summultima
uma
uma
Poem Published
29th Dec 2018 9:26am
29th Dec 2018 9:26am
the apparatus bird
sinecure alliance, a
diabolic formation
stagnated shaky fronts
more or full of hunched backs
clattering with poached skulls
inner agora peeling midnight rigours
in a gyrating udukkai- a rudrathaandav
haunted poramboke’s unblinking scarecrows
in vigilante-veiled soggy landmine fixations
laze in the pitched pigmented night fabrics
in a blackened festering ooze, a self-deluge
embattling the quirky decembrist cumberlands ...
diabolic formation
stagnated shaky fronts
more or full of hunched backs
clattering with poached skulls
inner agora peeling midnight rigours
in a gyrating udukkai- a rudrathaandav
haunted poramboke’s unblinking scarecrows
in vigilante-veiled soggy landmine fixations
laze in the pitched pigmented night fabrics
in a blackened festering ooze, a self-deluge
embattling the quirky decembrist cumberlands ...
#motherhood
#LifeStruggles
#birds
#night
#dark
732 reads
10 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
28th Apr 2023 00:09am
28th Apr 2023 00:09am
Grandma & Me
Grandma & Me
Treetops sway in the summer breeze
Grandma leads me up the fire tower stairs
To a place where Earth’s sorrows fade
And the cardinal is perched beside the bluejay
As they converse in foreign tongues
That my child’s heart feels but does not comprehend
Grandma smiles in silent reverie
While we ascend into cloud dreams
My little legs tire of the climb
And we settle our ascent into something like rest
But her smile is a conversation like the birds
Yet...
Treetops sway in the summer breeze
Grandma leads me up the fire tower stairs
To a place where Earth’s sorrows fade
And the cardinal is perched beside the bluejay
As they converse in foreign tongues
That my child’s heart feels but does not comprehend
Grandma smiles in silent reverie
While we ascend into cloud dreams
My little legs tire of the climb
And we settle our ascent into something like rest
But her smile is a conversation like the birds
Yet...
#love
#motherhood
#childhood
#dreams
#memories
307 reads
5 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
28th Apr 2023 00:09am
28th Apr 2023 00:09am
Grandma & Me
Grandma & Me
Treetops sway in the summer breeze
Grandma leads me up the fire tower stairs
To a place where Earth’s sorrows fade
And the cardinal is perched beside the bluejay
As they converse in foreign tongues
That my child’s heart feels but does not comprehend
Grandma smiles in silent reverie
While we ascend into cloud dreams
My little legs tire of the climb
And we settle our ascent into something like rest
But her smile is a conversation like the birds
Yet...
Treetops sway in the summer breeze
Grandma leads me up the fire tower stairs
To a place where Earth’s sorrows fade
And the cardinal is perched beside the bluejay
As they converse in foreign tongues
That my child’s heart feels but does not comprehend
Grandma smiles in silent reverie
While we ascend into cloud dreams
My little legs tire of the climb
And we settle our ascent into something like rest
But her smile is a conversation like the birds
Yet...
#love
#motherhood
#childhood
#dreams
#memories
307 reads
5 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
28th Apr 2023 00:09am
28th Apr 2023 00:09am
Grandma & Me
Grandma & Me
Treetops sway in the summer breeze
Grandma leads me up the fire tower stairs
To a place where Earth’s sorrows fade
And the cardinal is perched beside the bluejay
As they converse in foreign tongues
That my child’s heart feels but does not comprehend
Grandma smiles in silent reverie
While we ascend into cloud dreams
My little legs tire of the climb
And we settle our ascent into something like rest
But her smile is a conversation like the birds
Yet...
Treetops sway in the summer breeze
Grandma leads me up the fire tower stairs
To a place where Earth’s sorrows fade
And the cardinal is perched beside the bluejay
As they converse in foreign tongues
That my child’s heart feels but does not comprehend
Grandma smiles in silent reverie
While we ascend into cloud dreams
My little legs tire of the climb
And we settle our ascent into something like rest
But her smile is a conversation like the birds
Yet...
#love
#motherhood
#childhood
#dreams
#memories
307 reads
5 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
28th Apr 2023 00:09am
28th Apr 2023 00:09am
Grandma & Me
Grandma & Me
Treetops sway in the summer breeze
Grandma leads me up the fire tower stairs
To a place where Earth’s sorrows fade
And the cardinal is perched beside the bluejay
As they converse in foreign tongues
That my child’s heart feels but does not comprehend
Grandma smiles in silent reverie
While we ascend into cloud dreams
My little legs tire of the climb
And we settle our ascent into something like rest
But her smile is a conversation like the birds
Yet...
Treetops sway in the summer breeze
Grandma leads me up the fire tower stairs
To a place where Earth’s sorrows fade
And the cardinal is perched beside the bluejay
As they converse in foreign tongues
That my child’s heart feels but does not comprehend
Grandma smiles in silent reverie
While we ascend into cloud dreams
My little legs tire of the climb
And we settle our ascent into something like rest
But her smile is a conversation like the birds
Yet...
#love
#motherhood
#childhood
#dreams
#memories
307 reads
5 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
28th Apr 2023 00:09am
28th Apr 2023 00:09am
Grandma & Me
Grandma & Me
Treetops sway in the summer breeze
Grandma leads me up the fire tower stairs
To a place where Earth’s sorrows fade
And the cardinal is perched beside the bluejay
As they converse in foreign tongues
That my child’s heart feels but does not comprehend
Grandma smiles in silent reverie
While we ascend into cloud dreams
My little legs tire of the climb
And we settle our ascent into something like rest
But her smile is a conversation like the birds
Yet...
Treetops sway in the summer breeze
Grandma leads me up the fire tower stairs
To a place where Earth’s sorrows fade
And the cardinal is perched beside the bluejay
As they converse in foreign tongues
That my child’s heart feels but does not comprehend
Grandma smiles in silent reverie
While we ascend into cloud dreams
My little legs tire of the climb
And we settle our ascent into something like rest
But her smile is a conversation like the birds
Yet...
#love
#motherhood
#childhood
#dreams
#memories
307 reads
5 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
6th Feb 2024 1:54pm
6th Feb 2024 1:54pm
the execution
the night of the executions
On the roof of his loft room, there was a half-open window
by climbing up on a chair, he could see over
the rim and eye
the camp for Russian prisoners of war.
on clear nights, especially when the moon was almost full
he was fascinated by the details and could see the upland
and the village bathed in blue and silver.
it was in the middle of a war,
the boy was five years old
and had been sent to a farm to be safe from nightly sirens
that had frightened him
it was on a night like this,...
On the roof of his loft room, there was a half-open window
by climbing up on a chair, he could see over
the rim and eye
the camp for Russian prisoners of war.
on clear nights, especially when the moon was almost full
he was fascinated by the details and could see the upland
and the village bathed in blue and silver.
it was in the middle of a war,
the boy was five years old
and had been sent to a farm to be safe from nightly sirens
that had frightened him
it was on a night like this,...
#birth
#motherhood
#aging
#nostalgia
#dating
129 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
6th Feb 2024 1:54pm
6th Feb 2024 1:54pm
the execution
the night of the executions
On the roof of his loft room, there was a half-open window
by climbing up on a chair, he could see over
the rim and eye
the camp for Russian prisoners of war.
on clear nights, especially when the moon was almost full
he was fascinated by the details and could see the upland
and the village bathed in blue and silver.
it was in the middle of a war,
the boy was five years old
and had been sent to a farm to be safe from nightly sirens
that had frightened him
it was on a night like this,...
On the roof of his loft room, there was a half-open window
by climbing up on a chair, he could see over
the rim and eye
the camp for Russian prisoners of war.
on clear nights, especially when the moon was almost full
he was fascinated by the details and could see the upland
and the village bathed in blue and silver.
it was in the middle of a war,
the boy was five years old
and had been sent to a farm to be safe from nightly sirens
that had frightened him
it was on a night like this,...
#birth
#motherhood
#aging
#nostalgia
#dating
129 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
6th Feb 2024 1:54pm
6th Feb 2024 1:54pm
the execution
the night of the executions
On the roof of his loft room, there was a half-open window
by climbing up on a chair, he could see over
the rim and eye
the camp for Russian prisoners of war.
on clear nights, especially when the moon was almost full
he was fascinated by the details and could see the upland
and the village bathed in blue and silver.
it was in the middle of a war,
the boy was five years old
and had been sent to a farm to be safe from nightly sirens
that had frightened him
it was on a night like this,...
On the roof of his loft room, there was a half-open window
by climbing up on a chair, he could see over
the rim and eye
the camp for Russian prisoners of war.
on clear nights, especially when the moon was almost full
he was fascinated by the details and could see the upland
and the village bathed in blue and silver.
it was in the middle of a war,
the boy was five years old
and had been sent to a farm to be safe from nightly sirens
that had frightened him
it was on a night like this,...
#birth
#motherhood
#aging
#nostalgia
#dating
129 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
6th Feb 2024 1:54pm
6th Feb 2024 1:54pm
the execution
the night of the executions
On the roof of his loft room, there was a half-open window
by climbing up on a chair, he could see over
the rim and eye
the camp for Russian prisoners of war.
on clear nights, especially when the moon was almost full
he was fascinated by the details and could see the upland
and the village bathed in blue and silver.
it was in the middle of a war,
the boy was five years old
and had been sent to a farm to be safe from nightly sirens
that had frightened him
it was on a night like this,...
On the roof of his loft room, there was a half-open window
by climbing up on a chair, he could see over
the rim and eye
the camp for Russian prisoners of war.
on clear nights, especially when the moon was almost full
he was fascinated by the details and could see the upland
and the village bathed in blue and silver.
it was in the middle of a war,
the boy was five years old
and had been sent to a farm to be safe from nightly sirens
that had frightened him
it was on a night like this,...
#birth
#motherhood
#aging
#nostalgia
#dating
129 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
6th Feb 2024 1:54pm
6th Feb 2024 1:54pm
the execution
the night of the executions
On the roof of his loft room, there was a half-open window
by climbing up on a chair, he could see over
the rim and eye
the camp for Russian prisoners of war.
on clear nights, especially when the moon was almost full
he was fascinated by the details and could see the upland
and the village bathed in blue and silver.
it was in the middle of a war,
the boy was five years old
and had been sent to a farm to be safe from nightly sirens
that had frightened him
it was on a night like this,...
On the roof of his loft room, there was a half-open window
by climbing up on a chair, he could see over
the rim and eye
the camp for Russian prisoners of war.
on clear nights, especially when the moon was almost full
he was fascinated by the details and could see the upland
and the village bathed in blue and silver.
it was in the middle of a war,
the boy was five years old
and had been sent to a farm to be safe from nightly sirens
that had frightened him
it was on a night like this,...
#birth
#motherhood
#aging
#nostalgia
#dating
129 reads
0 Comments
Numer90
Numer0-un0
Numer0-un0
Poem Published
18th Dec 2020 11:05pm
18th Dec 2020 11:05pm
Mum Sample!
On mummy day we just jubiliate..
On mummy day we don't barricade..
On mummy day we don't infiltrate..
On mummy day we post no bille..
On mummy day we don't replay..
I stand by the north 12 o'clock..
Behind my back south
6 o'clock..
From the right east
3 o'clock..
By the left west
9 o'clock..
With this tears how we pay..
Volunteer for replay..
Inside the mind we foreplay..
Outside the mind afterplay..
It's free world...
On mummy day we don't barricade..
On mummy day we don't infiltrate..
On mummy day we post no bille..
On mummy day we don't replay..
I stand by the north 12 o'clock..
Behind my back south
6 o'clock..
From the right east
3 o'clock..
By the left west
9 o'clock..
With this tears how we pay..
Volunteer for replay..
Inside the mind we foreplay..
Outside the mind afterplay..
It's free world...
#parent
#motherhood
#childhood #son
#childhood #son
459 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Motherhood Published by Members Recently Online
