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Mother (1 Viewer)

TheMightyAz

Mentor
Mother

I was glad when my Mother died.
I was happy that I grieved.
A reflection of everything buried,
A doorway for the deceived.
She said ‘hello’ with a spoon full of life.
I said ‘goodbye’ with a spoon full of joy.
I saw the woman slip from her skin
She saw the growing of her little boy
I was glad when my Mother died.
It showed me love without end,
Poured from the scales of existence,
Weighed by my very best friend.
 

happy-hippie

Senior Member
I've tried so many times to write a poem about my mother and I've hated every single one of them. This is no exception. I like the naked truth about death and grief but it's still feels inadequate.

Hmmm. What is it you think is missing from the poem; what are you trying to express that you are not seeing(I realize that this is a very sensitive topic, so you don't have to answer me directly-just something to think about)?

or

Maybe it's not the poems. What I mean is, words are inadequate; they are only approximations of our inner experience and reality; they can only give us glimpses...You're comparing the depth of your relationship with words that can never capture it fully, and in that light, your poems will always fall short. Even though this poem is very evocative and gives so much to the reader....it will never measure up to all that you knew the relationship to be. Maybe that's why you're dissatisfied?
 

TheMightyAz

Mentor
Hmmm. What is it you think is missing from the poem; what are you trying to express that you are not seeing(I realize that this is a very sensitive topic, so you don't have to answer me directly-just something to think about)?

or

Maybe it's not the poems. What I mean is, words are inadequate; they are only approximations of our inner experience and reality; they can only give us glimpses...You're comparing the depth of your relationship with words that can never capture it fully, and in that light, your poems will always fall short. Even though this poem is very evocative and gives so much to the reader....it will never measure up to all that you knew the relationship to be. Maybe that's why you're dissatisfied?

I feel that if I am going to write a poem about my mother AND feel good about it, it's got to be when I'm much better at writing, and have had much longer to unpack life. I'm 62 but still have lots of layers to dig through.
 

Jk_Sl

Senior Member
Mother

I was glad when my Mother died.
I was happy that I grieved.
A reflection of everything buried,
A doorway for the deceived.
She said ‘hello’ with a spoon full of life.
I said ‘goodbye’ with a spoon full of joy.
I saw the woman slip from her skin
She saw the growing of her little boy
I was glad when my Mother died.
It showed me love without end,
Poured from the scales of existence,
Weighed by my very best friend.

Thank you, this brings back
so many childhood memories , beautiful words.

J.
 
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