Mending Mother by Leslie Caplan

I looked deeper in
aching to abyss to understand
And I understoodtand
And I understood

Genre: Healing, Family, Relationship

Mending Mother by Leslie Caplan

I found a photograph at the bottom
of an unopened box
Crackling cardboard dried out from
being rained on
I reached in
Sifting through old letters,
scrawls of random thoughts,
poems that turned into
a thousand page book

I poured it out
onto the open floor
let the air in
let the stream of yellow light
spill in
and wrap around each keepsake

At the bottom,
under the fold and crease where the box
holds itself together
was a picture
At first I thought it was me
But it was you
as a young, budding woman
in a black and white capture
of your innocence
How hopeful your eyes gleaned
how deep the longing for what’s ahead

I held the photo in my hand
sat under the window and let the light
magnify your face
I saw myself
The face of the womb in which I grew
before I was even a thought
in your world
So long before an injection of insane
came in and corrupted your radiant youth
and the palpable wisdom
held in the cup your hand

So young and ivory skinned
Plump in cheeks and heart
And even though the picture was black and white
I saw the rosy tint of freshness
on your face
Your rich light almond eyes
I could see right through

You were lovely.

To the core of my holding
Soft before the world you inhaled
made you bitter to a pucker
Your hands mirrored mine
The shape of your brow
the shine of your lips long before
they dried out from all the salted cries you swallowed

You were beautiful.

I looked deeper in
aching to abyss to understand
And I understood
That somewhere along that paved line of your life
your heart caved
and shattered into too many pieces
to pick up and put back together
and you had to pretend
to be unbroken
pretend to love the man you married
and bore three daughters with
that you pretended you knew what to do with

And all you could do
was raise them inside
the shattered chamber you held together
for the sake of their survival
praying they’d thrive
in spite you

and I did.

I can speak for myself and say I did
And I took what was good in you
sane and whole in you
and I found my way
with what you did give me

life
courage
fire

and eyes so deep they blink
off the stillness of a photograph
and shed a tear so fertile
it grows life
mends and heals and breathes into
my whole life
within and without you
my life in honor
of you.

www.courageousheartinmotion.com

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PAPA’S NEW WIFE, Poetry by Nnamdi Wabara

I had gone back towards the Living Room.

For my School Text, which I had left on the side table.

My Math assignment to be redone, errors rife.

But Papa had a visitor, who whispered with him, like thieves about a heirloom.

Then out of the hushed tones, the inaudible rabble;

Papa said ” Tomorrow, she’ll be here; My New Wife”.

Genre: Family, Life, People

PAPA’S NEW WIFE by Nnamdi Wabara

 

I had gone back towards the Living Room.

For my School Text, which I had left on the side table.

My Math assignment to be redone, errors rife.

But Papa had a visitor, who whispered with him, like thieves about a heirloom.

Then out of the hushed tones, the inaudible rabble;

Papa said ” Tomorrow, she’ll be here; My New Wife”.

 

 

My young legs became filled with copious lead.

I froze to the spot. Enraged, yet rooted.

My heart thundered against my ribs, as if to break free.

And worse. The door opened. It was Revd. Gilead.

Parish Pastor and regular partaker of Mama’s delicious stewed Goat head.

I dodged as he made to pat my head, lest he stain me with his filthy mire.

 

 

That Evening at dinner, I couldn’t swallow even a morsel.

I just sat at the table staring at my plate, while my mind rioted.

Watching him even feed Mama pieces of fish from his soup. The Traitor!

My two little sisters chatted merrily and helped finish my cup of Sorrel.

My parents soon stood and hand in hand, whilst giggling, announced they had retired.

I soon left as well, not having the heart while my sisters washed up, to monitor.

 

 

Sleep that night was turbulent. I tossed and turned.

What could turn a godly man, an avowed Christian, polygamous?

When just the other day, he had railed against infidelity in the Church.

He wouldn’t even shake the Landlord’s hand after the Caretaker’s young daughter became his newly wed.

Gone were his public vows of ensuring his children became famous.

How possible, when the new wife will fight us over even the battered couch.

 

 

Then I wondered if at all we will be in Papa’s will.

Mama’s three daughters’ stood no chance against a new son in the African Custom.

Oh the injustice of it all, as I fell into a fitful sleep.

And I dreamt we were Romans and were gathered to feast on some bounty kill.

Though dressed in Togas’, I could still make out people in the place, including my Grand-Mom.

The Revd. Gilead was called Brutus, and I wished he would remain there as Caesar’s keep.

 

 

The Morning only brought me high fevers.

All sweaty, with splitting headaches. Mama sent word to School through my sisters.

I feigned sleep as Papa felt my forehead and prayed for my recovery. Evil Man!

At noon, I heard Mama’s excited shout; “Nne, come and see your Father’s New Wife”. Gone were the feverish shivers.

I charged out. An ill and weak Nine Year Old. Machete in hand. To ensure justice and preserve the honour of Mama and my sisters.

There she was. A White Volkswagen Beetle. Glistening in the Sun. Papa had bought a new Car. My Sweet Old Man.

 

Nnamdi Wabara, 2016.( newerthots.blogspot.com )

 

 

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Never to old for Love (2015 Poem), Poetry by Colin Guest

The year 2015 has been one of great joy and happiness.
With deep and everlasting love overcoming all in its way.
Although there were times of stress from health problems.
All turned out well, with nothing at all serious prevailing.

Never to old for Love (2015 Poem)
by Colin Guest

The year 2015 has been one of great joy and happiness.
With deep and everlasting love overcoming all in its way.
Although there were times of stress from health problems.
All turned out well, with nothing at all serious prevailing.
I thank the stars above for my meeting my wife Gulden.
Who since we met, has been a tower of strength to me.
Giving me the will to overcome any problems I had.
Each time we go out for a walk we always hold hands.
With my smiling in the knowledge that I’m a lucky man.
People sometime stare on seeing us sitting on a bench.
Cuddled up close together and looking so deep in love.
This can be seen by all, as surely as night follows day.
Some no doubt are shocked to see us sometimes kiss.
But we feel no shame about this, our love is no secret.
Many more would for sure, wish they too were like us.
Out and about and enjoying the later years of their life.
Even though we are both now in our early seventies
No matter what the weather, we always enjoy ourselves.
So for us, the year 2015 has been yet another happy year.
With our just hoping to see in many more years together.

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Read the best of FAMILY Poetry from all over the world

Submit your POETRY to the Festival. Three options to submit:
https://festivalforpoetry.com/

Submit your POETRY to the Festival. Three options to submit:
https://festivalforpoetry.com/

HOME AND HOSPITAL FOR THE INCURABLES, by Georgia Zapparoli
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/07/20/home-and-hospital-for-the-incurables-poetry-by-georgia-zapparoli/

THE SUN IN LOVE, by Fred Strydom
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/07/17/the-sun-in-love-by-fred-strydom/

I AM THAT SEED, by Steve Higgins
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/07/15/i-am-that-seed-poetry-by-steve-higgins/

DEATH, by Alejandro Salvador
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/06/27/death-poetry-by-alejandro-salvador/

FORGOTTEN, by Priya Prithviraj
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/06/22/forgotten-poetry-by-priya-prithviraj/

TIMELESS BELOVED, by Emmanuel Hampton
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/06/14/timeless-beloved-poetry-by-emmanuel-hampton/

VISITING GEMINI, by Lindaann Loschiavo
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/06/07/visiting-gemini-poetry-by-lindaann-lo-schiavo/

MY FATHER A WHISKEY, by Shiela Baysa
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/06/07/my-father-a-whiskey-poetry-by-shiela-baysa/

NOTHING CHANGED ME, by Miriam Beza
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/06/01/nothing-changed-me-poetry-by-miriam-beza/

THE ROOM, by Morca
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/05/31/the-room-poetry-by-morca/

INHERIT THE SIN, by Toto Chehandala
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/05/28/inherit-the-sin-poetry-by-toto-che-handala/

MY LIFE IN ORBIT, by Ken W. Simpson
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/05/28/my-life-in-orbit-poetry-by-ken-w-simpson/

THE SOLDIER, by Natashja Singleton
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/05/24/the-soldier-poetry-by-natashja-singleton/

A POEM FOR MOTHERS, by Caleb Owusu
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/05/23/a-poem-for-mothers-poetry-by-caleb-owusu/

MY JOURNEY, by Stephen McBride
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/05/23/my-journey-poem-by-stephen-mcbride/

THIS CALM, by Keith Lotter
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/05/15/this-calm-poetry-by-keith-lotter/

THE PLACES YOU LISTEN FOR, by Janet Weil
http://wildsoundfestivalreview.com/2015/05/16/the-places-you-listen-for-poetry-by-janet-weil/

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