My Mother

A poem for my darling mother who loves me in unimaginable ways and whom I strangely resemble. For Mother dearest, I love you so dearly.


My Mother

My Mother grew me up

My Mother grew me up, from when I was just a scrubby thing and a very very tiny human being

And taught me to tie my skirts and courtesy, and be kind

And look people in the eye

And fill the entirety of the space I occupy


My Mother is a god and she is damned determined and resolute

And irrepressible and spirited

My Mother taught me to hold my head high

And to here and there give new things a try


My mother Loves me and hates things about me

My mother loves me and though she doesn’t get the piercings and the no preservatives,

She thinks it’s alright

Mother walks this earth like a giant, who though she has become

Is still loving and kind and never quite walks by injustice

without acting out the conjurings of her heart and soul and mind


My Mother is funny and serious

And now older and endearing and fierce

But she still makes me polish the tiles thrice

Mother roams the world a thousand over in all the ideologies and daily lives of the people she taught

She raised them all up

And loved and Englished and scienced them up


My Mother is brilliant and improbable and kind and in many a way

The person I hope to be someday!


** Despite it’s proximity to Mothers Day, this is a performed (Open mic) poem I wrote for My Mother after a conversation with her earlier this week.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s