Have you ever read a spill that made you make a strong breath, while your hand moved directly to your heart? Here are four ponds that made me do exactly that …
What children say
By Kate Baer
I can’t reach my cup, my water bottle,
The sandwich on the shelf. I can’t do
he. I did it. I would never do it
In a million years. You need to help
me. Help me faster. Do it like
I asked you. I don’t like pizza or
Watermelon. I don’t like anything
I liked it before. I don’t want it. Yeah
I don’t need it. I will never move
This floor. Don’t help me. No
Hug me. Don’t sit next to me
bed. I’m not sleeping. I’m not tired.
I am too scared to fall asleep. You must
Hug me. You must rock me. No
Leave me alone. I am thirsty. AM
Hungry. I’m too tired to put my toys
Far. Don’t get angry. Do not start
Singing. Where is the butterfly that I drew?
I’m still hungry. I’m still playing. Willpower
Can you leave me? Will you stay?
The cord
By Billy Collins
The other day I was slowly bouncing
out of the blue walls of this room,
Moving like under the water of the piano typewriter,
From shelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
When I found myself in section l of the dictionary
Where my eyes fell on the word cord.
There are no cookies nibbled by a French novelist
I could send one to the past more suddenly
To the adjustments where I sat on a work bank in a camp
For a deep adirondack lake
Learn to braid long thin plastic comics
In a cord, a gift for my mother.
I never had anyone to use a cord
Or use one, if that is what you did with them,
But that did not prevent me from crossing
Beach on the beach again and again
Until I made a square
Red and white box for my mother.
She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
And I give him a cord.
She took care of me in many sick rooms,
Spoons or medicine raised to my lips,
He put the cold -faced stalls on my forehead,
And then it brought me to light aerated
And he taught me to walk and swim,
And I, in turn, introduced him a cord.
There are thousands of meals here, he said,
And here there are clothes and a good education.
And here is your cord, I replied,
I did a little help from a counselor.
Here is a breathing body and a heartbeat,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
And two clear eyes to read the world, he whispered,
And here, I said, it is the cord I made in the camp.
And here, I want to tell you now
It is a narrower gift, not the truth used
That you can never pay your mother,
But the unfortunate admission that when she tok
The two -sharing cord of my hand
Was as soon as a child could be
That this uses, it is worth it,
Bordom would be enough to make us.
The Committee weighs
By Andrea Cohen
I tell my mother
I won the Nobel Prize.
Again? She says. Which
Discipline this time?
It’s a small game
We play: pretend
I am someone, she
It pretends that it is not dead.
Mother, a crib to hug me
By Maya Angelou
It’s true
I was created in you.
It is also true
That you were created for me.
It has your voice.
He was formed and tuned to calm me.
Your arms were ñados
In a crib to hug me, to rock me.
The aroma of your body was air
Perfume to breathe.
Mother,
Duration those early and beloved days
I didn’t dream that you had
A great life that included me
Because I had a life
You were only you.
Time passed constantly and disarmed us.
He was not willing.
I feared if it let you go
You would leave me forever.
Smiled for my fears, saying
I couldn’t stay in your lap forever.
That one day you would have to stop
And where would it be?
You smiled again.
I did not.
Without prior notice you left me
But you returned immediately.
You left again and you came back
I admit, quickly,
But relief did not rest easily.
You left again, but you came back again.
You left again, but you came back again.
Every time you entered my world again
You brought security.
I slowly gained confidence.
You thought you knew me
But I met you
You thought you were looking at me
But it keeps you safely in my sight,
Recording every moment,
Memorizing your smiles, tracking your tight.
In your absence
I rehearsed
The way you had to sing
With breeze
While a sob lay
At the root of your song.
The way you posed your head
So that the light can caress your face
When you put your fingers in my hand
And your hand on my arm
I was blessed with a sense of health
Or strength and very good fortune.
You always went
The heart of happiness for me,
Bringing nougats or joy,
Sweets or open laughs.
I even loved you to the duration of the years
When you didn’t know anything
And I knew everything, I still loved you.
Concedeously, of course,
Of my high hanger
Or adolescent wisdom.
I spoke sharply about you, often
Because you were slow to understand.
I aged and
I was stunned to find
How much knowledge you had obtained.
And so fast.
Mother, I have learned enough now
Know that I have not learned almost anything.
On this day
When mothers are being honored,
Leave me thanks
That my selfishness, ignorance and mockery
Did not bring you
Draw me like a broken doll
That had his favor.
I thank you for
You still find something in me
Appreciate, admire and love.
I thank you, mother.
I love you.
What parenting ponds, or other ponds, loves? I feel so full of emotion after reading the thesis; I have to make hard drinks! In addition, if interested, the poetry of the book is not a luxury that arrived this weekend, curated by the anonymous person behind the Instagram account of the same name. XO
PD: My Mother Hood Mantra, and how romantic is this poem?
(Photos, Top, Koganami Studio, Dream Lover, Felix Chacon, J.anthony; throughout Stocksy).