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This is my blog (now there is a surprise!). I will be sticking in it poetry, prose, random musings, things that take my fancy and more than likely lots of pictures of cats. I hope you find something to amuse and/or interest you here.

Wednesday 13 April 2011

One Shot, Two Targets.


 Shared for Oneshot Wednesday, though I have cheated and put in two as I couldn't ignore the second one.

Going through some old paperwork, I dug out some writing  I did some time ago.  I have resisted the urge to edit it and left it as it was.

Mother Earth

I know why we call her Mother Earth,
we treat her with the lack of worth
of children who don’t see the strain,
the worry or the constant pain
that’s present in their mother’s eyes
when faced with their demanding cries
for toys and treats beyond her means,
repaying love with tantrum scenes.

Children who, with children’s greed,
see a want to be a need
and money from their parents steal,
not seeing future fears as real.
Happy to have contentment now,
never worrying about how
mother pays for the clothes they wear
or feeds them when her purse is bare.

Then, moving into teenage years,
mock a mother’s loving fears,
destroying things they don’t want now
never caring when or how
replacements will come into being
when, in time, a need their seeing
for mother will provide at need,
 her duty in the teenage creed.

Mothers are old, and the old, you see,
don’t feel like the teenage you and me,
they are not human, they don’t feel pain
or understand the teenage brain.
Mother’s rule of taking and giving
ruins what makes teenage life worth living.
Mother has no wants and needs no care
For mother is mother, and will always be there.

And if we eventually outgrow
our mother’s home and off we go
to new homes circling the stars above,
will we remember our mother’s love?
Will we remember the care she gave?
Visit, reclothe her, her dignity save?
Or leave her circling until the sun’s end
stripped bare as the moon, her barren friend?



and this one, the title speaks for itself.

September 11th 2001.

We didn’t set out to be martyred,
we didn’t think we would die.
So, when you think of us and remember,
don’t be ashamed to cry.
None of us could have expected
the fate that we would share,
we went in fear, pain, acceptance,
terror and in prayer.

We were not killed for our faith
or our nationality,
because we worked for oppression
or served in the military
but because some people, in arrogance,
deny our idea of ‘Free’,
using religion to mask their intolerance,
faith, their rigidity.

So don’t assume your way is right,
standing hard and fast in pride,
the result of this kind of thinking
is why we thousands died.
As a tree, to withstand the raging wind,
roots across a wide range,
freedom must also have a broad base
to withstand the winds of change.

Turning away, remember those
who survive but suffer still,
those left frightened or lonely,
injured, maimed or ill.
Our suffering is over and gone,
ceasing at our life’s end,
but remember each of us was also
parent, child, partner or friend.



7 comments:

  1. the first is wonderful but the second one is the one that will be ringing in my ears the rest of the day..i was in the air that day...

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  2. This line is so spot...."See a want to be a need"...fantastic.

    The second one...I was home alone...no words to express how I felt...Poignant piece....ღ

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  3. Wow. Both are very powerful. I'm sick over how we continue to mistreat Mother Earth despite knowing what we know. And 9/11 -- the truths and lies continue to unfold.

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  4. Both pieces are powerful and express a deep sense of identity.

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  5. thanks for visiting and for your kind comments folks.

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  6. beautiful powerful pieces both, and would linger on!

    My One Shot Wednesday

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  7. poignant, the voice of humanity's womb :)
    http://lynnaima.wordpress.com/2011/04/14/in-remission/

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