Don't scroll, search for it here...

Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Sunday, 25 January 2015

Mother abscond

In the lock of her arms,
is where I thought I'd be wed-
but instead, I'm locked in dread-
with this poetry in my head,
of things I should have said.
I thought of the future ahead,
and what would have changed
If her and I vowed and wed...

I'm sorry darling, I figured-
that at about this time of the year,
I'd be rubbing my nose on yours,
I'd sneeze and you'd giggle
'cause usually, I cough and sneeze-
simultaneously, everyone thinks it funny...
Your mother would carry you away,
smack me on the head and say;
"You're going to make her ill!"
but still, I'd walk to both of you and hug you...

I'm sorry my dear, I'd have loved,
to hold your wee hands in my palm.
You and your tiny socks head and toe,
crawling on the floor towards me,
unaware of the joy that you bring me.
I'd have loved to see you pretend cry-
so loud yet no tears in your eyes.
You'd be a crook but to you I'd hooked,
all my love and riches I'd let you steal,
for you'd have booked my heart.

My dear, I'm mentally prepared for you;
ayeh, they say I'm financially impaired,
yet for you I could be pushed to the wall-
in a sticky situation like a roach on it's back;
helpless and needless to say hopeless;
yet I'd reap out follicle by follicle,
trying to figure out every obstacle-
that hinders crowning you possible,
for as my princess you'd deserve it all.

Ayeh, it's perverse, your mother abscond,
she left and didn't call and it's toll-
lays heavy on my chest I can't rest...
We all look for love my dear,
yet when availed we run like deer.
Is it fear? Or the blind urge for riches,
for love is as pure as sparkling gold,
and it's in human nature to discover,
find some and seek out some more.

Mother abscond,
and I do not blame her this world is cold.
In her fetus you would have found warmth,
but in my arms she did not find what she sought.

No comments:

Post a Comment