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Array ( [sid] => 183493 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Loving The Idea Of Love [time] => 2016-09-02 00:46:01 [hometext] => For my mother...she earned this [bodytext] => My wife/'/s box of Kleenex empty but for air,
now fifty scattered clumps of puffy tears;
mine unopened, rested near,
no need for eyes so dry through memory/'/s stare:

My Mother/'/s postcard Christmas begging to be made,
tinseled tree so green, beneath, bright presents lay,
eggnog, pondered, for each coaster placed
/'/round a tree so bright, but like her, that night, a fake.

My wife, sweet and blessed can cry, can feel what movie makers hope,
but for me those endings don/'/t; they/'/re when fantasy and dreams elope;
My mom never loved or felt, failed to slip from her own rope,
but one Christmas I played a role; I became her memory/'/s soap.

Mom loved the thought of Mommy-hood,
strolled perfect streets in her mind where life is good;
the one she threw away, for a moment very real; her children-(child) and fifth husband stood,
propping a scene unearned; I hoped just once she might feel, but her acting showed she never would. [comments] => 5 [counter] => 260 [topic] => 23 [informant] => Invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FamilyPoems )

Loving The Idea Of Love

Contributed by Invierno on Friday, 2nd September 2016 @ 12:46:01 AM in AEST
Topic: FamilyPoems

My wife/'/s box of Kleenex empty but for air,
now fifty scattered clumps of puffy tears;
mine unopened, rested near,
no need for eyes so dry through memory/'/s stare:

My Mother/'/s postcard Christmas begging to be made,
tinseled tree so green, beneath, bright presents lay,
eggnog, pondered, for each coaster placed
/'/round a tree so bright, but like her, that night, a fake.

My wife, sweet and blessed can cry, can feel what movie makers hope,
but for me those endings don/'/t; they/'/re when fantasy and dreams elope;
My mom never loved or felt, failed to slip from her own rope,
but one Christmas I played a role; I became her memory/'/s soap.

Mom loved the thought of Mommy-hood,
strolled perfect streets in her mind where life is good;
the one she threw away, for a moment very real; her children-(child) and fifth husband stood,
propping a scene unearned; I hoped just once she might feel, but her acting showed she never would.

Copyright © Invierno ... [ 2016-09-02 00:46:01]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Loving The Idea Of Love (User Rating: 1 )
by JamesStockdale on Friday, 2nd September 2016 @ 09:51:50 PM AEST
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A very sad poem but so well written.
I deleted my earlier lengthy comments as it/'/s not really my place to opine. I think if I was in that situation I/'/d simply forgive as hard as it is and move on to diminish my pain and anxiety. But that is easier said than done. I wish you the best my friend.

James

Re: Loving The Idea Of Love (User Rating: 1 )
by softerware on Friday, 2nd September 2016 @ 11:25:53 PM AEST
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Our children survive our parenting. Kids don/'/t come with a manual.If they did, we/'/d probably read it and find a way to put them BACK!
The awe of having a helpless life in your trembling hands makes some of us grow up--others freeze in denial and sheer terror.
your words tell the tale from the side of the child who never gives up hope that he will be found worthy.
How fortunate we are that we one day find ourselves and know our worth absent of others blessings.
I like the ending especially, as it closes the book.
And in that, there is hope for all of us.
Thank you for sharing.
softerware

Re: Loving The Idea Of Love (User Rating: 1 )
by ming on Saturday, 3rd September 2016 @ 09:38:47 AM AEST
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Very emotional. Raw, thought-provoking. Get that ick out. Bleed your ink.

ming

Re: Loving The Idea Of Love (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Saturday, 3rd September 2016 @ 10:39:50 PM AEST
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touched, held onto, loved,
taught, tangled with,
This makes me think of a tiny child
remembering before anything else
something better than even the opposite of
bad.

something about animals I thought looking at
a timid grown dog, how it shook, then another happy as catch can. People too, yes ,people too.
And this thing about religion and God, and the mythologies about love.

We are built for love, designed to protect.
Yet, however imperfect we must be
it is true, our love is all we have.

Peace!

Re: Loving The Idea Of Love (User Rating: 1 )
by RussellReinhardt on Sunday, 18th September 2016 @ 06:09:38 AM AEST
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Dearest Mike

I/'/m not here much lately to read and comment, pressure at work is consuming me totally. However when I do get here I can/'/t wait to see what/'/s going on in my brothers and sisters lives. How sad this piece make me feel I fear the pain will kill me, for I do not know anything but a mothers love and I can only imaging or at least try imagine not knowing it, I wish I could just wrap my arms around you my brother, my God be with you and bring forgiveness. ( )

Greetings
Rus

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