Poems About Motherhood Seeking Honest Critique
#motherhood
Poems about motherhood seeking honest critique. Honest feedback has been requested for these poems.
To my daughter that never was
I sit in a passenger seat
watching night’s wheels
drive towards the car
noise
and colour
softly blurring
I wonder
if that too was what
you were, my dear
passing light
kaleidoscopic
nothingness
a journey we once took
together in the deathly
December
dark
watching night’s wheels
drive towards the car
noise
and colour
softly blurring
I wonder
if that too was what
you were, my dear
passing light
kaleidoscopic
nothingness
a journey we once took
together in the deathly
December
dark
#daughter
#grief
#memorial
#motherhood
#historical
220 reads
5 Comments
Multiple Roles in Life
Lauryn slide up onto a barstool and catch a sweet smile from a man she’d noticed when she entered the room. “Is this seat taken, or are you waiting for someone who can actually handle your charm?”
He turned to her and smiled again. “Well, I was hoping for a bit of magic tonight, so it looks like you showed up right on cue.”
Lauryn laughed. “Magic, huh? Well, I can't promise rabbits out of hats, but I can certainly pull some interesting conversation out of thin air.”
The man raised his glass to her. “I’m Jonny. To interesting conversations, then. And may I just...
He turned to her and smiled again. “Well, I was hoping for a bit of magic tonight, so it looks like you showed up right on cue.”
Lauryn laughed. “Magic, huh? Well, I can't promise rabbits out of hats, but I can certainly pull some interesting conversation out of thin air.”
The man raised his glass to her. “I’m Jonny. To interesting conversations, then. And may I just...
#crush
#motherhood
#sex
353 reads
4 Comments
Mournfully, Mother
I wish I could remember your baby snuggles—
Every coo, every wiggle, every kiss.
Dissociation and my youthful foolishness
Stole away something I didn't think I'd miss.
I forgot to cherish those tiny feet
And the way your hand wrapped around my finger.
I didn't kiss the top of your head enough
While the newborn smell still lingered.
I'll never get those moments back,
And they haunt me in your little brother's eyes.
If I'd been less busy, less afraid, less sad...
Maybe I'd been woman enough to stay by your side.
...
Every coo, every wiggle, every kiss.
Dissociation and my youthful foolishness
Stole away something I didn't think I'd miss.
I forgot to cherish those tiny feet
And the way your hand wrapped around my finger.
I didn't kiss the top of your head enough
While the newborn smell still lingered.
I'll never get those moments back,
And they haunt me in your little brother's eyes.
If I'd been less busy, less afraid, less sad...
Maybe I'd been woman enough to stay by your side.
...
#children
#family
#memories
#motherhood
#regret
178 reads
1 Comment
The Mothering Tribe
I learnt that when you don't have a Mother,
others will come to carry the load -
or so it was for me,
first my Great-Grandmother,
the wisdom of which I was gifted
until lymphoma took her at seventeen.
I'd got back from backpacking - au pairing,
exploring German and Luxembourgish bookshops,
European coffee and mussels and trains.
She went cold under my hand.
Her eyes froze on my tongue.
Secondly, with my Grandmother -
took me in after an incident with a car and a pavement, and her hands
on the wheel.
I was on foot. ...
others will come to carry the load -
or so it was for me,
first my Great-Grandmother,
the wisdom of which I was gifted
until lymphoma took her at seventeen.
I'd got back from backpacking - au pairing,
exploring German and Luxembourgish bookshops,
European coffee and mussels and trains.
She went cold under my hand.
Her eyes froze on my tongue.
Secondly, with my Grandmother -
took me in after an incident with a car and a pavement, and her hands
on the wheel.
I was on foot. ...
#gratitude
#home
#motherhood
161 reads
2 Comments
Breastfeeding
I feel something indescribable while feeding Ava. In all my pregnancy preparations, no one conveyed the true magic of this experience. Holding her, feeling her latch on is pure rapture. Her tiny fingers around mine, her eyes fluttering closed as she drank, make time stand still.
Breastfeeding is more than a task; it's an instinctual bond. In those moments, we’re connected in a way that feels ancient and primal. The look in her eyes, so trusting and dependent, awakens something deep within me.
Motherhood is so much more than I expected. Yes, there are the worries about...
Breastfeeding is more than a task; it's an instinctual bond. In those moments, we’re connected in a way that feels ancient and primal. The look in her eyes, so trusting and dependent, awakens something deep within me.
Motherhood is so much more than I expected. Yes, there are the worries about...
#love
#motherhood
272 reads
4 Comments
Mother's Day
What happens when your heart skips a beat?
You loose your breath...
You are breathing in quick deep breaths...
Almost hyperventilating....
It comes to you in a flash
You remember the good times
The boat rides in Uhuru Park, the pedaling..
The trips to the pwani beaches
All courtesy of Mother dearest
Yet lingers the pain of times lived in the slums
Times of being thrown out of rented homes
Of landlords big padlocks on the door
Or using blacksmiths to weld and shut entry
Yet sometimes had to innovate and use neighbor's doors to...
You loose your breath...
You are breathing in quick deep breaths...
Almost hyperventilating....
It comes to you in a flash
You remember the good times
The boat rides in Uhuru Park, the pedaling..
The trips to the pwani beaches
All courtesy of Mother dearest
Yet lingers the pain of times lived in the slums
Times of being thrown out of rented homes
Of landlords big padlocks on the door
Or using blacksmiths to weld and shut entry
Yet sometimes had to innovate and use neighbor's doors to...
#mother
#motherhood
#MothersDay
196 reads
0 Comments
Note to Friends and a Poem by Mother
Note to friends and a poem by my mother -
I've been advised by my doctors to practice strict bed rest until my baby arrives, which means I won't be writing for a few days. While it's a bit frustrating to slow down, I know it's what's best for my baby and me.
I'm in good hands. A special friend has graciously stepped in to help with my workload, and Joseph, my ever-supportive partner, is by my side, ensuring I'm comfortable and cared for every step of the way. And of course, David continues to provide financial support for which I’m grateful.
As I...
I've been advised by my doctors to practice strict bed rest until my baby arrives, which means I won't be writing for a few days. While it's a bit frustrating to slow down, I know it's what's best for my baby and me.
I'm in good hands. A special friend has graciously stepped in to help with my workload, and Joseph, my ever-supportive partner, is by my side, ensuring I'm comfortable and cared for every step of the way. And of course, David continues to provide financial support for which I’m grateful.
As I...
#motherhood
#pregnancy
#sacrifice
290 reads
4 Comments
Mortem Immaturus in Maio: A Scene of Putrescence, Grief, and Rain
The grime-coated walls of a cement-made bodega house a family of two; her mother cries out beside her, howling, a grief-stricken tune—it is a dog-eat-dog world after all. Four walls echo silence and few.
The buzz of an old lightbulb— swarmed by a myriad of flying termites, the quiet whine of my panicked and labored breath, the heaving and puffing of a mother dog.
The skies cry out above us: its tears soaking the unclipped growth—that surrounds concrete foundations. A reek astir, odor of: wet loam, mold, fungi, and wood encapsulates us in a bubble, suffocating, with a...
The buzz of an old lightbulb— swarmed by a myriad of flying termites, the quiet whine of my panicked and labored breath, the heaving and puffing of a mother dog.
The skies cry out above us: its tears soaking the unclipped growth—that surrounds concrete foundations. A reek astir, odor of: wet loam, mold, fungi, and wood encapsulates us in a bubble, suffocating, with a...
#animals
#dogs
#motherhood
155 reads
2 Comments
blood and nothingness
My uterus is on its way out
I bleed too heavy
throw up from the pain
can't stand up straight
without painkillers
that barely numb
the all encompassing agony
that some months
makes me want to commit
self-surgery
just so I don't have to feel this way
We've been trying
for a baby for a few months now
and every month the blood comes
to say no, you didn't get
what you wanted this time
I've carried two children
beautiful accidents
and one miscarriage
that left me more broken ...
I bleed too heavy
throw up from the pain
can't stand up straight
without painkillers
that barely numb
the all encompassing agony
that some months
makes me want to commit
self-surgery
just so I don't have to feel this way
We've been trying
for a baby for a few months now
and every month the blood comes
to say no, you didn't get
what you wanted this time
I've carried two children
beautiful accidents
and one miscarriage
that left me more broken ...
#children
#illness
#motherhood
219 reads
4 Comments
The Lord's Gonna Call Him Home
Hush little baby, don't you cry
Your mama's got a 12-gauge held up high
And if that boy ever breaks your heart
I'll send him where the moon meets and kisses the stars
He's messin' with my baby
And I ain't gonna tell him twice
If you come home cryin'
Kiss his Chevy and these matches goodnight
You're comin' off gentle
Something like a Preacher's daughter
The same can't be said for me,
thanks to your father
'Cause I know his kind
like the back of my hand
Just 'cause he's a male
don't make him a man
...
Your mama's got a 12-gauge held up high
And if that boy ever breaks your heart
I'll send him where the moon meets and kisses the stars
He's messin' with my baby
And I ain't gonna tell him twice
If you come home cryin'
Kiss his Chevy and these matches goodnight
You're comin' off gentle
Something like a Preacher's daughter
The same can't be said for me,
thanks to your father
'Cause I know his kind
like the back of my hand
Just 'cause he's a male
don't make him a man
...
#daughter
#family
#motherhood
286 reads
5 Comments
Silent Children
Once upon a time
in a womb, far, far away
there lived a child
You were that child
silent and dreaming
in the waters
of ancestral memory
Sound reached your ears
though you never could reply
Prayers were offered for you
though you never knew
and tears were shed
that could never dry
Nations anticipated you
prophets shouted from the hills
Empires warred against your kin
While poets shed ink spills
Though you may have forgotten
while dwelling on your scars
...
in a womb, far, far away
there lived a child
You were that child
silent and dreaming
in the waters
of ancestral memory
Sound reached your ears
though you never could reply
Prayers were offered for you
though you never knew
and tears were shed
that could never dry
Nations anticipated you
prophets shouted from the hills
Empires warred against your kin
While poets shed ink spills
Though you may have forgotten
while dwelling on your scars
...
#children
#fatherhood
#motherhood
225 reads
3 Comments
Mother's Death
Journal entry: April 27, 2024
In early May, it will have been one year since my mother’s death. It feels like yesterday. Or an eternity.
Mom's last years were consumed by her lust for men and eventually drugs. She seemed to be trying to fill an emptiness. Her desires sometimes drowned out everything else. But still, she cared for me. Now, with her gone, there's no chance for redemption. She can’t witness the next chapters of my life.
Death claimed her completely. There is no lingering spirit, no afterlife where she might find solace or...
In early May, it will have been one year since my mother’s death. It feels like yesterday. Or an eternity.
Mom's last years were consumed by her lust for men and eventually drugs. She seemed to be trying to fill an emptiness. Her desires sometimes drowned out everything else. But still, she cared for me. Now, with her gone, there's no chance for redemption. She can’t witness the next chapters of my life.
Death claimed her completely. There is no lingering spirit, no afterlife where she might find solace or...
#death
#motherhood
274 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Motherhood Seeking Honest Critique