After Life

no one really even begins to tell you the truth
or maybe they are but
you just aren’t paying attention

it’s not all roses and sunshine
sustaining and nurturing life
it’s work, sweet but also filled with sorrow

that first look promises everything
truths unfolding eventually
moments can be filled with as much suckness as joy

because that’s life
a bouncing between two extremes
hopefully nestling more towards the middle

there’s sickness and whines
lots of snot and green squirts
a feeling of “will this ever end?”

at times rejoicing at the child’s laughter in new discovery
that first walk, mama and dada hearing their names
and a multitude of things in the positive column

decades of months of patience
doing right by baby, by family and maybe herself
holding it together, for one and all

then along comes the back talk of teenager angst
rebellion, screaming matches, threats of eviction
the tears in a mother’s hearts grow deeper

years of up and down emotions
tears of capitulations and smiles of jubilation
limits tested until just about snapping

then the agonies fade, sweet memories recalled
old pictures remind us of the evolution of the tiny beings
child-rearing becomes just something we all went through together

pages in their story book filled by their imagination
now independent and free from guidance
their journeys beginning to take shape

a look back brings bittersweet tears
but glancing forward forms a smile
a face filled with pride for these men i birthed

Pieces Of Me

all we consist of
resides in our progeny
a creation from two bloodlines
our biology dictating
the continuation of self
a birthing watered down
or a carbon copy ensues
the hair, the eyes
the frame and more
resemblance gives credence
to which clan it belongs

parents, the ones who care
give even more of themselves
sometimes, to the brink of thresholds
from where there is no return
all for the sake of the child
spawn filled to capacity
with the best of who the creators and mentors are
remedying the worst in themselves
while simultaneously cleansing
their seed of poor judgment
every ounce of care given
is preparation
for the next generation
before again passing
the cycle of life torch
some might say ad nauseam

A Sacrificed Life

Untitled
Tote Mutter – Egon Schiele

will you remember
               rocking gently within
               being wrapped up in my womb
               my arms clutching you tenderly

will you know i loved you
               and how i cried for us
               when i couldn’t save myself
               as my death was the only way for you to live

will you grow up
                missing me
                needing me
                happy despite me being gone

will you ache
                to know who i was
                for my loving advice
                on your wedding day

will you choose to
                manage without me
                live a spectacular life
                show my sacrifice was not in vain

will you go on and be
                all that i dreamed of
                a force to be reckoned with
                even without me