DeaSiciliana
Poem Published
10th Apr 2021 6:20am
10th Apr 2021 6:20am
Splash
I watched the water cascade down the mountains peak only to fall to its untimely death
Splash
Splash
Splash
The earth began to quiver and shake and primal screams emerged
as the water fell more quickly
Splash!
Splash!
Splash!
Do I stay? Or do I run?
Or do I let someone see the tears falling from my eyes?
Splash!!
Splash!!!
SPLASH!!!!
Splash
Splash
Splash
The earth began to quiver and shake and primal screams emerged
as the water fell more quickly
Splash!
Splash!
Splash!
Do I stay? Or do I run?
Or do I let someone see the tears falling from my eyes?
Splash!!
Splash!!!
SPLASH!!!!
#anxiety
#depression
#bipolar
#MentalHealth
#son
365 reads
1 Comment
randyjohnson
Poem Published
6th Mar 2021 4:29pm
6th Mar 2021 4:29pm
Rest In Peace, Mom - Part V
When a person dies so young, I have to ask why.
I still miss you as each day passes by.
When my brother told me how sick you were, he told me face to face.
He didn't want to tell me over the telephone so he came to my place.
Until he told me the bad news, I didn't know just how ill that you were.
It was painful and heart breaking and your death was hard to endure.
You didn't die on the operating table even though the surgeon thought you would.
I was unhappy eight years ago today because I had to say goodbye to you for good.
Because of an aneurysm, my...
I still miss you as each day passes by.
When my brother told me how sick you were, he told me face to face.
He didn't want to tell me over the telephone so he came to my place.
Until he told me the bad news, I didn't know just how ill that you were.
It was painful and heart breaking and your death was hard to endure.
You didn't die on the operating table even though the surgeon thought you would.
I was unhappy eight years ago today because I had to say goodbye to you for good.
Because of an aneurysm, my...
#mother
#death
#anniversary
#son
#nonfiction
415 reads
1 Comment
goldenmyst
Poem Published
27th Feb 2021 11:18pm
27th Feb 2021 11:18pm
Maternal Venus Rides The Soul Cycle
Maternal Venus Rides The Soul Cycle
John is an old soul who makes eighteen Sol circles only to become a vegan just like his Mom. He drinks her carrot juice by the gallon. He asks her, “Mom if I drink too much carrot juice will I turn orange? And if I mix it with beet juice will I get purple and orange stripes?”
She tells him, “No sweetie. But your eyes will work better, so you can see to wipe the last smudge of carob cookies off your mouth so you can tell Mom the cat ate them.”
“But Mom, if we are what we eat then that makes me a vegetable.”
...
John is an old soul who makes eighteen Sol circles only to become a vegan just like his Mom. He drinks her carrot juice by the gallon. He asks her, “Mom if I drink too much carrot juice will I turn orange? And if I mix it with beet juice will I get purple and orange stripes?”
She tells him, “No sweetie. But your eyes will work better, so you can see to wipe the last smudge of carob cookies off your mouth so you can tell Mom the cat ate them.”
“But Mom, if we are what we eat then that makes me a vegetable.”
...
#mother
#rebirth
#dialogue
#sensual
#son
457 reads
6 Comments
brokentitanium
k.
k.
Poem Published
21st Feb 2021 4:45am
21st Feb 2021 4:45am
17 and 11/12ths
He's sobbing, overwhelmed
on the edge of adulthood
desperate to be told who he is
while balking against all limits
A joy and a treasure since birth,
what a gift that he shares
this tender heart,
this need for mom's hugs
And if I could, I'd relieve his confusion
But all my wisdom feels useless.
I know now,
I will have to witness
him gathering his own.
on the edge of adulthood
desperate to be told who he is
while balking against all limits
A joy and a treasure since birth,
what a gift that he shares
this tender heart,
this need for mom's hugs
And if I could, I'd relieve his confusion
But all my wisdom feels useless.
I know now,
I will have to witness
him gathering his own.
#love
#teens
#son
462 reads
14 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
468 reads
2 Comments
randyjohnson
Poem Published
17th Oct 2020 5:47pm
17th Oct 2020 5:47pm
Saint Agnes
Saint Agnes is what my mom should be called.
When she died, I was both saddened and appalled.
I admire women homemakers more than women who work because Mom was a homemaker.
I was devastated on March the 6th of 2013 because my poor mother needed an undertaker.
Mom wasn't actually a saint but she was as close as a person could get.
You would've been very happy and fortunate if you and Mom had met.
She was a wonderful mother and that's something I'm proud to confess.
She was one in a million and she should be called Saint Agnes.
When she died, I was both saddened and appalled.
I admire women homemakers more than women who work because Mom was a homemaker.
I was devastated on March the 6th of 2013 because my poor mother needed an undertaker.
Mom wasn't actually a saint but she was as close as a person could get.
You would've been very happy and fortunate if you and Mom had met.
She was a wonderful mother and that's something I'm proud to confess.
She was one in a million and she should be called Saint Agnes.
#mother
#death
#memorial
#son
#nonfiction
361 reads
1 Comment
Vferry
vpf
vpf
Poem Published
15th Sep 2020 5:44am
15th Sep 2020 5:44am
Tellin' Season
The breeze was dropping secrets
with every falling leaf
Until the trees stood naked
There’s no tellin’ the words he’ll speak
Why the hell he have to wait so long
To kick up dust at the end of day
I always knew the storm was coming
But why did it have to come today
Here comes the Tellin' Season
Bout to find out the rhyme and reason
For all the things he did and didn’t do
Inside the Telling season
The weather of his words- gets you believing
That he did it all for you
That ain’t true
But he gets it off his chest...
with every falling leaf
Until the trees stood naked
There’s no tellin’ the words he’ll speak
Why the hell he have to wait so long
To kick up dust at the end of day
I always knew the storm was coming
But why did it have to come today
Here comes the Tellin' Season
Bout to find out the rhyme and reason
For all the things he did and didn’t do
Inside the Telling season
The weather of his words- gets you believing
That he did it all for you
That ain’t true
But he gets it off his chest...
#father
#family
#death #son
#death #son
324 reads
1 Comment
Monstrositat
Poem Published
13th Aug 2020 2:40pm
13th Aug 2020 2:40pm
The First Time My Father Ever Beat Me
My father was screaming in frustration and rage; I in despair and pain. His hands were numb from the intense and physically demanding actions while my butt was numb, finally free of the pain it endured in my situation. He slapped and slapped and punched and threw things at me, heavy things that hurt. There was nothing I could do. No way to fight back was present, only ways to possibly ease the pain. Finally, with one last, he kicked me and struck a decisive blow!!! My character went sailing off-screen and the announcer declared “GAME!” My father had beaten me in Smash Bros for the first time...
#dark
#father
#abuse
#funny
#son
331 reads
1 Comment
randyjohnson
Poem Published
2nd Aug 2020 5:41pm
2nd Aug 2020 5:41pm
Happy Birthday, Mom - Part VIII
When you died, I was devastated and didn't know what to do.
If you hadn't died, today you would've turned seventy-two.
The love that I felt for you was special and it knew no bounds.
My heart was broken when you were lowered in the ground.
If you could hear the words I'm saying, I'd want you to hear me say "I love you".
When you died, My days were filled with unhappiness because I was so blue.
I grew inside of your womb until I was born in August of 1971.
You were spectacular and it was a privilege to be your son.
I suffered when you died and it's...
If you hadn't died, today you would've turned seventy-two.
The love that I felt for you was special and it knew no bounds.
My heart was broken when you were lowered in the ground.
If you could hear the words I'm saying, I'd want you to hear me say "I love you".
When you died, My days were filled with unhappiness because I was so blue.
I grew inside of your womb until I was born in August of 1971.
You were spectacular and it was a privilege to be your son.
I suffered when you died and it's...
#mother
#death
#birthday #son
#birthday #son
432 reads
0 Comments
JaniceRain
Poem Published
30th Jun 2020 00:10am
30th Jun 2020 00:10am
Little Man, Where has your hand gone
Little Man, where has your hand gone?
That small hand slipped into mine
as we walked together.
That small hand gently placed on my cheek
as you look into my face with love and concern.
That small hand laid upon my head
as you prayed for me.
Little Man, where have you gone?
That small hand got a little bigger and wrote me songs.
That young hand experimented with food
and cooked amazing things for me.
That young hand patted my back
when I hugged you too long.
That young hand packed your things
and drove away in your...
That small hand slipped into mine
as we walked together.
That small hand gently placed on my cheek
as you look into my face with love and concern.
That small hand laid upon my head
as you prayed for me.
Little Man, where have you gone?
That small hand got a little bigger and wrote me songs.
That young hand experimented with food
and cooked amazing things for me.
That young hand patted my back
when I hugged you too long.
That young hand packed your things
and drove away in your...
#motherhood
#memories
#son
435 reads
9 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
10th Jun 2020 5:19am
10th Jun 2020 5:19am
Reining in the Wild Appaloosa - Rewrite
Reining in the Wild Appaloosa
John is an old soul who makes eighteen Sol circles only to become a vegan just like his Mom. He drinks her carrot juice by the gallon. He asks her, “Mom if I drink too much carrot juice will I turn orange? And if I mix it with beet juice will I get purple and orange stripes?”
She tells him, “No sweetie. But your eyes will work better, so you can see to wipe the last smudge of carob cookies off your mouth so you can tell Mom the cat ate them.”
“But Mom, if we are what we eat then that makes me a vegetable.”
“No...
John is an old soul who makes eighteen Sol circles only to become a vegan just like his Mom. He drinks her carrot juice by the gallon. He asks her, “Mom if I drink too much carrot juice will I turn orange? And if I mix it with beet juice will I get purple and orange stripes?”
She tells him, “No sweetie. But your eyes will work better, so you can see to wipe the last smudge of carob cookies off your mouth so you can tell Mom the cat ate them.”
“But Mom, if we are what we eat then that makes me a vegetable.”
“No...
#mother
#dialogue
#son
557 reads
4 Comments
randyjohnson
Poem Published
10th May 2020 3:03pm
10th May 2020 3:03pm
The Eighth Mother's Day
This is the eighth Mother's Day that has come around since you died.
You were one of the world's greatest mothers and that can't be denied.
Time flies, it doesn't seem like eight Mother's Days have come around.
Life stopped being as good when you were lowered into the ground.
When the doctor said you would die, I didn't like what he had to say.
You're no longer with us but I still wish you a happy Mother's Day.
You were one of the world's greatest mothers and that can't be denied.
Time flies, it doesn't seem like eight Mother's Days have come around.
Life stopped being as good when you were lowered into the ground.
When the doctor said you would die, I didn't like what he had to say.
You're no longer with us but I still wish you a happy Mother's Day.
#mother
#MothersDay
#son #nonfiction
#son #nonfiction
436 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Poems for and About Sons Seeking Friendly Advice
