Mothers

Mothers

in all their blind-driven, driven blind caresses

And plaster-stuck, never-empty chests of neverminds

Sleep, never again, each night of their mother life.

 

Bedraggled

as a May blackbird, hopping half-starved and careless

to gain a moment singing a whisper to the moon,

fall into a womb convoluted drowse

 

Washing

down and fending off the black years

of sheets and pants and vodka-soaked,

disregarding doors-in face fuck offs.

 

Goodbyes

and whys and cries from car window eyes

sweet-stale duvets and uniformed snaps,

receive weeping nightly visitations.

 

Mothers

soak and sponge sadness and surliness

to squeeze out love tears like clouds

from a never-ending autumn sky

Comments

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Vautaw

Tue 21st May 2019 20:21

The rhythm reads like a bittersweet melody stuck in my head for eternity. Thank you for sharing these mesmerizing words that bring an alternative perspective to mothering. ❤

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Rose Casserley

Tue 21st May 2019 18:56

being a mother Mike I can easily relate to this very well written poem accurately describing all of the ups and downs of motherhood.







Rose 💋

jennifer Malden

Tue 21st May 2019 17:12

Great writing - but you must have had a dreadful childhood, or been a very reluctant parent! I have two and it wasn't all like that.

Jennifer

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