deepundergroundpoetry.com
A War Widow’s Song and Single Parent’s Prayer
Under the soft amber glow of the night light,
his angelic sweet brown face is lost in dream;
tonight and every night, I watch in proud silence;
asking why then, does my smile not beam?
Instead, I stand there teary-eyed, bated breath;
rehearsing and repeating over and over again
a litany of answers to a medley of questions
I know will come as my little boy becomes a man.
My son, I want to keep you safe and make you strong;
and be your very everything, knowing well I never can;
I can empower and instill in you, self-worth and pride,
how to give and get respect, but never how to be a man.
I can bestow upon you a woman's perspective realities,
perceptions, hopes, and views, the differences it seems
between the stereotypical and real-life good black men;
give insight to qualities to make a "man of our dreams.".
I can clothe and feed you, hug you tightly if you cry;
be near to comfort, console and chase away your fears;
and give you my heart if ever yours suffers or breaks;
throughout your days turn weeks turn months turn years.
He stirs softly, tightly wrapped in the arms of Morpheus,
i smile faintly before sighing, as reality slaps my face;
I can't give you the man-to-man, or explain a "wet dream";
fulfill your deepest need; nor a missing dad, can I replace.
No matter how much tender love and sensitivity I give my son,
I can neither replace nor substitute what a boy really needs.
suddenly, I’m no longer teary-eyed, though full teardrops fall;
time nears for my morph into hypocrite, to show joy as he reads.
He'll read how his hero-father marched proudly away with honor
to duty of service to all, protecting freedom, homes and lives;
he will look at those shiny medals, touch them and flag, too;
he'll see my face all aglow, but not my skin erupt with hives.
I won't let him see or feel my pained anger, horror or sorrow;
or, gaping emptiness derived from all those reminders of death,
or, my outrage at today's government, unfair, unjust, unhealthy
and probably will still be so the day of my baby's last breath.
I hate this stupid senseless war, so many lives it has ruined;
and every war, for the multitude of single parents left behind!
Tonight, as every night, I leave him, whispering this prayer;
please God, for children and single parents, make life kind.
GreenLipstick
(All rights reserved by DDM Ent., 2003)
his angelic sweet brown face is lost in dream;
tonight and every night, I watch in proud silence;
asking why then, does my smile not beam?
Instead, I stand there teary-eyed, bated breath;
rehearsing and repeating over and over again
a litany of answers to a medley of questions
I know will come as my little boy becomes a man.
My son, I want to keep you safe and make you strong;
and be your very everything, knowing well I never can;
I can empower and instill in you, self-worth and pride,
how to give and get respect, but never how to be a man.
I can bestow upon you a woman's perspective realities,
perceptions, hopes, and views, the differences it seems
between the stereotypical and real-life good black men;
give insight to qualities to make a "man of our dreams.".
I can clothe and feed you, hug you tightly if you cry;
be near to comfort, console and chase away your fears;
and give you my heart if ever yours suffers or breaks;
throughout your days turn weeks turn months turn years.
He stirs softly, tightly wrapped in the arms of Morpheus,
i smile faintly before sighing, as reality slaps my face;
I can't give you the man-to-man, or explain a "wet dream";
fulfill your deepest need; nor a missing dad, can I replace.
No matter how much tender love and sensitivity I give my son,
I can neither replace nor substitute what a boy really needs.
suddenly, I’m no longer teary-eyed, though full teardrops fall;
time nears for my morph into hypocrite, to show joy as he reads.
He'll read how his hero-father marched proudly away with honor
to duty of service to all, protecting freedom, homes and lives;
he will look at those shiny medals, touch them and flag, too;
he'll see my face all aglow, but not my skin erupt with hives.
I won't let him see or feel my pained anger, horror or sorrow;
or, gaping emptiness derived from all those reminders of death,
or, my outrage at today's government, unfair, unjust, unhealthy
and probably will still be so the day of my baby's last breath.
I hate this stupid senseless war, so many lives it has ruined;
and every war, for the multitude of single parents left behind!
Tonight, as every night, I leave him, whispering this prayer;
please God, for children and single parents, make life kind.
GreenLipstick
(All rights reserved by DDM Ent., 2003)
Published 8th Jun 2015
| Edited 9th Jun 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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9th Jun 2015 1:21am
Ahhh, greenlipstick, luv ~ :-*
This is profound and poignant, heartfelt, tender, and bittersweet. You write with grace and hard-earned wisdom and a deft hand evincing the challenges and tragedies and heartbreaks faced and triumphs as well.
This poem is heart-wrenching and powerful, luv. :-*
This is profound and poignant, heartfelt, tender, and bittersweet. You write with grace and hard-earned wisdom and a deft hand evincing the challenges and tragedies and heartbreaks faced and triumphs as well.
This poem is heart-wrenching and powerful, luv. :-*
9th Jun 2015 3:47am
Many thanks, Savaja; your keen perception is to be commended as well. This is one of those rare pieces that, even though I wrote it, comes from a place so deep inside me, I get a twinge of sadness and melancholia with every read.
And, greenlipstick is my pen for strangers; to friends and fam, i'm just green; the latter means you and every DU family member.
much love,
Green
And, greenlipstick is my pen for strangers; to friends and fam, i'm just green; the latter means you and every DU family member.
much love,
Green
9th Jun 2015 3:50pm
Anonymous
9th Jul 2015 7:39am
a very moving piece full of grace. wisdom bestowed needs not a gender, but is needed just the same. a beautiful picture of motherhood for me.
