A series of haiku poems inspired by the wonderful nurturing, supportive mothers in my life - thank you for *planting the forest* :

I am a splinter 

What I need is a forest 

Mother the Mother 

****************

Tender and swollen 

Every inch of my being

Mother the Mother 

****************

Sitting in silence 

Musing, panicking, drowning 

Mother the Mother 

***...

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I wish I had permission to- a poem.about motherhood

1I wish I had permission to, 

Make a cuppa, make a brew.

Have a shower, wash my hair.

Shave my legs, have time to care!

I wish I had permission to....

But as it stands, I'm holding you.

I wish I had permission to,

Put my face on, look anew.

Pluck my eyebrows, and my chin!

Like my body, let go of THIN.

I wish...

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A mother’s heart, In pieces,

All hope gone.

Quietly she sits, Reminiscing On the day it all went wrong.

Heart-crushing words,

Unthinkable—

Her whole world torn apart,

As the doctor said,

Apologetic, “We can’t hear the heart.”

Completely numb,

Bewildered,

She sits with a blank stare,

In total denial, Refusing To face her deepest fear

She cried out loud,

Unyiel...

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Someone had to show me the way,

though much of the time I just followed mine

so you watched from the distance, I know.

But it’s clear to me now, wish I’d seen it somehow

and done more to make sure that you know -

your example means more than the whole world to me,

for you stood your whole life for what’s true.

Yeah, somebody had to show me the way…

Mom, I’m grateful th...

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The primrose with its glowing face held high

Brings promise of the softer days of Spring

And gazes up towards the wind ripped sky

Through branches to the sunlight, filtering

New leaves unfold beneath the solemn frost

Where clasped they lie and frozen to the earth

A voice like yours is permanent, not lost

The primrose glows to celebrate your birth

And now each year it brings...

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When I take a profound sleep

Unable to measure so calm and deep,

Will you not forget me, O mother?

Will you keep loving me then like a shower?

When the sun paints the sky orange

And the patch of clouds sailing savage,

Will you remember, O mother tell me?

I will be taking then honey being a bee,

Like a flower bud with nectar compiled

I hope you won't deny me as ...

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its hard to measure a single beating heart 
to measure its clawing judgement. 
to measure the mothers beating blood while she’s
wrenching, retching and writhing. 
its hard to measure disgust, 
difficult to seethe while corps-less hearts beat inside you. 
its easy to declare a hidden hate, 
easy to let it wage a war on a world you don’t understand. 
its hard to watch, fallen sisters. 
its ...

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You are a woman,

beautiful,

      black,

   God’s masterpiece,

    created with

    majestic power

       and divinity—

   The type of woman

   who could never

          be tamed

                           or possessed.

   One deserving of

 love, respect,

and civility.

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Na jaana maine wo ehsaas jab tak na aya tha tu
Na jaani maine wo khushi jab tak na paayi thi teri rooh

Kuch pal the dard ke lekin sehne me tha ek sukoon
Tere aane ke ehsaas ne badhai tujhse roobaroo hone ki justjoo
Aane se tere aai mujhme ek nayi zindagi
Kya khwaab hai ye ya sach me tu hai is rooh me kahin
Hazaaro darr hai is dil me or sawaal bhi
Magar maloom hai mujhe bas hai jawaab har ...

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I miss the way you make brews too weak,
Served up with endless biscuits,
I miss the way the room goes quiet,
When we howl with childish laughter,

I miss stealing words,
Between cries of our children,
Time standing still,
As we ramble through weeks again,
I miss lifting each other up,
Plotting schemes for the future,

'Thank goodness for videocalling'
I say it, it's true,
But oh, how...

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Reflections on single-parenthood. 

Last Day at School 

And you are off,

Floating through our front door,

Awash with make-up,

Dripping with love,

Much taller now,

Towering above me

A figure of strength,

 Last day at school

Where are you now?

When you are not with me,

No need for cuddles,

No clinging to my leg,

You won’t remember,

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small curls so soft

fall in your eyes

sleepiest gaze

wide by surprise

tiny fingers

stretch out to me

short pudgy legs

kick aimlessly

the world is yours

grin-slobber line

should your heart break 

I’ll give you mine 

© Candice Reineke 2021

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you cannot shut the whole world off as
and when you please.
i was fifteen
my mother, forty-five, fighting
an incessant war with my headphones.
fewer words,
our days were outlined more with
slammed doors and dour glares,
conversations prisoned behind the fear
of exposing the soft-
ness in the way our hearts beat
or pumped blood
or ruptured
to spill over that   much    love. our hands
...

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My wings are brown, not black and shiny.
I'm always peeping out through leaves.
I try and keep above the fear trilling below,
I know they are ingesting bitter roots.
And yet I swallow their song all the same.
The empty smoke of hope that arises,
as I am the Blackbird mother sitting,
gathering material and protecting you,
refined in pointless expectation.
I am a gust of failure that ruins,
...

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The day I met you

My soul awoke;

a sound of crying so joyous I could cry myself
The thought of opening my eyes

without the sound this little life I created would be just as scary as it was

when she had opened hers in the first

moments of life 
She lit up my night sky
She came to me with golden hair
The color people would dye to have
For her, I'd die a million times to have al...

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Sometimes it bugs me

to have to chain up my chest

to keep it under control

And a few days each month

I’m afraid to stand up

for fear of disaster below

The price to pay for having a way

to make two little humans

and call them my own

One of whom

will make the same complaints

once she is fully grown.

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Lying here comforting my daughter of 9 months beside me, it suddenly occured to me that when she was born I was going to write more, start to share my work, use my time out of work to explore my poetry writing too. You know, all the usual gubbins, before the actual reality of having a newborn who doesn't sleep, has painful reflux and an older, teenage sister or whichever equivalents consume you.

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My mom lives in my heart

Of my world she is a special part

Lots of care and unlimited love

Shes an angel from heaven above

She gives me food and drops me to school

In my life she sets all the rules

Even she scold and yells at me

In her eyes love is what i See

Sometimes i may cause you pain

But i know your darling I will remain

You will always be in my heart

Even th...

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Being a mother can be very tough
There are days when I feel all gruff
Every time I feel like that I wish I know
I simply need to relax & go with the flow
Every time my kids make utter mess 
I wish I know there are many who suffer from being childless
Every time I see my dreams being fulfilled in their future
I wish I know my job is not to control but to nurture
I wish I remember that they ...

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Breakfast, dinner, tea-

different food, same dishes;

new water, same sink.

Each day, fresh treasure

Organic, homegrown, straight from

the cat litter tray.

You will never peel

the same potato again.

Alas, more will come.

The sole purpose for

anyone’s toaster’s crumb tray

is to upset them.

Once wine filled this glass,

fairy liquid and r...

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I have a large knife in my hand
and I’m not afraid
to skin this mother
to sliver away at the
stiff upper lip of a
toughened epidermis
banish wrinkles, dents and prickly bits
and behold it
cleansed, stripped, unveiled
If you ask me again
I will plainly chop
the thing in two
while I wonder what I could be

This repast, the fourth of the day
mentally diarised between
broken blinds and...

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They call me your mini me

Strangers mistake us for sisters

Old friends sometimes call me by your name

I have always called you mommy

Except that one year back when youth and innocence clung to my small frame and I decided calling you mom sounded more grown up

 Alas,

 I always forgot when I heard the key turn in the lock and you came home from work

I would run into your ar...

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Composed At Braunau (April 20th 1889)

Earth has not anything to show more fair,

all bloodied here beneath the twisted cross,

than this, my child, my angel of Braunau.

I take him in my arms and simply stare

upon this changeling left within my care.

His birth, today, is surely heaven’s loss

and touches all my greys with rainbow gloss.

The world lies sleeping,...

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In times of trouble,

they need me.

In times of peace,

they can't stand me.

In times of trouble,

they say, "I love

you Mom."

In times of peace,

they would rather die

than admit this.

In times of trouble,

they come to me

for advice.

In times of peace

th...

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