God's Nest egg

To place a hand on your mother's belly  
is to speak to god,  
your primordial pod,  
where you first nodded off  
and also  
the spot you first got to  
taste  
chicken broth,  
feel the warmth of wash cloths,  
hear somebody talk,  
feel breathing and coughs  
 
It's where you learned to eavesdrop  
in your mother's belly  
and heard that  
the world would be amazing  
 
It's where you first harvested crops  
raining down, in amazement  
and reclined lazily  
 
Where you sipped your first pop,  
felt a dog's  
hot breath  
and the press of it's paw  
 
Where you first kicked  
and you spit,  
tossed and turned and you flopped,  
it's where you were gifted with  
wonder and awe  
 
To place a hand on your mother's belly  
is to speak to god,  
your primordial pod,  
To place the other on  
your fathers crotch is just odd,  
gross and ill advised, sick  
No sentiment to be had  
in that wrong, vice grip  
 
Mothers  
are  
the  
shit  
 
Indispensable, quick witted  
and knighted in the eyes of our stars,  
trading their might  
for ours  
 
Giving our nights  
their hours  
giving insight and power  
to fools and cowards,  
striking fear into minds of looming  
threats and hiding us from spying towers,  
sending lightning back to clouds,  
putting down to rest  
and shushing all sounds  
to help bless  
undeserving sleepers,  
snot nosed brats with peepers  
wandering, looking for trouble,  
hide the cats, hide the shovels  
keep crayola off the wall,  
paint off the carpet  
 
Picking up your toys from their halls,  
don't get her started  
on all she's given  
and all that's within, neglected  
or she might say  
I am god, I am love, I am your protector,  
I am push, I am shove to  
any harm detected, I am perfection  
I am here to warn you of buffoons,  
catch a bug or two,  
alleviate your gloom  
I am here to chase you  
when you wanna zoom  
here to redesign your room  
here to teach you how to groom  
here to dance with you when you're a groom,  
here to hand you a broom  
when messes stress me to moons  
and when you've taken care of that  
and I am back  
I'll speak of which flowers bloom soon  
 
I am here to help you grow,  
fly airplanes made of spoons,  
show you  
your first snow and  
get hit by what ensues  
 
I am here to place pieces of my heart  
in all you do  
a part of me is you,  
apart, my arteries blue  
I used to have hard times  
getting you to tie shoes  
now you're gone like morning dew  
on dry and lonely afternoons  
and my bones cry  
 
I reside in empty tomb  
I might fly to space  
to depart from you and your aura of doom,  
to curb my impatience  
and that would be a shame  
to be so far from where I came from,  
which is the same place as you,  
my mothers womb  
 
When I was just little,  
when all my dreams fit into a thimble,  
life was so simple  
when I fit into  
the palm of my Earth  
 
and now that I hold the Earth in my palm  
it treats me as it's pimple  
 
Perhaps, this is to be a mom  
perhaps this is to be my mother  
I know I'm a son, wrong  
and I am no brother,  
now I wonder if she  
wishes she smothered...  
 
a son of god,  
blood stain that evades all bleach,  
a satanic spawn,  
with no will or strength to just reach,  
a devilish blunder,  
alive but bereaved,  
perhaps these,  
The thoughts of a mother
Least, when it comes to
me