Thread: Stupid Mug

My mother
was a terrible mother.

I am sure
that there are much worse parents
but I always marvel
how this woman knows just how
to get under my skin -

growing rapidly
consuming flesh
sullying everything
that she comes in contact with.

I no longer speak to her.

Just a few treacherous words
will spread like sweet poison throughout your blood,
contaminating all thoughts.
Better to just
press the delete button
before hearing even one word.

She sends my brother
to do her bidding.
To deliver a gift.

"Just a Christmas gift, something sweet
to remind you that I love you."

What she feels is not that pure emotion
that moves people to change
and emerge into someone strong -

It is greed; possession.
I was a needle
pushed through a condom -
One crazy person's sad attempt
to keep another crazy person.

The gift.
It was a mug.

I remember the time
that I broke one of her favorite mugs
on the kitchen floor.
I was very young,
easily reduced to tears.

I sat there silently,
screamed at for hours.

Since then
I have inserted a strong rod of metal
inside my flesh -
a backbone, if you will.

Yet I was saddened to see
just how much
that stupid mug affected me today.

A very sad situation, which as a mother upsets me. I try to always be there for my children and hope they will come to me if they need me

A few thoughts, merely my perspective so only change if you agree.

My mother
was a terrible mother. I wonder here about the use of past tense, since she is still alive and good or bad still your mother.

I am sure
that there are much worse parents I would keep the focus on her rather than other people. Does it matter if there are worse parents - she is the only one you have.
but I always marvel
how this woman knows just how
to get under my skin - a bit cliche. Can you show this

growing rapidly
consuming flesh
sullying everything
that she comes in contact with.

I no longer speak to her.

Just a few treacherous words
will spread like sweet poison throughout your blood,
contaminating all thoughts.
Better to just
press the delete button
before hearing even one word.

She sends my brother
to do her bidding.
To deliver a gift.

"Just a Christmas gift, something sweet
to remind you that I love you."

What she feels is not that pure emotion
that moves people to change
and emerge into someone strong -

It is greed; possession.
I was a needle
pushed through a condom -
One crazy person's sad attempt
to keep another crazy person.

The gift.
It was a mug.

I remember the time maybe - it reminds me of the time
that I broke one of her favorite mugs
on the kitchen floor.
I was very young,
easily reduced to tears.

I sat there silently,
screamed at for hours. sad image. Could picture the terrified child

Since then
I have inserted a strong rod of metal
inside my flesh - inside my flesh gives an odd image
a backbone, if you will.

Yet I was saddened to see
just how much
that stupid mug affected me today. can you show how the mug affected you. It would give a more powerful ending

Hope something helps. Thanks for the read and a happy Christmas to you

Gee, Damien, I hope this isn't true. I agree with Shadows regarding changing the was to is in the first stanza. I also agree that the last stanza is a bit telly. This piece disturbed me greatly. The image of the child being scolded so is very clear and Mom's sweet message accompanying a gift to haunt is downright despicable. Again, love, I hope this isn't true, you've captured the woman's veiled nastiness superbly. Merry Christmas, hon.

Best,
Lisa

What she feels is not that pure emotion
that moves people to change
and emerge into someone strong -

It is greed; possession.
I was a needle
pushed through a condom -
One crazy person's sad attempt
to keep another crazy person.

This is very strong and bleak image, I loved it!

First off, I really liked this poem. I feel like it isn't finished yet however. After reading it a few times I feel like there are areas where you should have gone into a little more detail or used some examples. For instance, right in the beginning, I wanted to know what made your mother so horrible compared to others. and again in the last stanza, I wanted to know how the mug affected you. If you just add a few specific details this poem will be perfect. I loved your use of language and the images you created in this poem. good work.

There is more to come out of this poem I think, the potential of it is almost teasing me. I'm too tired to do a detailed critique now but I will be back to it, it's a good solid foundation for a piece that could pack a heavy punch.