This poem is inspred by the Silvia Plath poem "Daddy" posted below. I hope I found my own voice here.

Oh Mother

Oh mother it seems as if
I’ve invented you-
Your birth from my womb
Your shapes smooth around the edges,
Hard in the center
Now growing hard through and through

Till you touch me-
The very edge of me porous
As lava stone, shaking like
Autumn leaves ready for a fall
Into a dark pool-
The pool into which all my
Unsaid words have gone

And with them the very heart of me
A string of mees, my brave ones
All lost now
For so many years
Each have followed the other
Over the cliff of forgetfulness

They can not be retrieved
And I am tired of feeding them
But I am not ready to believe
That the next time we talk
I’ll know you
Or that you, oh mother,
Will know me

Daddy
By Silvia Plath (c. 1962)

You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time—
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Gastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene

An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Beslen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Tarot pack and my tarot pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You—

Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I’m finally through.
The black telephone’s off at the root,
The voices just can’t worm through.

If I’ve killed one man I’ve killed two—
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you wan to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.

There’s a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.

Nanzar, I found your poem very interesting... talk about a touch-y subject -- parents. I really liked it and I think you did indeed find your own voice through it -- it didn't sound like Sylvia's poem -- it seemed to have a separate voice to me. Sylvia sure had a kicker of a last line, didn't she? Great poem though -- both of them.

I wasn't sure if you meant this to be a "challenge" for all of us (and it certainly IS a challenge to write about your parents). If so, I wrote up a little diddy here about my mom...just 'cause my relationship has changed with her in recent months, and I wanted to share about that 'cause it's nice.

~Gabber
=========


“Mother/Daughter Renewed”

I see the change
In the way your eyes watch me
I see you breaking through
You no longer behold me
As a girl who’s gone astray
A woman who demands her way
These views have left your heart
And I see what I’ve wished for all along
Not a moment too late

I run to you now
When I need someone to listen
Because I know you only want me to be happy
And you see what makes me happy
Accepting with loving arms and an open heart
It’s almost too good to be true
But I see now God has used my pain
And the way my love and determination haven’t died
To show you the truth

You laugh now when you think
Of all the times you stood against and were angry
Because you finally realize I’m not the angel
And you speak of how much you really like the one now
It’s ironic – it took me losing to win
My mother back into my life

Now I share unabashedly
You know about my every last plan
And you help me willingly
You may be afraid but you still do
Showing your love for me through and through
This is the way it was supposed to be
Just a few years ago
I guess miracles can happen afterall.

--11/8/04 Copyright Keri S. (Gabber)

Gabber,

You poem reminds me of a time I shared with my mother. She gave me a hard time over my first marriage, and I thought we would never again be close. It took a while but it did get better. Now I’m aware of a deeper connection that seems to be missing with her and I don’t know if I’ll ever get that. (Thus, the reason for the poem above)

I’m glad to hear that you have returned to a trusting place with your mom. I guess it’s something that has to be worked at. Thank you for contributing a more positive message. As a “challenge” I wasn’t sure it would go over that well because it was a bit vague, but then again I figured everyone has some kind of experience with parents!

Nanzar,

I know that feeling. I thought the same exact thing for the longest time...wondered if I'd ever be as close to my mom as I once was. But yet, I didn't want to be as close as I used to be either -- it's a fine balance, being close but not so close that you don't grow up, y'know what I mean? I think I've finally found that balance with her, and it's nice.

*laughs* You know what's funny? The fact that for years, all I had were angst-y poems about my mom. Or my parents. I recall one in particular I wrote about my mom called "Different." It was a hard time. But I must say it is relieving to be able to see how much we've grown, and how our relationship is all I longed for it to be the last few years. Like I said, not a moment too late. I don't have any complaints about our relationship anymore. It's really nice to have that balance.

Hopefully one day you will experience that deeper connection with your own mother. It's hard sometimes, but I think it takes a meeting of hearts...and meeting each other halfway in understanding where the other is coming from. All any one person wants in this world is to be understood.

Thanks for the reply, I'm glad I could contribute to the challenge. It just felt right 'cause I had something new to contribute instead of my normal angst where that's concerned.

~Gabber

Gabber,
I'm happy to see your relationship with your mother is improving. That's wonderful.

Nanzar,
I'm sorry you aren't as close to your mother as you'd like to be and that poem by Sylvia Plath was just downright disturbing. I hope to write something just as disturbing someday...LOL
The husband of yours that I met, is he your second?

Here's my take on the parenting challenge...

First, I dedicate this one to my ex mother-in-law, whom I've never met...

I've never seen your face,
In person,
But I've seen it in pictures,
And although you are,
Attractive,
On the outside,
You are the ugliest thing,
I've ever seen,
On the inside,
My children ask about you,
You'll never know who they are,
They'll never suffer the fate,
Of meeting you,
You'll never know the joy,
Of being Nana,
You are cold, ugly and twisted,
How dare you call yourself,
A mother?
Is it truly your fault?
Were you born without the ability,
To feel? To love?
How could you take,
Your own child,
And turn him into,
Such a twisted monster,
Like you?
When he was born,
I'm sure his heart was pure,
But you twisted it,
You twisted so many knives,
In his heart,
And you laughed,
You took the heart,
And soul,
Of an innocent boy,
And turned them both black,
I will never forgive you,
And my children,
Will never know,
Who you truly are,
And your grandchildren,
Will never know the joy,
Of having a decent father,
Thanks to you.

~11/16/04 Copyright Jen M. (li'l tiki)

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Shinigami,

On a lighter note...for my Mom.

From when I was a child,
Til my twenties,
I resented you,
I harbored hatred deep in my heart,
For the things you've done,
And haven't done,
And for some hurtful things you've said,
But then, when I felt,
The world had turned against me,
You were there,
Helping me regain,
My dignity and sanity again,
I never forgot that,
But I never truly respected,
Or forgave you,
Until I became a parent myself,
My perspective totally shifted,
I've stopped blaming,
And I've stopped hating,
And as each day goes by,
I totally understand,
How hard it was,
To raise me,
With all of the ugly things,
I've said and done,
I still hurt,
Because as a mother myself,
I cannot fathom,
The hell I've put you through,
And I'm sorry,
I realize that,
You've done a damn good job,
I know I still have issues,
And nobody is perfect,
But because of you,
I've learned to believe,
In myself and to love myself,
And to love others,
And I give thanks,
And I want you to know,
That I love you.

~11/16/04 Copyright Jen M. (li'l tiki)

Hi Tiki
I was deeply affected by your poem about your x-Mother in-law. That was really a soul-searching haunting poem. It stuck with me for a long time. It was interesting that you were able to show that you knew very much about a woman that you never met, just based on her son's actions.

And then-- such a loving forgiving tribute to your own mother. It was refreshing to hear that time changed your perspective, and gave you the ability to love.

{{{{keri}}}}
that is a beautiful poem to your mother. It's a lovely place, to let go of the pain and forgive.
Nanzar really powerful poem. Very intensely written. I hope you and your mother get closer in time, i am sure you will.
And sylvia? Awesome truly awesome.

{{{{{JEN}}}}}
i have to say i shed a few tears at both your poems--the one about herb's mother is touching and a big OUCH. I feel your pain there, and the kids' pain. It sucks to grow up without a father who loves you and is there for you. Makes me appreciate my own dad even more. At least he was always there.
The one about your mom of course reminded me of my parents--no matter what they ever did or said to hurt me, when push came to shove--they always came through for me when no one else ever did. Funny, that. Parents come through for you in a way that no one else can.

Maybe one day Herb will wake up and realize the mistake he made. Maybe even before it's too late. I hope so for your kids' sake.

Well at least they have your family. That will never go away! If i lived closer they'd have me on a regular basis too.

TAKE CARE!

Here's a poem to my mother about forgiveness which i'm learning about. My mother has polymayalgia(sp?) and depression, and takes all these pills--her body is flushing out the pills AND the sickness--in cold sweats. Constant cold sweats every other minute. She was also very abused by her family and never healed those hurts or let them go. Still to this day she hates them and i think that hate has turned on her.
I believe that the less we heal and forgive, the more we hold onto hurt and avoid--the more it festers and turns on our bodies, makes us sick, can even kill us. Me, i don't want to be in my 60's and sick with all kinds of ailments cuz i've been so angry all my life, lol. A lot less painful to forgive or at least work towards that!


All the hate
All the anger
All the pain
They did to you

Ate at you
Twisted you
Made you sick
And how you hurt

Don't you know
That they win
When you hate
When you hold

Hard and fast
To their mistakes
Your brothers your parents
Do not let them win

Let them go
Go on and grow
Don't stay sick
With all that hate.

Let it go
Let love flow
Be at peace
And heal at last.


Take care all.

{{{Kate}}},

Because of you, I had to reply. That was one beautiful poem. You really got me right here *points at heart*. Thank you for sharing, I felt the sincerity and beauty in your words. Sometimes, Kate, you just nail it and you did so right then. Beautiful. Don't change a thing.

And it looks like we had similar subjects -- with my poem being about forgiving my mom. It is nice to be able to let go of the past. Occasionally, it's there y'know...no one's perfect. She'll say something that just reeks of the way she used to be, the judgmental tone, you name it...and while inside I get pissed, I let it go because I know it's just a moment and give her a few minutes and she'll bounce back. And it always happens without fail.... But it's nice the way it is now. It really is. I like having my mom be a part of my life again and know how I truly feel about things. And it's something I hadn't spoken about to anyone actually...the change in her. And with Nanzar's topic, it just felt right to finally put my feelings into words. Thank you though, really.

Tiki,

Wow... intense poems, but wonderful. The one about the mother-in-law you never met? Totally felt that one. ... and while the other one isn't as intense, it's still beautiful. *has to laugh* Here your parents tell you all the time, "Just wait till you have a kid, then you'll understand" and we go "yeah yeah yeah"... but you're basically saying okay yeah, you're right. LOL. Which I think is both humorous and real. I like this challenge...it could be a touchy subject, but it's interesting to get a peek into people's relationships with their parents.

And thank you. I'm happy my relationship with my mom is improving too. It's a welcomed change. Shows that even when life is sucking everywhere else, there's still a ray of light to hold onto.

~Gabber

Awww, thanks, {{{Keri!}}}} I always love your feedback, it's so honest, and coming from someone with your talent and skill, it really means a lot to me. Yeah that was really on my mind a lot lately, cuz i was talking to my friend about forgiveness--and i thought of her. I'm going to find a way to bring this up to her without scaring her off lol--it's a touchy subject!
I'm so glad you're at a really good place with your mom--that's important--what i ended up having to do(sounds a bit extreme but it worked) was kind of separate them from my "parents" to these people that they are, these adults i know and i socialize with. When i see them as Just People, not Mom and Dad so much anymore, it is MUCH easier to deal with them.

Anyway take care girl, email me whenever ya want!
love
Kate

Hey, Nanzar!
Thank you. Soul searching and haunting, huh? I like that. I do get analytical sometimes, maybe even overanalytical at times (is that a word?) but I had to pour out what was eating me up on the inside, and poetry has a way of letting me do that. Even though Herb is a creep, it breaks my heart knowing that he wasn't always a creep, possibly a sweet little boy like his son, but his own twisted mother helped form him into the person he is now.

My mom, however, helped form who I am today, and for that, I am forever grateful. She gave me the ability to love, and to strive to become the best person I can be, among many other things.

{{{{{{{{{{{Kate}}}}}}}}}}}

Your poem made me a bit misty eyed as well. I am sorry your Mom had it so rough, and her anger was to the point of making her ill. I hope she'll come around, and let go. I've let go alot of the anger I used to keep inside, and it feels like a great weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and I feel stronger than before. However, I still have anger issues...lol. I've got a long way to go to achieve optimum health here. Anyhoo, my Mom was abused by her family as well, and had anger issues as well, but as she got older, she learned to let go of it and she has mellowed out alot in the past year or so, and she's still growing and still learning. You never stop doing that. She seems more beautiful to me than ever. Have you ever tried talking to your Mom? You are a very spiritual and wise person, and I think you have what it takes to help her come around.

Gabber,
Thank you. When I wrote the poem about my Mom, I thought about the "wait til you have a kid" thing...LOL. It was exactly what I was thinking of, actually, even before I went and put it into words. As a Mom, it's too easy to forgive my Mom for her actions and words, especially when my kids drive me to the point where I am ready to turn them into an ink splatter...LOL

{{{{{{JEN}}}}}}}}}
Thanks hon! Yeah letting go, that's a tough one, and yeah sometimes i still have trouble too--from one person with anger issues to another lol, it's a constant challenge. I'm actually gonna find a way to bring this up to my mom--I have to do it as casually as possible without scaring her off--she usually scoffs at anything spiritual unfortunately--so i have to do it from a different perspective--it comes from her catholic upbringing and being smacked and humiliated by the nuns. Bleh. Well anyway, the biggest challenge in life is to take what we learn and pass it on to our children or whoever we meet--your mom sounds like she really took what she learned and did something positive with it. Look at how she's always there for you now! Even after being abused by her folks. And you're doing the same thing with your kids.
Anywho--take it easy girl, email or call me anytime!
love ya
kate

This man, and this woman.

i wish i had been there,
and life is full
of unmet wishes and regrets,
but these will spring to fruition
with every answer you give

Who's the man in that picture
you're father
What are you both smiling about
You, we just found out about you

And they were happy
in ways i had never seen
with my own eyes

She stood there
Body firm and hair bouyant
Being chased by boys
standing right outside of frame
they couldn't have her
but he could

He stood young and firm
arm lovingly around her waste
admiration in his eyes
pride in his heart
a growing future between them
sucess outnumbered failures then

and somehow youth aged
somehow regret grew like an unkept garden
somehow they lost their visions
and somehow they became those strangers in a picture
two people i could barely recognize

mom, i wish i could have been there
when you still believed in love
and dad, i wish i could have been there
when you still believed in family
i wish i could have met these strangers
before the yellow tint set in to this 3 by 3.

Hey mons...{{{hugs}}}
Had to say your poem really touched me. I remember old pics of my parents too. Beautiful pictures of my mother. She never saw how beautfiful she was. my father did but it was not enough. He never saw his own beauty either. He used to look like Paul Newman. but more than that they were young and fresh.
They're over a lot of stuff now i think but it was a harsh bumpy road. Poems like yours inspire me not to let thte spark go out of MY marriage...kids or no kids.
thanks.

mons-
Wow, it took a while but, wow. This is fantastic! So much is said here. About you, about them, about time, about hope, and even love. The love that didn't stay; it's as much a part of our experiences as the love that stays ...longer anyway (nothing is permanent).

You have a way of remaining innocent while telling big important truths. Thanks for contributing. This has turned into a very nice challenge.

-Thanks everyone.

thanks for reading ladies, and postin a bit of a comment! I especially love that bit about innocence and truths. i mean, that's how i describe myself from time to time, an odd combination of knowledge and naivete!

but really, that's what really freaks me out the most about the past, how different it is, we are. and how you can capture all that in a picture. and there i am, 26 holding a picture of my mom at 26. was she as afraid? as lost? as excited? i don't know. good subject--parents. thanks for the topic, i really enjoyed it. i don't often sit down and just write a poem and throw it up for others to read without proofreading, but when i do - it feels whole and pure. thanks.

good stuff up there from everyone else too! says a lot about personalities and maturity! you know, it takes an adult to realize their parents for the children to someone they truly are. for the the people they are that just happened to make a few mistakes. like i said, thanks for the inspirational topic!

mons