You're standing in the doorway.
Your workday is all done.
He waits to see you everyday,
this boy that is your son.
...
Once upon a time
when we were young
you caught my eye
like a ball to a glove.
...
Once more we talk about it.
How sad it's all become.
No matter how we look at it
this family is not one.
...
The darkness of the pit
is swallowing you in.
I see you looking at me
with that evil, twisted grin.
...
What is a family picture?
Is it all for real?
Are the people that you see
pretending they don't feel?
...
When you are nine years old
and sifting the seeds out
of your parents pot for them,
you can't really preach
...
You say that you can picture me sitting in my chair.
What is it that you picture when you look from over there?
Do you envision beauty or an ugly, wrinkled hag?
Does my skin give off a glow or do my wrinkles sag?
...
She knew
all I was hoping for
was a little time with you all.
She knew
...
How can a mother not hurt
when her child cries out in pain?
How can she turn and look away
when there's so much to be gained?
...
My life was changed so harshly.
It feels like yesterday,
when God said you have had enough
and that you couldn't stay.
...
Sometimes it takes a tragedy
to help us see things clear,
and then we get a glimpse of life
without our loved ones here.
...
Mother Earth and Father Time are walking hand in hand.
They're visiting their children and checking on their land.
They view the worlds destruction everywhere they turn.
...
How are you inspired?
Are you inspired by the sun?
Does it warm your skin from deep within?
Is it your number one?
...
There are so many times
when I see somebody that is old
I mean............very old
and the first thing I think of is............
...
I never did the
''He loves me not....
He loves me'' game
with flowers.
...
I printed all my poems out and put them in a book.
I've placed it on the table in the hopes you'll take a look.
You know you'll find my soul there beneath the cover page.
...
I see pain in their eyes.
I hear sorrow in their cries.
Inside I break and cry alone,
with my eyes of fire and heart of stone.
...
Each year you get school pictures for everyone to see.
I always plead my case for you to just dress properly.
I make you wear your hair down or maybe with some curls
...
I write what I feel..... I hope you feel what I write. :) Thanks so much for reading them.)
Father And Son
You're standing in the doorway.
Your workday is all done.
He waits to see you everyday,
this boy that is your son.
He hopes you will go fishing.
He hopes you'll shoot the gun.
He just wants to be with you,
this boy that is your son.
He is your spitting image.
To him you are ''The One''.
He hopes to be just like you,
this boy that is your son.
You show him what a man is.
You teach as you have fun.
You are admired as well as loved
by this boy that is your son.
You've got a friend forever.
Until the world is done.
Then, still you will be holding
this man that is your son.
Mary, you write with honesty and kindness, you invite people to know you! You will never know how grateful I am to know you!
I just read all of Mary's poems, and then read them again. Yep, they're still awesome.
Mary-I have been reading your work as well and think you have such a great way with words. There is a lot of stuff out there parading as poetry that I haven't much praise for but your work is different. Your poetry is refreshingly unique and very well-written. You are a true poet!
Mothers that abuse are seriously mentally ill. They do love them, but are Unable to show it, and can only abuse. They Secretly Hate themselves for it. It's Hard to stop Hating them for it, but Try to feel Sorry for them. And it is Very Hard Hard won knowledge, Chris Chrispants22gmail
Hello! I’m from Michigan. My nationality is 50% Polish and 50% a mix of English/Irish/French! I hope you’ve found a poem or two that you’ve enjoyed! Thank you for reading my poetry!
In lieu of commenting on every single one of your poems, I will just say it here: Mary, you are the unofficial documentor of everyday life's beauties here on PH, and I must say I've seen your work progress from sweet to downright excellent. Your comments on poems and the Forum add so much to the group; we are lucky to have you here! Sincerely, Lori
Mary's works show an amazing intelligence in operation. Her ability to transcend the mundane (such as peeling eggs) and present the reader with something that potrays the untypical, is truely awesome. Mary came to this site with passable pieces, that maintained a skilled method. She quickly rummaged through other writer and saw that there was no need for conservatism and now writes some of the best free verse around. Her humility (especially on the Forum) is only matched by the respect that she has gained from her colleagues on PoemHunter.