Sunday, 18 September 2016

Mother And Child

I have nurtured hatred
unendingly so................
bags full of trash
valueless to the world
priceless to me
as all other worthless thoughts
churned and cherished
within the fragile membranes
                  of a puerile mind
now appear to have lost their shine
in the blinding glitter
of mushrooming malls

I have parented dreams
wailing in the womb
of silenced nights
throttled sobs
and muffled cries

I have sung lullabies
to sooth them to sleep
and woken them up
at the wrong time
fed them what
money could not buy
nourished them well
so that they  not die
an untimely death
schooled them to believe
they have been immortalized

Yes, I have mothered dreams
but never a child...


  1. What a stunning end... those dreams that can both break and build... I wonder if we are struck by them or they strike us.

  2. Oh this is so very deep and thought provoking.

  3. That ending strikes a powerful chord, to have mothered dreams but never a child. Wonderful writing. Nice to see you in the Pantry! I hope you keep coming back. Smiles.

    1. Yes will try to come back again and again Sherry

  4. Wow that is certainly a powerful end to a good poem.

  5. I have parented dreams
    wailing in the womb.....

    It is so so moving and so true! strikes as a stark truth to the reader.How a mother nurtures her child feeding her silently with the pains turned into pleasure.
    Loved the ending---
    Yes, I have mothered dreams
    but never a child...

  6. Any kind of mothering can be hard work!

  7. Powerful stuff.
    My favourite:
    "fed them what
    money could not buy" This line sums up the essence of any nurturer- mother, father, mentor, it. Thank you:)

  8. A tempest of emotions and thoughts on a platter! Loved it:)

  9. This poem really moves me. Open and honest. My favorite kind of writing. The ending saddens me really, and I keep thinking that there are many ways in which a person can mother....and I hope you will find your way.

  10. Thanks Mary. You've gotten into the soul of the poem as noone did...