Mother to Son

Related poetry:

1. Cotton Song Come, brother, come. Lets lift it; Come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul, Bodies like to roll the soul, Cant blame God if we dont roll, Come, brother, roll, roll! Cotton bales are the fleecy way, Weary sinner’s bare feet […]...
2. Someone's Mother Someone’s Mother trails the street Wrapt in rotted rags; Broken slippers on her feet Drearily she drags; Drifting in the bitter night, Gnawing gutter bread, With a face of tallow white, Listless as the dead. Someone’s Mother in the dim Of the grey church wall Hears within a Christmas hymn, One she can recall From […]...
3. Dream Song 34: My mother has your shotgun. One man, wide My mother has your shotgun. One man, wide In the mind, and tendoned like a grizzly, pried To his trigger-digit, pal. He should not have done that, but, I guess, He didn’t feel the best, Sister, —felt less And more about less than us. . . ? Now—tell me, my love, if you recall The […]...
4. Whats The Use Of A Title? They dont make it The beautiful die in flame – Sucide pills, rat poison, rope what – Ever… They rip their arms off, Throw themselves out of windows, They pull their eyes out of the sockets, Reject love Reject hate Reject, reject. They do’nt make it The beautiful can’t endure, They are butterflies They are […]...
5. Almost Beyond Endurance I ain’t a-goin’ to cry no more, no more! I’m got ear-ache, an’ Ma can’t make It quit a-tall; An’ Carlo bite my rubber-ball An’ puncture it; an’ Sis she take An’ poke’ my knife down through the stable-floor An’ loozed it – blame it all! But I ain’t goin’ to cry no more, no […]...
6. All Night All night the knot in the shoelace Waits for its liberation, And the match on the table packs its head With anticipation of light. The faucet sweats out a bead of water, Which gathers strength for the free fall, While the lettuce in the refrigerator Succumbs to its brown killer. And in the novel I […]...
7. Troopin&#039 Troopin’, troopin’, troopin’ to the sea: ‘Ere’s September come again the six-year men are free. O leave the dead be’ind us, for they cannot come away To where the ship’s a-coalin’ up that takes us ‘ome to-day. We’re goin’ ‘ome, we’re goin’ ‘ome, Our ship is at the shore, An’ you must pack your ‘aversack, […]...
8. Chiarascuro: Rose He Fill your bowl with roses: the bowl, too, have of crystal. Sit at the western window. Take the sun Between your hands like a ball of flaming crystal, Poise it to let it fall, but hold it still, And meditate on the beauty of your existence; The beauty of this, that you exist at […]...
9. Picnic-time It’s June ag’in, an’ in my soul I feel the fillin’ joy That’s sure to come this time o’ year to every little boy; For, every June, the Sunday-schools at picnics may be seen, Where “fields beyont the swellin’ floods stand dressed in livin’ green”; Where little girls are skeered to death with spiders, bugs, […]...
10. Jones's Porvate Argyment That air same Jones, which lived in Jones, He had this pint about him: He’d swear with a hundred sighs and groans, That farmers MUST stop gittin’ loans, And git along without ’em: That bankers, warehousemen, and sich Was fatt’nin’ on the planter, And Tennessy was rotten-rich A-raisin’ meat and corn, all which Draw’d money […]...
11. Dream Song 11: His mother goes. The mother comes & goes His mother goes. The mother comes & goes. Chen Lung’s too came, came and crampt & then That dragoner’s mother was gone. It seem we don’t have no good bed to lie on, Forever. While he drawing his first breath, While skinning his knees, While he was so beastly with love for Charlotte Coquet He […]...
12. Sonnet for Mother Decked in blooms, Swaddled in gold filigreed shrouds, Smeared with perfumes, She traveled into the clouds. A life of love lived, A life of more giving than taking, Living a life of tears shed, Turnings, and missed crossings. She lies still beside father, In an earthen grave dug for her, On ere visits she knew […]...
13. About My Poetry I have no silver-saddled horse to ride, No inheritance to live on, Neither riches no real-estate A pot of honey is all I own. A pot of honey red as fire! My honey is my everything. I guard My riches and my real-estate my honey pot, I mean From pests of every species, Brother, just […]...
14. A Negro Love Song Seen my lady home las’ night, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hel’ huh han’ an’ sque’z it tight, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd huh sigh a little sigh, Seen a light gleam f’om huh eye, An’ a smile go flittin’ by Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd de win’ blow thoo de pine, Jump […]...
15. Going Home I’m goin’ ‘ome to Blighty ain’t I glad to ‘ave the chance! I’m loaded up wiv fightin’, and I’ve ‘ad my fill o’ France; I’m feelin’ so excited-like, I want to sing and dance, For I’m goin’ ‘ome to Blighty in the mawnin’. I’m goin’ ‘ome to Blighty: can you wonder as I’m gay? I’ve […]...
16. A Prayer for a Mother's Birthday Lord Jesus, Thou hast known A mother’s love and tender care: And Thou wilt hear, while for my own Mother most dear I make this birthday prayer. Protect her life, I pray, Who gave the gift of life to me; And may she know, from day to day, The deepening glow of Life that comes […]...
17. The Negro Mother Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long dark way That I had to climb, that I had to know In order that the race might live and grow. Look at my face dark as the night Yet shining like the sun with love’s true light. I am the dark […]...
18. The Virgin Mother My little love, my darling, You were a doorway to me; You let me out of the confines Into this strange countrie, Where people are crowded like thistles, Yet are shapely and comely to see. My little love, my dearest Twice have you issued me, Once from your womb, sweet mother, Once from myself, to […]...
19. Le Gout du Néant Morne esprit, autrefois amoureux de la lutte, L’Espoir, dont l’éperon attisait ton ardeur, Ne veut plus t’enfourcher! Couche-toi sans pudeur, Vieux cheval dont le pied à chaque obstacle bute. Résigne-toi, mon coeur; dors ton sommeil de brute. Esprit vaincu, fourbu! Pour toi, vieux maraudeur, L’amour n’a plus de gout, non plus que la dispute; Adieu […]...
20. My Mother Would Be a Falconress My mother would be a falconress, And I, her gay falcon treading her wrist, Would fly to bring back From the blue of the sky to her, bleeding, a prize, Where I dream in my little hood with many bells Jangling when I’d turn my head. My mother would be a falconress, And she sends […]...
21. THE CAPTIVE BEE; OR, THE LITTLE FILCHER As Julia once a-slumb’ring lay, It chanced a bee did fly that way, After a dew, or dew-like shower, To tipple freely in a flower; For some rich flower, he took the lip Of Julia, and began to sip; But when he felt he suck’d from thence Honey, and in the quintessence, He drank so […]...
22. The Jewel Stairs' Grievance The jewelled steps are already quite white with dew, It is so late that the dew soaks my gauze stockings, And I let down the crystal curtain And watch the moon through the clear autumn....
23. The Plough Of Time Night closed my windows and The sky became a crystal house The crystal windows glowed The moon Shown through them Through the whole house of crystal A single star beamed down Its crystal cable And drew a plough through the earth Unearthing bodies clasped together Couples embracing Around the earth They clung together everywhere Emitting […]...
24. Mother Earth Mother of all the high-strung poets and singers departed, Mother of all the grass that weaves over their graves the glory of the field, Mother of all the manifold forms of life, deep-bosomed, patient, impassive, Silent brooder and nurse of lyrical joys and sorrows! Out of thee, yea, surely out of the fertile depth below […]...
25. On Receipt Of My Mother's Picture Oh that those lips had language! Life has pass’d With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine thy own sweet smiles I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me; Voice only fails, else, how distinct they say, “Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!” The meek […]...
26. To My Mother Because I feel that, in the Heavens above, The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of “Mother,” Therefore by that dear name I long have called you- You who are more than mother unto me, And fill my heart of hearts, where Death […]...
27. In Memory Of My Mother I do not think of you lying in the wet clay Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see You walking down a lane among the poplars On your way to the station, or happily Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday You meet me and you say: ‘Don’t forget to see about the cattle ‘ […]...
28. 234. A Mother's Lament for her Son's Death FATE gave the word, the arrow sped, And pierc’d my darling’s heart; And with him all the joys are fled Life can to me impart. By cruel hands the sapling drops, In dust dishonour’d laid; So fell the pride of all my hopes, My age’s future shade. The mother-linnet in the brake Bewails her ravish’d […]...
29. My Mother's Body 1. The dark socket of the year The pit, the cave where the sun lies down And threatens never to rise, When despair descends softly as the snow Covering all paths and choking roads: Then hawkfaced pain seized you Threw you so you fell with a sharp Cry, a knife tearing a bolt of silk. […]...
30. Mother Mind I never made a poem, dear friend I never sat me down, and said, This cunning brain and patient hand Shall fashion something to be read. Men often came to me, and prayed I should indite a fitting verse For fast, or festival, or in Some stately pageant to rehearse. (As if, than Balaam more […]...
31. Monologue of a Mother This is the last of all, this is the last! I must hold my hands, and turn my face to the fire, I must watch my dead days fusing together in dross, Shape after shape, and scene after scene from my past Fusing to one dead mass in the sinking fire Where the ash on […]...
32. My mother was fortune, my father generosity and bounty My mother was fortune, my father generosity and bounty; I Am joy, son of joy, son of joy, son of joy. Behold, the Marquis of Glee has attainted felicity; this city and Plain are filled with soldiers and drums and flags. If I encounter a wolf, he becomes moonfaced Joseph; if I go Down into […]...
33. Mother and Poet I. Dead! One of them shot by the sea in the east, And one of them shot in the west by the sea. Dead! both my boys! When you sit at the feast And are wanting a great song for Italy free, Let none look at me! II. Yet I was a poetess only last […]...
34. Against Idleness and Mischief How doth the little busy Bee Improve each shining Hour, And gather Honey all the day From every opening Flower! How skilfully she builds her Cell! How neat she spreads the Wax! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet Food she makes. In Works of Labour or of Skill I would be […]...
35. My Mother I Reg wished me to go with him to the field, I paused because I did not want to go; But in her quiet way she made me yield Reluctantly, for she was breathing low. Her hand she slowly lifted from her lap And, smiling sadly in the old sweet way, She pointed to the […]...
36. The Mother Of God The threefold terror of love; a fallen flare Through the hollow of an ear; Wings beating about the room; The terror of all terrors that I bore The Heavens in my womb. Had I not found content among the shows Every common woman knows, Chimney corner, garden walk, Or rocky cistern where we tread the […]...
37. Child In Red Sometimes she walks through the village in her little red dress All absorbed in restraining herself, And yet, despite herself, she seems to move According to the rhythm of her life to come. She runs a bit, hesitates, stops, Half-turns around… And, all while dreaming, shakes her head For or against. Then she dances a […]...
38. The Mother Your children grow from you apart, Afar and still afar; And yet it should rejoice your heart To see how glad they are; In school and sport, in work and play, And last, in wedded bliss How others claim with joy to-day The lips you used to kiss. Your children distant will become, And wide […]...
39. To Mother In the old Strauss waltz for the first time We had listened to your quiet call, Since then all the living things are alien And the knocking of the clock consoles. We, like you, are gladly greeting sunsets, And are drunk on nearness of the end. All, with which on better nights we’re wealthy Is […]...
40. The Sad Mother Sleep, sleep, my beloved, Without worry, without fear, Although my soul does not sleep, Although I do not rest. Sleep, sleep, and in the night May your whispers be softer Than a leaf of grass, Or the silken fleece of lambs. May my flesh slumber in you, My worry, my trembling. In you, may my […]...