the presents beneath the low branches:

with the labels that the girls had turned over

and peeped at to see

which was theirs

He thought

I am alone with Christmas

the many...

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