Make me cry

Mommy Please Come Home

Ramen in the cabinet
pancake powder to be stirred
just add a little water
give it a little whir.

Ten years old, and yes, I can!
I can use the stove
I can watch tv for hours
and hours, all alone.

I can watch as other kids
flip and flap their feet
giggling and galavanting
playing down the street.

Alone and alienated
forced to always stay alone
hours slide by into night
Mommy, please come home.

She cares enough to
keep me here, afraid to let me out.
If I were to go missing, what
would they all talk about?

How she left me by myself
all day, alone for me to fend
and all I ever wanted
was my mother or a friend.

And finally, she does come home
I've cried and begged and pled
Just long enough to kiss goodnight
and time to go to bed.

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/212699-mommy-please-come-home/

Olly Olly Oxen Free

The saddest thing    
I can't even remember    
I was six    
she was there    
my mom    
and then she wasn't    
no one will tell me    
when she'll be back    
or where she has gone    
just the Lord's Prayer    
said by my bedside    
to help me along    
   
Now a middle-aged man    
I still cry bitter tears    
I can't remember her    
only pictures    
it seems we had a good time    
when will the yearning stop?    
when will the hole be filled?    
by and by    
I'm told    
by and by    

Funeral For A Friend

(This piece, based on the Elton John song of the same name, is best read while listening to the music

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=3p_xAToFzck

Solemni Pompa

Under a dark gray sky
the mourners come
beckoned by the church bell's toll
and a distant organ's lament
undeterred by the chill Winter wind
they come to remember
the life of a friend

Alta Tristitiam

The church doors swing wide
the mourners enter in
greeted by the anguished dirge
of the thunderous organ
played in a vain attempt
to quicken the dead
and banish the demons within

Spera Triumphi

A single white dove
is released into the gloom
as if the soul rises triumphant
from the dearly departed
and travels upward to paradise
only to return on Resurrection day

Miseratiónum Monimentum

The pews now filled
with family and friends
the tender requiem begins
what a wonderful father he was
a devoted husband too
a poem is read
his favorite hymn is sung
projected images are viewed


Lamentatione Flebili

The grieving wife loudly weeps
rushing to the coffin
crying NO! NO! NO!
others join in sobbing
the widow turns to meet their gaze
the tear stained faces
of many women she doesn't know

Celebratio

Close friends ascend the pulpit
to celebrate his life well lived
funny things he said
crazy things he did
the sound of his laughter
the warmth of his smile
memories that keep him alive

Laetus Exitus
 
Fueled by happy thoughts of him
smiling the pall bearers lift the casket
on shoulders they carry
his eternal vessel
not as a box with a corpse inside
but as the victorious hero of the game

Pompa Sepulturae

The mourners turned celebrants
follow their friend’s mortal shell
outside and into the ancient church yard
made glorious by the sun’s rays
penetrating the dark sky
as if heaven has descended
to welcome him home

Ultimum Vale

Family and friends encircle
the newly dug grave
nestled between ancestors
long since departed
the final resting place is blessed

the widow overcome with grief
christens the coffin lid
with a handful of soil
she kisses a single red rose
her tears, like morning dew
glisten on its delicate petals
she places it near his heart
as he is lowered into the ground

Constant

no one knows this pain,
constant
breaking this broken heart,
indiscriminately
in a fetal position I lie,
a perfect picture of heartbreak
weeping
drowning
waning
dying
in infinite misery,
torn apart
ripped apart
stepped on
trampled on
I am the lingering aromatic
of loves once true love
before he died inside of me
still brings about an absolute suffering;
and no matter how many times
someone says it’s going to be alright
they don’t understand the vacant hole
residing in the center of my soul
and how it refuses to mend
broken
vagrant
violent
empty
I am

sympatico to your words

Alone and shivering
in a tin-shack hut
with the beating rain
an ever continuous pelting
and rain-water dripping through.

I didn't have enough time
to make it out onto open road
pay-day'd take as long as the four day walk to the nearest atm.
At least the fire hasn't gone out,
at least I didn't kill somebody.

Somebody or something
my god is either edible.

old or new poem FallenAngle?

Breaking and Weeping

I am down on my knees
On the verge of abominable grief,
I holler for aid,
Please mend my diluted heart
That bleeds internally
Or I will fall and cry

I never violated such dignity,
I succumbed with loyalty,
Yet I was nailed emotionally
Producing an intrinsic scar,
Should it make me cry?

My powers relinquished
Not by my own will,
Concealing under my sheets
No one can empathize my suffering,
Inquiring if a sign of Valkyries
Will obtain me
Since I am defeated,
Will I cry forever?

Do not ask me how I spent the night.
A Moment was like century,
Century spent. Still couldn't sleep.
Do not ask me how I spent the night.

Burning one candle, another my heart
Still the room's dark
Yearning, compassion happened,
And lived my life so far.

Neither moon nor stars, ain't nowhere
Not even the sun brought any light
Little spark is all my eyes thirst
Do not ask me how I spent the night.

"Where is daddy" the baby girl asked
after being whisked away abruptly and fast
Taken at the age of three
She never understood why it came to be

"I want daddy" the little girl asked
when she turned four, over and over, her mother was aghast
She had ripped her away from the only home she knew
and her daddy; she hid her when he came, out of view

"Why don't I have a daddy" the little girl asked
when she started school, the first stone had been cast
She was different, half Italian and chubby
She wanted to see his face; she was the only one at school without a daddy

"What did he say" the little girl's mother asked
monitoring calls that her daddy made, she dared not sass
He always asked if she was being nice to the nuns at school
and what she liked to do for fun, that was the rule

"Talk to your father" the little girl's mother asked
She was eleven, and the man on the phone had an accent and spoke fast
He always said that he loved her and missed her so much
But her mother never told her anything good about him as such

"Let me see what he sent you" the little girl's mother asked
A guitar, a bracelet, potato chips and candy, and enough coloring markers to last
He had begun to cry on the phone, but she did not know why
saying how much he wished that he could have said goodbye

"Give me that phone; what did he say?" the little girl's mother asked
She did not know it yet, but for this twelve year old girl, the final stone had been cast
Her mother told him to never call again
No more letters, no more gift boxes, no more phone calls came again from him

"Your father died today" the sixteen-year-old girl's mother said
No hugs, no words, just home from school, she went upstairs to cry on her bed
She had planned to go to him in New York City when she turned eighteen
But he was found on the floor of his apartment two days after her birthday; to her, his face was never seen

My dearest, come home to me
from the grave.
I drown in sorrow without you.
Consumed by loneliness and remorse.
Knowing that it should have been me,
Death was to take.
What you would have been,
so much better than me.
One shot to murder my soul.
No more love to give, my heart broken.

How could I have known?
Your crying haunts my dreams.
With every breath I think of you and yet
I cannot comfort you.
Scars on my skin.
Failed attempts to reunite with you.
A coward.

I should have been there.
It should have been me.
My dream that death will reunite us.
I hope I never awake.
To deliver me from this despair.
So that I may kiss you again.
Will this pain never end.

Dusts in my Eyes

darkness cloaks the day
night's curtain falls
pillow hugged
to snuggle with
alone again

dusts in my eyes
the tears freely flow
I don't know why
emptiness chosed to stay
alone again

death smiles
standing at my bed
I'm always here
Scythe man whispers
and I turn away

I will travel my own pace
to my final destination
no slitting wrists and flying down
a short cut to the end
even if I am in pain

Dusts in my eyes
travelling down the highway
alone.

NEVER
People say "Never say never" but I never agree
Because never again will I be where I wanna be
Never to hold, never to live
Never have love so never could give
Never again will I ever go there
To that place where I was, a place without a care
Never could be and never could feel
What I had inside, so unbelievably real
Never again content and constantly blue
Cos I know never again will I have you

"38 Days."

Every year around your birthday, I fall apart
and don't mean to
I start thinking about the short 38 days I had
you; how they were wonderful my first child

I can still remember the first time I saw
you; you were the most beautiful thing I'd
ever saw

38 days I held you close, fell
asleep with you on my chest
never away from you till I went
to work

Anthony my baby, my son;
Mommy is so sorry she
couldn't keep you safe,

I have carried that
guilt for 15 years

One thing I can assure you of
is that Mommy has always...

Loved You

The day I lost you was the worst one
of many in this event, but four families
are together because of my choice:
see I made you an organ-donor

One little boy got your lungs; one your
liver;

A baby girl got your little intestine, and one
your heart; as much of a mess as I was when I
lost you I could not think of another Mother
having to go through losing her baby too

Every year as I watch your sisters grow I
find my self wondering what your voice would
sound like as you say, "Mommy I Love You,"

Would you be tall or short, skinny or fat

Baby I almost lost everything when I lost
you; for a short time I lost me too

Baby boy how I wish we had more time,
but I am thankful for my 38 days I had
you as mine

In Memorial of: Anthony Wayne Thompson
Born 24, September 2000   Deceased 1, November 2000